Lost now are the centuries that bore witness to the birth of The Land. Long past are the times when the sunlight was Bright and the Night a place of quiet calm. The Veil closed behnd us, and now our This is our Home.
Once, There was a Kingdom, where heroes were real and the Light and the Dark feuded for control. It was a place of gold and magic, dragons and bright shields. We remember it as Gwynn'leith, little more than a legend now.. It was a ripe place, rich and ready for picking.
Then the Gods came to the world, and sought the Chaos and Blood that is their prophecy, bringing monsters and sacrifices, terror and absolute domination.
Many fought, many fell, but only one fled.
Within Gwynn'leith was a Dukedom, ruled by a Duke whose name has long since faded from the Story. Little is known about him before he made the choice that brought us here. All that is really known about him starts with his death.
Our Duke fought against the Coming of the Gods with a power, passion and devotion unseen in other mortals. Forsaking the Light or the Dark which was his heritage, he made a deal. The deal was signed in blood with the Dark Powers of Death. His fiefdom, and all who were in it, disappeared from that Kingdom, borne away on cold winds. He had saved them all, saved his land from the bloodshed that would devastate Gwynn'leith, and all he had given up was his life, his soul, and the souls of every living creature that was saved. You know the Duke as our revered First Lich.
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