Climate & Weather

The Fractured Sky

When the Cataclysm shattered Toril into floating fragments, it would have been safe to say the world was done for. But somehow the world’s gravity core is still miraculously intact, and it desperately clings to the broken pieces. Yet the scars remain deep.

The atmosphere is extremely thin and unbalanced. Heat flows chaotically through this broken veil, and the weather varies wildly from region to region. Without intervention, the climate would spiral into uninhabitable extremes.

The weather corporations made it their duty to impose order on chaos. Every regulated zone exists under their careful observation: temperatures held within a narrow band of stability (never below 10°C, never above 25°C). To the inhabitants of the Floating Cities, this is climate control. To those in unregulated regions, it’s a distant privilege.

The Sky Currents

In the gaps between landmasses, the atmosphere becomes violent. Pressure shifts without warning. Temperature differences birth sudden, fierce storms that churn through the void, a phenomenon called Sky Currents.

Every airship captain charts these currents with precision. Transport systems throughout the fractures run on the tides of wind and pressure that few can predict but all must respect. A miscalculation means being swept into dead zones where physics itself seems to fail and death is certain.

The Daylight Cycle

Since the Cataclysm, there are two suns in Toril’s sky. Some fragments bask in merciless double sunlight, where shadows barely exist. Others exist in perpetual shadow, blocked from both suns by landmasses above. In between, there’s a strange, coppery twilight.

Even at midday, faint, elongated forms remain visible in the sky. These are not quite stars, not quite constellations burning in a sickly, fiery red. The moon, Selûne, watches over it all with ancient indifference.

The Rain

The weather corporations schedule rainfall and snowfall with metronomic regularity, just often enough to seem natural.

But twice yearly, something breaks through their control: acid rains. For several days, the clouds purge themselves of industrial poison accumulated in the broken atmosphere. The intensity varies unpredictably. Buildings boarded themselves up before these seasons. Warnings are posted. Timings are public. Yet people still die as what’s left of her, mother nature remains unpredictable.