Avaria: A World Fractured by Divinity, Bound by Fire and Fate
In the shattered echoes of a divine war, Avaria stands on the brink.
Once whole beneath the unified light of Manus the Maker and Estra the Giver, the world now teeters between sacred order and encroaching ruin. The old pantheon is broken. Their four divine children—exiled and corrupted—whisper through dreams and deeds, shaping mortals toward salvation or ruin. Above them all, the maddened god Kharn watches, hungering for chaos, his breath stirring the flames of rebellion, heresy, and war.
From the gilded towers of Aurion, the theocratic heart of the Empire of Manus and Estra, Prophet-Queen Selendra IV rules with divine mandate and iron will. Her word is scripture, her enemies branded as heretics or traitors. Beneath her banner march the Dawnwardens, lightning-born demigods, enforcing obedience with celestial fury. Yet even the Empire’s grip weakens. Cults fester in alleyways, noble houses plot in shadows, and the Prophet’s own crusade into the fractured south may yet be her undoing.
To the north and west, the Breakaway Kingdoms endure: Pallaria, forged in rebellion and iron; Gentrisia, a land of healers and druids who remember the grace of Estra’s touch; and the Minervan Accord, where arcane minds pierce realms better left undisturbed. Though sundered by faith and history, these realms share a fragile pact, born of necessity and threatened by betrayal from within.
But nowhere is safe.
The Chaos Realms bleed into the borders. The very earth groans as Godshard anomalies tear at reality’s seams, relics of divine essence that twist nature and soul alike. In the south-western wastes, Lord Sorin Blightvale rules a cursed land where the dead do not rest, and truth itself can be bartered for blood. Further south, mercenary states, pirate lords, and exiled mages scheme for survival as the Iron Crusade marches ever closer.
And above all, fate moves beneath the skin of the world.
Some are chosen. Branded by gods, fate, or something older still. They dream of storms, of sigils burning in the dark, of the final clash where the realms will rise, or fall.
In Avaria, every oath echoes through eternity. Every act of defiance shapes the soul. Every prayer may be a weapon or a curse.
Will you obey the will of the Empire? Will you rise with the Southern Concord? Or will you heed the whispers of the forgotten gods, and forge a new path through ash and storm?
The world is breaking. What part will you play?
