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Regoria, "Land of Divergence" in the tongue of the Far North Elves, "Dawns Are Gone" in the language of the Dwarves, is a massive continent south of the magical north.  Host to many kingdoms, and even more conflicts, Regoria is a land of mystery and clarity.  Nomads and fortresses.  Rivers and deserts.  War and peace.  Hot and cold.  Brigands and barons.  Passion and loathing.  Assassins and soldiers.  Love and hatred.  You have heard of its rich tales from bards and kings alike, but there is much more to tell.  To get to the heart of Regoria's stories, we must go back...to the beginning. 

The Early Elven Explorers

The land of Carnethiel is much like many other lands.  In the north are snowcapped mountains, home to dwarves and trolls.  To the south, warm forests and jungles; the realm of elves.  In the center are the woodlands and grasslands, which mark the domain of men and halflings, and their mortal enemies; the Goblins.  Ogres and Cylcopses prowl the lands at night, while Orcs hunt in the day.  Beneath the feet of the ground-walkers are the kingdoms of the wicked Drow, and their Grey Dwarven servants.  It's safe to say that Carnethiel is a very difficult place to live, but its inhabitants accept the challenge.

You see, the act of adventuring is as much a part of life to some, as working a shop is to others.  Eager young heroes and heroines will leave home in search of quest and treasure, or to slay evil and spread righteousness.  Or only to see the world.

It was this questing mentality that led a group of Elves in the southern woods of Aidrall to construct mighty ships and sail southward.  What they hoped to find was an ancient city of the Dragonborn.  What they found instead was the Stalwart Isles.

And, to their surprise, groups of humans already lived there.  And, even more surprising, they lived in harmony.  Elegolor, the leader of the expedition, even recorded in his journal, "I was hesitant at first to approach them, for I feared that their peace was some sort of trick.  It was so impossible, so amazing.  Never have I seen such simple life.  The people of this island are a beauty that surely belongs in the next life.  They are out of place in this horrible world."

The Elves set up a colony on the largest island, Thalony.  They called the town, Mistaer.  Elegolor was crowned its Prince.

The Thalsings, as the natives called themselves, were eager to learn from these strange visitors.   They were especially interested in the Elve's use of magic, something which worried Elegolor.  At first, the Elves were keen to keep magic a secret from the Thalsings, for they knew of its destructive power and did not want to ruin what they saw as a Perfect World.  But after badgering, and pestering, and begging from the Thalsings, the Elves allowed the Village Priests and Nobles to study the few magical texts they had brought with them.

Within a matter of weeks, the Magical Thalsings were capable of producing spells that were not in the Elve's books.  Elegolor states, "The speed of their enlightenment scares me.  Have we ruined this land?  How long will it be until they discover how to make fire from thin air?  How long will it be before they are throwing energy at each other with furious grace.  How long will it be before they learn the ways of war?  Our war."

Elegoric Philosophy was simple: "Magic is for the Monk, not for the Farmer."  Elegolor put in place strict rules for the proper uses of magic, and the improper uses of magic.  All magical scripts were locked in the Cathedral of Mistaer, and under constant watch.  Only priests and nobles could even see the books.  But it wasn't long before the arcane arts leaked into the minds of the Thalsic peasantry.  All thanks to one man, and his "gift from god".

Ior was his name, and he studied the Elven scripts to learn of the land they came from.  It was here that he discovered something shocking; the Elves had no adherence to Prince Elegolor's laws.  In fact, all people from their land could practice magic.  Ior quickly spread the news.

The Thalsings were furious, as you could imagine, and Ior demanded that they let the Magic Scripts into public hands.  Elegolor retorted with a speech of the dangers of magic, and the trouble it has caused.  But the Thalsings saw this as condescending, for they thought they were capable of handling any problems that came their way.

Ior, meanwhile, began attempting magic himself.  He had been close many times, but had yet to succeed.  In the Square of Mistaer, Prince Elegolor began spreading the word that magic was impossible for the common man to use, and only Noble Blood could summon it.  According to him, all Elves were of Noble Blood.  He knew this was false, but it would stop the meddling Thalsings.

Ior was now more eager than ever to prove Elegolor wrong.  One misty night, with a full moon in the sky, Ior sat in front of a fire, contemplating his troubles.  Within a short time, he began to doze off.  When he awoke, the fire seemed slightly larger.  He went to sleep again.  When he woke up this time, the fire seemed yet larger.  Then he fell back asleep.  And when he woke up, the fire was consuming his home.  With no water in sight, he tried to escape the burning building.  But the door itself was in flames.

Ior then tried something else, he tried to put out the fire with his mind.  He focused the hardest he had in his life, and, amazingly, the fire became but smoke.  His neighbors, and most of Mistaer, arrived in front of his smoking home.  When he emerged, he announced to all, "The Gods favor me!  And they favor us all!"

Elegolor could not do anything to stop it.  The Thalsings saw Ior as a symbol of their race's magical prowess, and demanded that they would all be taught.  Amazed and defeated, Prince Elegolor stepped down, and crowned Prince Ior.  Ior renounced the old laws, and made magic a craft for all.

Ioric Rule was carefree and relaxed, and magic was used for the simplest of things.  They lit fires for cooking with spells.  They healed the ill with spells.  They dried their wet clothes with spells.  They had complete arcane freedom.  At last, every Thalsing could do what they wish.  But the Elves were ashamed of what they had done.

Elegolor and his Elven party left Mistaer and went back to their ships.  In one month, they had forever changed their "Pefect World".  Elegolor would remember the Stalwart Incident for most of his life, as a sign of the profound responciblity put upon his kind.  For the rest of his exploring days, Elegolor would be careful to never repeat what had happened to the simpicity of Mistaer.

Tomorrow, the Elves arrive in Turuc!  What stories await!?

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