As described in the article "
Dawn of Primal Desires," Elderon, the One Whose Heart Was the World, did not enter Wardenfall by intention, but by aching consequence. Their arrival was not a step, but a shattering. A divine being whose mere presence bent the laws of existence. Fire changed in their breath. Wind spoke lost lullabies. Where Elderon walked, the world did not obey. It responded. Unable to contain their boundless essence, the material realm fractured them, scattering echoes of emotion across the land. Thus began the Shattering. Not born of war or conquest, but of sorrow. From this rupture came Myruel, the Veiled Flame, Kaethros, the Devourer, and Il’Vaara, the Mirror of Flesh. Each a facet of Elderon’s divine truth made manifest.
These three Primals, fragments of a being too vast to remain whole, did not choose dominion. Instead, they seeded the planes. Realms not crafted by design, but felt into being. The Feywild, the Abyss, the Nine Hells, the Far Realm, the Shadowfell, and the Astral Sea. Each was born from distilled emotion, given shape through sacrifice. Wardenfall, the material world, became the crucible of their legacy. A world balanced on the edge of their memory. What remains of Elderon and the Primals is not form, but resonance. Mountains hum with grief. Forests blush with joy. Oceans churn with regret. The gods and devils may rule, but every prayer, every nightmare, is a scar left by these ancient beings. And as the article concludes, even a scar, if deep enough, can reshape the world.
