Anchorspires are tall and sheer pillars of basalt and obsidian, that protrude from the ocean, and extend high above the Whitesea. Sturdy and immobile, the mighty anchorspire can secure ayrlands from drifting bysswards on the gales. For a time, at least. It will one day fall, as all things must. A people must prepare for this eventuality or suffer the catastrophic consequences of denial. A variety of geologic events can trigger the formation of a new spire. A galeblazer who stumbles on the location of an undiscovered spire could very well hold the key to salvation for thousands of people, and net themselves a handsome finder's fee to boot. To the gahls of the chainlands, an anchorspire's unmistakable silhouette is the symbol of civilization. It is the nexus of the nation-state, the engine of progress, and the beating heart of any empire or ayrmada. It projects the power of permanence, for those who would dare fight to seize and keep it. It promises the hope of a life as humanity was surely meant to experience it: orderly and temperate.