Saphel

The world-soul slumbers. The gods shiver in their exile. Look, Seeker, look upon a torn and sealed sky.

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Three ages passed. An age of Making when gods walked the earth. An age of Discovery when mortals made the world their own, and at last an age of tumultuous Ambition, when greed and creation ran rampant and unchecked. At the end of this third age came a calamity, then an age of Calamity. The heavens raged and warred, realty bent and shattered. The song of the world, the song that is the world, frayed, and threatened to fade. A Scourging racked the land, scarring it but also saving it. In the wake of this destruction emerged a new continent, a place composed of many lands hewn apart and fused back together.   It is a place scarred and surely disparaged by the gods, for it was here the divine siblings made their last stand against the Scourging, and the ancient magus who authored it. To outsiders, it may seem a frightening place, hemmed in as it is by both storm and planeblight. They have many names for the dark continent: Cursehome, the New World, Land of the Seal.   Those who carve out a life here know only one name for their strange homeland:   Sableheim.   The Land of the Seal is at once ancient and new. Much of this reborn continent remains unmapped and unexplored. Alongside new wonders, old scars left by the Scourging offers glimpses into the shrouded past. The world churns under the watchful gaze of the Seal, a reminder of the ancient choice that hangs over all life to this day. Mercenaries, explorers, scholars, and vagabonds drift onto the shores of the dark seeking riches and knowledge, but each should go forth with a warning:   Sableheim welcomes Seekers eagerly, but does not easily release them.