This tale has been passed down to me through many generations, with many details lost to the sands of time, but heed my words tonight, as I tell you of a people that the world has long forgotten.
Many thousands of years ago, in the earliest histories of Yl Ter Tribaht, there was a race that called themselves the Iparé. The Ipare could take the shape of anything they wanted -- they could look like you or I and none would be the wiser. The Ipare believed themselves to be the first humanoids of the Material Plane, and claimed that the rest of us used to be just like them but were cursed or mutated to be “stuck” in this one body.
Because of their duplicitous, shape-shifting ability, the Ipare were not trusted by the other races of the world. For this reason, they were isolated to their own lands, named Orile-ede. Accounts of Orile-ede are scarce -- believe me, I have searched -- travelers who sought this land tell of strange mists that confused them, causing them to walk for days only to emerge from the mists back where they started. The world slowly moved on, and without hearing from the Ipare, they faded from many minds.
One day, thousands of years ago, the mists disappeared, revealing the Area that we now consider the Tri-Hold, empty of any civilization or people. Many at the time were glad to be rid of the Ipare, as they instilled fear and distrust, and believed that the gods smote them for some trickery they must’ve played, or their defiance of the Pantheon in favor of their own false gods. Others said that the Ipare staged their own disappearance so that they could infiltrate our societies and take over Yl Ter Tribaht. Still others said it was all a ruse, and the Ipare never existed.
Such is the way of stories and mysteries, too -- some fear them, some deny them, and some such as I, respect them for the possibilities and wisdom they can contain.
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