These are the stories told to us by our fathers.
The world we live in was shaped by the eternal struggle between Light and Dark. They gave birth to great beings of unfathomable power who used Krell as their arena. Their wars shaped the very land, and from the dimming sparks and shattered fragments of their battles were born humans, a fragile but cunning race and as warlike as their creatores. Where before the gods found meaning only in their constant struggle, they then found peace in the adulations of mortals. Instead of fighting their own battles, they nurtured and guided this new race, giving birth to nations and granting favor on the battle field before withdrawing to their celestial leaving behind tales of their divine might, but little of their unearthly magic. From their strongholds they sat to watch the fate of mankind unfold.
These are the stories told to us by our fathers. It is the tale we tell every day, written with a quill upon the diplomat’s parchment and with steel upon the battlefield.