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This story begins like any other.... Well, not like any other, really. Ages ago there was peace in the world. The nations lived happily together, existing in harmony. Each of the four nations bore its own crest, the crest of one the Great Races that populated its lands. Though the nations bore great differences, they learned to live together as the Great Races lived together. But the peace of their world, as real as it seemed to them, was soon to be tested and proven as false.
On the eastern coast of the country Ne'ar landed a great legion. They were shadows, dark and formless. They attacked ruthlessly, taking lives as they pleased and scarring the land. This was a country of scholars, the arts and knowledge important to those that lived there. None knew the art of war nor of weapons. They fell quickly and easily. Though these were a people of peace and learning, they that lived with them were the Gryphons. This was a mighty race, a natural instinct to fight and kill matched with great intellect. They fought for the lives of their human people, yet lost. These people, humans from the cities and the faeries from their mountain homes across the large bridges to the land Avrair.
The remaining nations didn't band together, however. They drew apart, becoming reclusive and suspicious of any and all. And, in their paranoia and fear, they began their long slides into destruction.
And so it truly begins......