The land has been desolated beyond believe. There is no solace for those outside of these walls. They hunger, they thirst, they scavenge and forage, but to no avail. The walls of Jericho are down, the walls of human society broken by our own foolish promises to ourselves. Babylon the Great has fallen, and in its stead....
We rise. For we cannot help but pick ourselves up to live again. We have come from many walks of life, from many places, hoping and praying to forget. Given enough time, though... we have.
This is Skye Castle, one of the last remaining havens for anything even remotely humanoid. The debris of life on the outside fell away miles ago, and the acres and acres surrounded by a nigh impenetrable (or so we can only hope, and attempt to keep it that way) wall host farmland, cattle, and a home for those who are willing to work to keep it safe.
Why are you here? Were you born into this place? Or are you the rare survivor that comes to tell their tale?
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