Original Story of Avendar
In the beginning, were the gods. Some to create, some to destroy, some to taint, others to bring hope, others to simply be. The gods, though, were alone in the universe. Seeking a canvas for their essence, they created the world of Avendar. And, edged along ever so carefully by the gods of creation, they created the Alatharya, FirstChildren of the gods.
To the Alatharya, the gods gave their greatest gift - Magic. Magic to create, magic to destroy, magic, some portion of each of the god's essences was sent to swirl through the prime material, creating the ether from which mages drew.
As time passed, the Alatharya waxed mighty. The gods, pleased, began plans for other creations, each mighty in their own way. But the Alatharya were not pleased with the god's plans to make others - jealous of the thought that other children might bring the god's attention away from them, and coveting the Quintessence, they sought to steal the power of the gods. With their mighty pyramids, and strange rites, their priests and scholars came together one fateful night for a grand theft. In their hubris, they sought to steal the power of the gods for themselves, and make of themselves Creators.
But, alas, 'twas not to be. The gods knew of the theft, and instead of invoking the power of the gods, they invoked their deepest and darkest wrath. All across Avendar, the great cities of the Alatharya were rent in blood and fire - their libraries burned, their pyramids turned to rubble, their homes driven to the four winds. The revenge of a god is not a small thing, and the revenge of the combined might of a pantheon can level entire worlds. So it was that the Alatharya were cast from their pinnacle as the mightiest of races. No more would the minds of the Alatharya follow the intracies of magic - nor would the Alatharya do nought than strive for balance in their day to day life, fearful of retribution for their ancient crime. And, lastly, the gods sundered Magic from its pure form into its elemental components. Water, Spirit, Wind, Fire, Void, and Earth did it break them, and forever shatter the mortal dream of attaining the divine through mystic arts.
This sundering of the Magic released cataclysmic storms of magic over the surface of Avendar, changing and altering all that they touched. Of the god's new children, vast changes were wrought, some for good, some for ill. The Aelin were granted flight, and the gift of keen reason. The Caldarans learned wisdom, and were turned from the night. At the same time, the brutal Srryn were born, spawn of languid swamp and foul hearts. Beneath the earth fled the Shuddeni, blind minions of pure darkness, driven mad, some say, by a love of much knowledge.
The centuries after the Sundering of Magic were dark ones. It was not until some hundreds of years that civilization began anew, with the proud Aelin and their cities in the skies. Striving, perhaps, for a memory of things past, they collected the artifacts of the ancient Alatharya, and built cities that at least faintly echoed the glories of ancient days.
And so it was the Aelin waxed powerful, the Srryn confined to their torpid swamps and the Shuddeni to their caves, and all others brought into alliance with them. For a time, it appeared the world would never again no such a destruction, until, at last, the gods allowed a new race to awaken on Avendar - the humans.
The humans were taken by any and all things, some easily swayed to evil, others relentless paragons of virtue. Some claimed them akin to gods, others to devil-spawn of the Void, others still to reckless children. Nevertheless, the passion that drove the humans lead them, at first, into a reckless alliance with the brutal Srryn.
In their midnight rituals, the Srryn had learned much of the ways of fire. Fire to burn, fire to make their will be done - fire, to destroy. The humans, always more keen of wit, seized the secrets of the Srryn fire shamans, cultivated among their numbers the first Scholars of Fire. Savage men, of an unholy taste for pleasure and power, unleashed their magics across the surface of Avendar. Securing the yoke about their fellow men, the great Scholars of Fire also trained warlords, or templars of fire, to command in battle with the sword, and yet still reign destruction with the forces of fire. Most of the races scattered before the hordes of humans and Srryn that plundered all they found, but the Aelin stood to defend their cities, and forged an alliance to fight to keep the humans at bay, lest the night consume all.
Cities were reduced to ash. Aelin died in droves, using their already small collection of ancient artifacts to drive the humans back. And yet, again and again the humans surged forward. Quick to breed, quick to die, the humans stood at the verge of a destruction that would consume all.
Fortunately, not all among the humans thought as the Scholars of Fire. Small in number, but present, were humans who sought meaning in more than brute destruction. Groping blindly, they sought to bring peace, to heal, to purify. They craved a life spent in other activity than blind devotion to an orgy of chaos and destruction.
Praying to the gods, they were answered. Jolinn, Father of the Seas, Lord of the Sapphire Spear, sent these brave few to seek the titans, who dwelt high in the mountains, where they had slumbered since the Sundering. Waking, they taught the humans of the magics of Water, and of the strength of the Seas. These humans returned, and became the first of the Scholars of Water. Born to bring healing to a troubled land, their love of life quenched the inferno of the fire mage's hate. With their aid, the Aelin drove the armies of Fire back to the swamps, where most of the Scholars of Fire were put to the sword.
