Long ago, at the turn of the last millennium, the Kingdom of Albion had yet to be born. At that time men and fey lived in peace and harmony across the lands, stretching from what is now the Empire of Honshu, right across the lands we know as Albion and on into the Bloodwood which was then home to thousands of fey and men and had not that evil name. The mountains were left alone for the Dragon that men called Blaze made them his home. The ancient fey wonder that was the city of Sylvandale was nestled deep in the heart of the wood and no man could see its beauty and remain unmoved. The guardians of that beauty were the Sylvarran, known by men as the Elves of the Eagle, a group of fey unrivalled in their use of the bow. They were identified by a mark that was found at birth, of the eye of a hunting bird at the base of their right palm. This mark was hereditary and all the Sylvarran lived and worked in the great sprawling forest. These children were weaned on the sap of the legendary Tree of Life deep within the northern reaches of the forest. Through their diligence the fabled city of Sylvandale was protected from the rampaging orcs and other evil that once roamed the forests. It was a time of great joy, peace and happiness. Until He came.
In the year 1001, as the men of the land counted, a great blight fell over what is now Albion. Unknown to the men and fey of the land, He had come. The Demon Prince, the Lord of All Evil walked the lands. The toll He took on the land is uncountable, but finally the men of the plains and the fey of the woods fought together against the Demon Prince and his hordes. In this epic battle, fought on the longest day of that same year the great city of Sylvandale was laid to waste by the hordes of the Demon Prince. Many men and fey gave their lives in that fight, but with the help of the great wizard Titus, the Demon Prince was slain, his evil threat removed from the world once and for all. Sadly the Elves of the Eagle, the Sylvarran also perished to a man, their skill and beauty also gone from the world forever. Many generations ago the dwarves of Khazagrim stumbled across a huge root in one of the south western mines. As usual when they find roots in their digging they simply chopped it away. However, the next day when they came back to continue digging the mine, they found the root had completely recovered and grown back. Perturbed by this the dwarves once again hacked the root away. The next day it was back. So they started burning the wood as they removed it. This seemed to have no effect. Every day since then the tidy and predictable dwarves sent a team of cutters to clear the newly grown root away. This went on for over 1200 years. Just over 200 years ago a creative dwarf had the idea to use experiment with the woodcuttings and found they had healing properties. So the dwarves started to make potions from the pulped up cuttings, still burning the excess. However this practice fell out of use, as it was not profitable. One day, about 100 years ago, Prince Nolo Ironbrand, leader of a Dwarven Trade Mission out and about in Albion sold one of these healing potions to a sick elven woman who was heavy with child. She gave birth to a boy who had a strange tattoo on his arm, but she died in childbirth. This boy was called Thoron'ereb, and grew up raised by human's after his mother's death, with the human name Flek. He was prophesised to bring the Sylvarran back into the world in a tale penned long ago which told of the Fall of the Sylvarran. Unknown to the dwarves, this root was the root of the tree the fey call the Tree of Life. This tree was located deep within the northern reaches of the forest then known as Sylvandale and was the tree that gave life to the Sylvarran – they were weaned on its sap. When the dwarves started to cut at the root the vitality of the Tree was lost and it withered and nearly died - its power to produce Sylvarran all but gone. Thus the numbers of the Sylvarran dropped alarmingly away in the years before the Demon Prince came.