Welcome to Everia
"Time dances away from us all, even for the Everliving." - Seeker Ilsen Banne
Everia is a world that was once torn asunder by a dark history. Two equally strong but divided Empires stood on the brink of war held at bay only by old superstitions and an almost impenetrable mountain range. Kalandar to the southwest was filled with the new folk. The humans, halflings and the other races from across the sea invading the continent like a uncontrollable blaze. The natives of Kalandar assimulated or destroyed. Northeast of the Daggermaw mountains , the Kingdom of Eldorai lived in a past time had forgotten, the strength of dwarves and the almost immortality of the elven kin made the eastern side of the mountains a veritable land time forgot. Great old magics flowing out across the plains, mountains and rivers.
In the year 542 much suddenly and irrevocably changed when from deep within the ground came the rubble of shifting earth that moved mountains, dried oceans, and broke the will of the people on both sides. Death followed on the wings of change and the great quakes took many souls. The mountains that once kept the races separate fell into the earth over a matter of weeks. Rent from the world as if the deities of Everia had reached out and pulled them into the depths. This once tall mountain range vanished and with it the lands of Kalandar slide into the sea. In place of the southern arm of the Daggermaw mountains came what was soon known as The Grey Fissure, a 500 mile long almost bottomless scar filled with the ocean sinuously wrapping itself between the destroyed nation to the southwest and what is now the great plains on the west coast of Kalandorei.
As those that escaped the calamity began to forge new lives and spread across the western seaboard many of the everliving migrated to the traditional homes of elves. Many chose to venture into the Heprath Woods, or even further through the mountains to into Tangkalbumi. The dwarves stolid as always continued as they always had, mining earth, building, and searching the dark places for gems and fortune. The young races did as man does and just spread-out colonizing all they could of this new magical and mystical playground.
On the lost continent the only vestige of the once accomplishments of man was one great city. Daintree still remained standing on a tiny island, its outer walls a mere few hundred feet from the ocean on all sides. A lone island in an otherwise destroyed wasteland. Islandholme a lost city of the dwarves would rise some 250 years later out of the sea to the south west of Daintree. A city thought lost long before the mountains crumbled.
The youngling races built new monoliths to man's ingenuity with new cities rising anywhere they could find stone, wood and a shovel. The city of Hegelind arose on the new western coast at the eastern end of the fissure and became the center for all trade in the new kingdom of Kalandorai. Weren to the north with permission from the elves rose in a large clearing in the Heprath woods that nothing would grow on.
Trade between the races took some years but most folk, both young races and old now begrudgingly work together to maintain an accord and protect each other’s backs.
