Life is hard. So, too, are the chosen.
The streets of Nexus have long been both pit and paradise for those whose only guiding principle is to get what they want, when they want it, by whatever means necessary. The civilities and faces change, but the savagery on the streets never does, and perhaps never will.
The Nighthammer district, indeed, is a testament to this. The smithies roar constantly, spewing the poor man’s breath and Nexus snow across its entirety. Countless artisans and merchants never stop to wonder about the destruction in their creation- whether it is effluents from failed aphrodisiac creation being dumped into its rivers, the innumerable scraps of wood, yarn, and the like that litter the back alleys overflowing from rubbish bins, or the castoffs of tea leaves and week-old milled swamp rice bread. The Nighthammer district is filthy, and when its regular inhabitants are not working themselves, they are in a battle to live free and wild between the refuse and the stars.
It is in this environment the players find themselves initially- brought up in the streets, they have grown strong among the tough, untenable soil of the Nighthammer district. What glories and horrors await them? What will the savage seeds bloom into under the gentle sowing of destiny, and the sweet rain of conflict?