Welcome to a Weyr with no skies and to a hold with no lord. The Masters came from Between and they brought with them wonders that Pern had never seen before. In exchange for their treasures they dragged Igen underneath the sands of the desert. But really, what's sunlight in exchange for a bazaar of unworldly treasures and grand secrets? Welcome, friend, to Fallen Igen.
Bellonath of the enforcers has recently laid a clutch of seven on the sands. A call for candidates has gone out and bets on the colors of the dragonets have already begun. Are you brave enough to join the enforcers? Or do you just want to take bets on which candidate will get mauled this time? In less heartwarming news, there has been a recent surge in immigration from the surface. The locals have naturally been complaining bitterly about all the 'topsiders.'
Winter in Igen is strange. It's much too cold for the desert location, prompting much complaining from the locals and encouraging people to bundle themselves away in hats and scarves. It even snows! Well, at least, that's what people call it. Truth be told, the Neath Snow probably isn't actual snow. It isn't cold and it'll give you an awful stomach ache if you eat it.