A flying city. An elemental chaos threatening to consume it. A handful of mortals, summoned against it.
It was a normal day for you, not particularly strange by any means until the very moment it was. In a flash, you found yourself in a field with other people, each equally confused as you. In the distance you see massive walls of purple energy, impossibly large and beyond them a roaring calamity of elemental energy that is rendered silent by those very walls. You look around, enfeebled by the sheer scale of the chaos beyond those walls, taking in for a moment how massive the area between them must be.
In the distance, you see something floating in the sky. It takes but a moment to recognize it as a city, shining in a perpetual light from above. It too must be of a massive scale.
Slowly, you turn your eyes unto yourself, and notice a blue glyph upon your left hand that was not there before. You rub it, and it does not move; some kind of magical brand, slowly glowing with some power aside from yourself. It is on the hand of everyone appeared with you, perhaps the only uniting factor between you all.
Searching around, you see a road, and hitch a ride with a passing cart to enter the City below the flying island. Welcome to Bel'Mithra.
You've been here perhaps a month, and in that time you've found lodging and a profession to keep yourself funded. Regardless of that however, you've been called to a local tavern to meet with a companion who says they've found valuable information about the glyph on your hands.