Be part of the world, but never in it.
Back before Arthur had fallen under Mordred’s sword, Glastonbury and its Abbey had been a place of beauty. Now it exists in a nether realm between Avalon and Camelot. Nothing with any kind of decency lives here. Nothing. It is hell. A shadowy realm where there’s no color at all, only shades of dismal gray. Neither good, nor evil, Glastonbury is a neutral zone between Avalon and Camelot. Brought here by sheer accident.
In the original plan, only Camelot and Avalon were supposed to have been taken behind the Veil to conceal them away from the world of mankind in order to protect that world from the evil that had infected this one. But DamÃ© Fortune wasn’t always kind and Glastonbury, along with her prestigious Abbey had been taken behind the Veil too.
Unaware of what was happening on that fateful night when Avalon and Camelot were concealed, numerous men and women had been caught in the middle of the battle and had been trapped here, out of time. In the human world, their families had assumed they’d run off or died. But in this world, they live through the centuries and remember a time when they could leave Glastonbury or Camelot. They remember a time when their world had been vast, when they could come and go as they pleased.
But that is now lost to them.
Banned by accident from the realm of Avalon, their only choice now is to live in Glastonbury or to venture into the lands of Camelot which are fraught with evil beings who live only to torture and kill those foolish enough to approach them.
For an obvious reason, the occupants of Glastonbury choose to stay in the limited neutral zone. Yet with every passing year, their neutrality dwindled and the inhabitants look more and more like the twisted souls who call Camelot home.
At one time, they’d been mostly decent people. But then, in times of war, it’s always the innocent who suffer most and in this war, they were the innocent bystanders who’d been caught between the two most powerful forces on earth.
If one stood in the northernmost tower of the Abbey or the Tor, they could glimpse the division of the lands. To the left is the curtain of light and color that delineates Avalon. To the right is the dark gray world that is Morgen’s Camelot.
It should be easy to cross the line of demarcation. But looks are definitely deceiving. To the soulless and damned beings who live in Camelot, the light of Avalon is truly painful. It burns so much that only a small handful of them can bear it.
For those who lives in Avalon, the darkness is something to fear. It’s said that any who dare to venture to it would be consumed by it. To live in darkness is to surrender all that’s good inside them. The Dark is a vicious mistress who demands the sacrifice of morals and decency.
And in the middle of those two lands is this one. Banished to eternal night, there’s no color here, anymore than there is in Camelot. The sky fluctuates from black to a drab gray. Days blur together as the townsfolk try to find any solace from their miserable fate.
â€˜Tis said that when the great Penmerlin Aquila pulled Avalon and Camelot out of the human realm to protect the race of man from the fey queen’s army, part of Morgen’s court ran to the Abbey, thinking they’d be safe from her powers. As they did so, it pulled the Merlin’s magick here and damned the unfortunate occupants to dwell in the shadows for all time.
And since it’s controlled by the Celtic gods. No god from another pantheon can go there without losing power or declaring war. At least not without a direct invitation and clearance. So it waits behind the Veil for a time when it might again be part of this world . . . and its people pray for a day when they might again be free from their prison and the demons and dark fey who torment them.