In the Realm of Light stands Brightspear, youngest and most luminous of the great Cities of Sigmar, its towers of white stone drinking in the endless radiance of Hysh until they seem to blaze from within. It was raised upon the bones of an older place, a settlement that had fallen to Chaos in the long Age that came before, and its founders swore its light would cleanse the taint of that ruin forever.
Such oaths are more easily sworn than kept. For all its brilliance, Brightspear is a frontier city, thrust out into contested realmgate-lands where the servants of the Dark Gods still prowl. The old Chaos ruin was never fully purged; its corrupted vaults were merely sealed and built over, and in the deep places beneath the shining streets, something patient still festers in the dark, waiting for the light above to falter.
The city's people live in a strange duality, bathed in glory yet haunted by the knowledge of what lies beneath their feet. The Lumineth of nearby realms regard them with cool disdain, and the aelmentors of Hysh test the newcomers with riddles that maim the unwary mind. Brightspear endures on courage and radiant faith, a bright spearpoint driven into hostile ground, gleaming all the more fiercely for the shadow it can never quite escape.
The atlas continues
