In the Age of Ancients,
The world was unformed, shrouded by fog
A land of grey crags, archtrees, and everlasting dragons
But then there was Fire
And with Fire came Disparity. Heat and cold, life and death, and of course... Light and Dark.
Then, from the Dark, They came
And found the Souls of Lords within the flame.
Nito, the first of the dead
The Witch of Izalith, and her daughters of chaos
Gwyn, the Lord of Sunlight, and his faithful knights
And the furtive pygmy, so easily forgotten
With the Strength of Lords, they challenged the dragons.
Gwyn's mighty bolts peeled apart their stone scales
The witches weaved great firestorms
Nito unleashed a miasma of death and disease
And Seath the Scaleless betrayed his own, and the dragons were no more
Thus began the Age of Fire
.
.
.
But soon, the flames will fade, and only Dark will remain
Even now, there are only embers, and man sees not light, but only endless nights
And amongst the living are seen, carriers of the accursed Darksign.