You and other survivors (the players) would be called upon last, the last ones to be shipped off to the first safehaven found. You had made your way to the southernmost city that was once governed by the Empire of Galador. There they had grouped up all the old remaining airships for one last voyage. They were old, though still very sturdy, of the “theurgible” kind. Right now, you are the last people on the continent. The snow has already hit this city hard, the ice won't be far behind.

The call is sent in, people board the airships with haste, most seem like adventurers, but you can spot a few families there, certainly not the way it was supposed to go. At the helm, a mean looking goliath together with the rest of his crew prepares the ship for take-off.

The captain would summon the air elementals. As the “theurgible” starts to float, it shakes. There is a wheezing of air over some holes but the survivors were hopeful again. As it slowly rises, the passengers would feel a chill deep in their bones with their teeth rattling as the frost settles on their skin.

The airship slowly catches speed with the helmsman’s hand stuck to the steering wheel, as even he seems to be struggling with the cold on his hands, though he doesn’t let go of it for a second. The airship picks up altitude and starts to fly with little to no visibility, you hope that the captain knows the way by heart.

Everyone in the airship seems to be battling out the cold in their own way. Some people are unmoving. Time seems eternal on this ship as you make your way through. In the distance, you can see the other airships flying nearby, the last convoy to leave the mainland.

As everyone was mostly asleep huddled up together, they were awakened upon hearing droplets of water pounding on the wooden planks. It only grew stronger with sounds of thunder roaring from afar.

The airships had entered a thunderstorm, with winds so powerful it rocked the airship sideways. A bright flash blinds you, then the deafening sound of thunder, you see one of the nearby airships in flames, nothing but its smoke can be seen as it descends into the clouds below.

The thunderstorm is brutal, there is no mercy for the already tired and unfortunate adventurers. Another flash, followed by the sound of an explosion, then the deafening thunder once again, another airship has been hit.

You pray to the gods that this ship be saved. Reality hits you, the gods can’t help you now, the airship seems to be flying uncontrollably with the helmsman losing his footing on the wheel. His crew struggle to keep the mechanical propellers intact but it is of no use as the wind punches through them, tearing one clean off. You feel the airship descending quickly.

Another flash and the sound of another explosion in the distance.

You hear the loud goliath's voice scream out:
"Hold on! Brace!"
You hold on to the ground, the planks, the railing, the masts, anything.
You hold on, for what seems like an eternity before the ship abruptly hits something solid which sends you flying off.

Welcome to The Haven....