So powerful was the trunk in its ascent, that slabs of great rocks from far below the valley soil had been pulled up into sired ridges. The base was half a day's journey around, even upon the swiftest horse. Up from the heart of the teeming valley the regal tree soared, arrayed in animal and vegetative life, prismatic rainbows and falling streams. The sight which greeted the refugees melted their sorrow like a radiant dawn: a tree of such enormous size it was at first mistaken for a mountain, laden with clouds. Under this calamity, the elven gods Aellos and Dythiir led survivors to a lush valley far in the East, the forgotten hallow of race's birth. Thus they are now the Tohr'mentirii, a Severed Host, cut off from elvenhood for all of time." Unifying with the demonic Beasts of Tohr they had so long protected our Three Realms against, the Northern Elves marched upon their brothers without mercy. Any disparity was owed to their own mishandlings and greedy authorities, yet they prodded themselves with false rumors of the West's secret provisions. "For the north deemed themselves suffering unequally. Yet an age of unmitigated pestilence fractured their unity, and in a climax of unrest the militant cities of the North laid waste to the richer lands in the West. Power was concentrated into the Three Realms: Guardian North, Fertile West and Archestral South.
On the planet S'iolaen, the Elves lived as one great host for a thousand years, mastering battle, trade and the arcane.
#Lucent hearts wiki full#
It is a thick opus, full with triumphs and tragedies, begun long before their kind set upon Terminus. To understand the Elves of Faerthale rightly, one must walk among the pages of their ancestors. Sibling hearts divide the race into two distinct groups: ashen Elves steward Faerthale from within, eternally vigilant in watch and guard, while their ember brethren cast an aggressive eye toward the surrounding lands, rooting out evil where it resides. But far more than frail survivors, they are unrivaled artists from architecture to agriculture, with arcane and physical prowesses as natural as the wind, rain and storm. With loyalty that is not easily won or lost, Elves carry an immortal sense of how fleeting life is, born of their own brushes with total extinction. Long afflicted, the Elves now mourn and flourish under the council rule of Faerthale and the brilliance of the Lucent Tree.
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