Darkness held the universe in its hands. There was no life in the lands of Lluvandor. Barren and parched, the planet was nothing but ashes and dust; until one day...

     A burst of light ignited in the sky. Blinding light, seeming to engulf the entire universe. Moments later a terrible crash, as if one of the moons had fallen from the sky overhead. Deep within the crator lay the body of a great mage from another land. Drahkarl rose to his feet slowly. His body merly scratched from the impact. He looked to the sky with hate filled eyes. This is not the first time he had been defeated. His conflict with Lithierion and Vulcinius had been waging for well over ten centuries. It was time he changed his strategy. He began casting spells deep within Lluvandor's rocky surface. Creating a fortress of sorts. He knew it was only a matter of time before one of his enemies came looking for him. He began building an army. Creatures dark and full of malice, yet quick and graceful in their movements. He called these the Morion, or sons of the dark. They needed little to survive. Drahkarl brought the dark plants and water to Lluvandor to provide for his new army. He also brought the art of fire to his followers, allowing them to craft their own weapons and armor for destruction.

     Little did Drahkarl know his plan had already been noticed. The great mage Vulcinius had begun the construction of his own army. A tall and proud breed. Cunning in their craftsmenship yet thirsty for power and easily corrupted. For his followers Vulcinius brought the life giving plants to Lluvandor. He released his minions into the lands of Lluvandor to claim land in his name. However they quickly found that some land had already been taken by Drahkarl's forces. War quickly followed. Both factions fought fiercly in the name of their creators. Yet both sides were ill prepared for what was yet to come.

     In a Horrible flash of light a star was created. Terror siezed Drahkarl's minions. They fled for their dark forests and caves. Vulcinius's troops held their ground preparing for Lithierion's attack. However there was none.

     Centuries passed by. The creatures once created for nothing but death and destruction began forgetting why they were fighting. Civilization came to Lluvandor. The races of men, gnomes, and ogres came to being. Later they found the real reason of Lithierion's star. The sons of light had been born. The elves had taken up home in the many forests covering Lluvandor. Lithierion had brought the healing water and light to Lluvandor.

     The three mages had brought forth their minions to the lands of Lluvandor. Through these beings the mages continue to war. Fighting for supremecy over the other mages creations and all life on Lluvandor.