In the world of Sunderhelm, there is no singular horizon, no familiar sky above and ground below. There is only a calamitous, beautiful, and broken realm, a world that was not only shattered, but imploded. Life persists, but it is a life amongst the strata. Each stratum, from the verdant, jagged tops to the lightless, mineral-rich depths, is a distinct realm with its own ecology, its own cultures, and its own rules of existence. To the denizens of Sunderhelm, their stratum is their entire world, until it is not.