Couldn't resist tying this in with Mortified. Sorry.
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Theory
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Once upon a time there was a place called Theory. It was what was known in the Ghost Zone as a 'community.' Not cohesive enough to be a Realm, and more than a single shared lair, communities were fairly common.
Theory was a science community, one of the best, though not the oldest. It's first residents had come together with the advent of the scientific method, by the expedient of simply moving the doors of their lairs next to each other. Others had joined them, and together they built things, both inside and outside their lairs. Experiments and displays of proficiency were the order of the day.
But there was something rotten at Theory's core.
Not all scientists were good people, after all, and driven by Obsession, some of the residents of theory cared only for advancing their knowledge. It came to a head in the late forties and fifties, after the wars, and there was a war, and there was a war, and there was a war.
There was a war.
The works of Theory were shattered. The islands crumbled. The towers fell. Those sane and able moved their lairs away, new communities forming around bands of refugees. Only the mad, desperate, or trapped remained, nothing more than lairs and broken stones.
Nothing more, but for one, last crooked tower.