As you walk the dark streets of Bastion it is hard to imagine how big the city itself truly is. It is ten cities high and ten cities in diameter. A man cannot walk from one side to the other in one day. Even many of the long lived elves have never seen every street and every building. It is huge and immense and for parts of the city, there is never a night or day, only eternal darkness lit by the fires of industry and progress.
Bastion holds both wonder and terror within its heart. Some people spend their whole lives within the walls of the city and never see even the black sand of the Island. Others live in the lofty High Caerns, never visiting the dark and dirty parts of the city. Bastion is a place full of people who live their lives and never interact with the world outside of the city. Most barely acknowledge its existence.
Yet there is a world, a world once the province of Men and Elves and Dwarves. A world that they wrecked with their intentions, both good and ill. A world that rejected them and drove them back to the edge of oblivion, where only Bastion remains. A small strip of land on each of the four continent holds a remnant of barbarians and a touch of the civilization that ruled the world at one time. Each strip is guarded by a wall that keeps each side from interacting. Never the less people and beings cross the walls all the time and this is accepted as a means of keeping the peace.
To the north are the giants of the Jutenlaand. A selection of small kingdoms where evil and good giants live in relative harmony. They are ruled by the Eleven Greats, a selection of Kings and Queens from the strongest tribes. Orcs and Ogres serve them and act as their own buffer between the world of Bastion and their own lands.
To the west, the one time allies of the giants sit among their own High Caerns and watch the world. The Dragons forged the alliance with the giants many years ago to fight against the destructiveness of the younger races. Lizard men and Kobalds serve these masters who have reverted to their old rivalries and fight amongst one another. It is not the continuous warfare of the lands to the south and east, but its intensity is fierce.
To the south lie the lands of the damned. Known as the Lands of Dusk, this entire continent is ruled by a cabal of necromancers, both living and undead. Loosely allied in the Gnawed Bone Hegemony, the various necromancers vie for power and try to outdo one another in perverse creations. They fought their own war against the Dragons and Giants as well as the retreating Young Races. No one could dislodge them from the southern lands and so they agreed to the Conclave of Bastion. The last remaining family clan of Halflings, the Romyr or “Rom” are more than a buffer for Bastion. They serve both the city and the lands to the south, acting as traders, spies, and servants. They are a gypsy race now who have developed their own brand of luck and magic.
Finally to the east lay the Demons and their dark allies. Summoned through ancient magics known only to the Wood Elf Queens, the Demons created a secret army to their Nameless God. The Avatar of the Nameless God now resides in the depths of Lake Ash. Driven from their homes by their former slaves the Wood Elves and their Tiefling kin now man the wall against the tide of evil on the other side. While the Demons will abide by the Truce (as they call the Conclave) they make no bones about the fact that one day the war will continue. The Demons have taken Goblin tribes as servants and from these created demonic Hobgoblins.
The world has rested for a thousand years. With the great wars over the land has healed and the peoples of Bastion look once again upon a world that was once theirs. Some wish to reconquer and others seek to make amends. All agree that even as large as Bastion is, there are too many people now on the island. Someone has to go.