Avaelia

The world of Avaelia is currently in the Fourth Age of the Pedulum.

The Creation of Avaelia
In the beginning, there was the desolate Phyllaes; She the Night Mother, she the ever gloom; she the black gate and the Realm Queen that with her ten loyal servants ruled a starry waste, not known by any name.

Within her right hand was held her silver pike, within her left was a great stone that anchored the goddess to her realm; for the gods have come to rule from another land, betwixt the Twilight of the realms where they themselves war for the right to the throne.

To each one of these victors is given a Great Silver Weapon, and a stone the likes of which the Night Mother once held in her cold fingers.

The Night Mother’s power was so great that it tried at every moment to escape her clutches and take shape as life in the Realm. Phyllaes however was a selfish ruler, and feared above all else that this life, her children, would eventually grow and turn against her in a struggle for the throne; so hard won in the Realm Betwixt Realms.

So when one of her children did escape, she the Ever Gloom would reach out with her dark fingers and pluck it out of the sky to be swallowed whole.

This age of genocide has no name, as Phyllaes devoured even the echoes of time as they escaped from her lips.



All was despair and darkness before the Silver Spear, Aartis, was thrown from a place beyond the keep of the Night Mother; let loose from the jealous hand of the

bold god Firis in an act to conquer the King of the farthing realm, known as Ordis.

Bound to the arm of Ordis was the mighty shield Versil, whose impregnable armor deflected the Aartis bolt and cast it out of the realm before its edge was used to vanquish the bold Firis for his defiance.

The lost god’s weapon drifted for an eternity through the Void Lands, gaining strength and speed before finding its way finally to the Gates of Phyllaes. The deft edge of the Aartis rippled through the vacant halls of the Night Mother’s Keep, and without omen found the end of its journey within the heart of Phyllaes Herself.



The blow that was landed struck the Realm Queen with such a force that the great anchoring stone she held was relinquished, and onto it spilled forth a black curtain of blood that ran darker than the deepest of storm clouds.

The ten servants and their queen watched helplessly as the curtain was thrown open, and the great stone was imbued with the life of the Night Mother, and the first of her children, the Ancient so long kept at bay by her now waning power roamed free for the first time.

With their mother’s own blood and cunning they crafted the First Ruin from which all others have been crafted, and sealed away what was left of their creator into the Ethereal Plain.

There in the newly formed land, the Ancient created great civilizations, and bread new life into the land known to them as the Great Stone; Avaelia.