Entwined within the hollow cycle of rebirth is inescapable death.

You are a Mythrilium, doomed to die a hundred deaths and a hundred more, a living catalyst of magick, cast unceremoniously into a world verdantly polluted by the arcane.

After the decimation of our world wrought by the will of an ancient artificial species from far, far away, Earth seethes, gripped in magick, its many species beholden to the arcane's enticing tangles. Countless ages of magick induced strife and the meddling machinations of jailer gods have rendered the history you and I live forgotten, focusing this new world – Laodicea – to a destiny of inescapable degradation born from reliance upon the seeded source of all magick: mythril.

As magick rips reality apart, it is with a constant fear Mythrilium step through life, knowing that any wayward step may very well lead to deep passages, untold wonders, or certain and painful death.

It is your duty as the player to ensure your character's encounters with unrelenting, inescapable struggle are not in vain. To strike out your fear of the monstrous, enshrine your valor and might, and revel in the spoils of victory.

To achieve any form of peace in such a world is to embrace the madness of unending battle, cresting upon the bleak waves of hope. A hope that someday, some when, there will be a glorious end.