Thus ended what the chronicles tell of as the War of Fire, when men nearly brought ruin once more to the world. And yet, the Aelin were not the ones to come to dominance after the war. The humans, their passion driving them still, slowly grew in numbers across the surface of Avendar, while the Aelin remained in their cities, lost in the intracicies of their own life. Those humans not already devoted to healing learned much of the ways of earth from the god Iandir, who brought law once more to the hills and valleys of Avendar. Men paused in their mad growth, and built cities, homes, places of staying, order, and protection. And thus, many thousands of years passed. Quarrels came and went, but none so great as a war to drench and entire world in Fire. And so it was that the empire of the Humans subsumed the entire world. And yet, the humans were drawn to more than just the surface, and began their explorations of the nether regions of Avendar. There, they found the great cities of the Shuddeni, a race blinded by the night, but who still saw much, and gloried in the horror of the demon sultans who taught them.
Here, human scholars went who wished to learn more. Tortured they were by the Shuddeni, but some, a few, learned their ways. Combining the ritual of the Shuddeni with the ancient learning of the humans, the discipline of the Void was born.
Who can say why the gods suffer such things to exist? Certainly, the gods of the dark revel in the Void, the Things which inhabit it not always of their own creation, but often after their own heart. Certainly, what the Scholars of the Void did was the antithesis of life, and everything living, but the gods of light could not bring and end to them without disturbing the balance of the world.
So it was, those humans who studied with the Shuddeni waxed mighty in their counsuls, and taught the Shuddeni much of the ways of war. The Shuddeni culture, grown stagnant in their millennia under stone, was re-energized by the promise of conquest above the surface. On the blackest night, of the darkest day of the year, the humans and their Shuddeni allies road forth from the caves of their dank abyss, to usher in an age of Night the world had never known.
Striking with meaning, order, and purpose rather than out of blind rage, the forces of the Void took cities, rather than burning them, and corrupted them to their will. Mothers were forced to offer their children as appeasement in unholy rites, designed to serve the Things which dwell beyond, some were kept as slaves, but the cities under the sway of the Void lived, even if they were more the corpses of cities than anything resembling a living organism.
The templars of water mounted counter-assault after counter-assault. Some times, with success, other times, with failures. For over a hundred years, the two sides held sway in a series of enormous battles. With time, thought, the Scholars of Water found their magic growing weaker - the Things of the void had grown strong on the flesh of the young, and pressed for more mortal flesh. When all seem darkest, when even great Earandam thought to send its children to the Aelin amidst the moutain, the unthinkable happend in the ranks of the Void.
Their dark rites prepared, their rituals chanted, they brought forth not demons or other Things, they brought forth instead the Ch'taren. The Ch'taren, whether exiles from the world of dreams or even the fabled astral plane, had used the magic of the void against itself, and had travelled into the Prime Material by means of their gateways.
Bringing with them large numbers and the magics of the Spirit, they routed the dreadlord templars of the void to their holes in the ground, where those that served Fire waited, and picked off the weak among them. Humans learned of the freedom of the Spirit, and everywhere, cast off their chains, and drove the fiends of the Void back once more into seclusion.
And, thus ended the War of the Night, where men learned that the candle of hope flickers even in the blackest of times. The Ch'taren settled among men, whose empire lies shattered. The other races, long secluded by humankind, came forth to a new Renaissance. Some learned of the ways of the Aelin, and brought forth their own creation - the magic of Air, which sought no rule, order, or code, merely meaning in its own chaotic existence.
Thus, all six of the great elemental magics were brought to Avendar. Men, in time, sought to form again their empire, but found the world too vast a place - Eldritch inhabitants of forest oaks, Dark winged Noferatu dangling in their dark places, and even the Alatharya of yore were returned in diminished form.
Still, for a time men formed a Republic on the main continent of their home, but, in recent times, these alliances were sundered by the raids of the Kankoran barbarians and their allies. This has resulted in the city states we see today - Earandam the grand, Var Bandor, and even Ashta Harrud, desert capitol of commerce.
All races today find more meaning in finding their own niche in the struggle for power, rather than a great gasp at one empire. The Houses of Avendar reflect this diversification of thought among the people of Avendar. Likewise, the Scholars' Towers, were even the mages of void and spirit exist in an uneasy detente.
Moreso than any time in history, the world is a wide place, separated by long distances, with opportunity awaiting around every street corner in the great cities. A time, where, perhaps, the future belongs to those who would take it, and dare to tread the Siege Perilous - a time for adventurers.....
