*An old, bearded elf tells a tale near the Elysium docks.*
History as the Bearded Elf has known it, "I write to you the reader as I sit in a tree-top home hidden deep within the northern forests of Elandriel. An elf, like myself has lived nearly 1500 years long - watching and waiting for this realm to blossom once more. I write of myth, in-which so many have not had the pleasure to hear and I will spend the rest of my days telling it.
After the banishment of Iblees and his curse on the races of Aegis, our ancestors fled to the verge in-hopes to conquer the curses the Daemon stricken them with. They traveled north from the Verge isles that held the portal to what was later named "Asulon", meaning sanctuary.
Wilvan Adonan of the Sanctuary monks sent out the most safe-guarded secret of the triumvirate, Lady Eldecia - to the east in hopes that she would find and protect a new landmass to retreat to, should the curse take hold of them.
However, Wilvan Adonan and the rest of Asulon were unable to live long enough to prepare for such a voyage.
Humans, were withered by age and slain in combat.
Orcs, taken by battle and bloodlust.
Dwarves, consumed by greed and slain by their brethren.
Elves, unable to produce offspring - slowly withered away.
All seem lost for the races of Aegis and as the creator looked over their corpses he knew that they were not ready to overcome to curse that slew them. His gaze returned to Aegis, the land that first birthed his creations and found it fit to harbor the races once more. With a wave of the Creator's hand, soulstones returned themselves to the realm.
The monks of the cloud temple awoke first, at the foot of the old ruined temple.
They repaired the structure and as the wells of life and death were poured, soulstones begun to show themselves and as each day passed, Humans, Orcs, Dwarves and elves were slowly returned to their soulstones. Each with their own faded memory of a past they once knew."