The Flight of the Sun
Short history of the abovementioned world
Elves were, it is said, creatures of great beauty, witt, and talent for magic. Their mastery of arcane, perfected by relentless study and effort, made them sole and celebrated rulers of the entire world.
But, it is known, power corrupts; absolute power corrupts absolutely. No hidden and mystical art, however great, cloyed their appetite. Their volatile nature was not as virtuous as it should have been – the allure of the arcane became too great for them to resist.
And so they ceased to choose the means of deepening their knowledge, reaching covetously into the dark and unknown. They overrated their own strenght; the demonic force they evoked had a mind of it’s own, and soon they lost control of it – if they ever had any.
It became obvious to the people of other races that the might of the elves grew, as did their taste for evil. Not being able to control their lust, they brought the very World to the brink of destruction.
Though confronting them seemed hopeless at the time, under the command of a human knight of the Sun, the army of the Rightheous begun to grow. All the others gathered under his flag, and, blessed by the Sun god himself, they defeated the mighty elven army, breaking the forces of death and darkness that fough along side with the elves.
It took decades for the wounds of the land to heal. The Continent, under the rule of the Knight who soon became known as the Emperor, remained the only haven of life and light in the endless sea obscured by mist. Demons were banished into the void, and so people of the Continent lived to see another sunrise.
Many of the survivors demanded all the elves to be executed, but the Emperor did not allow this. He used fire to purify all of them already corrupted by arcane powers, but he spared the children. He could not, however, allow history to repeat itself. And so, all remaining elves were forbidden to ever use magic, as was forbidden for magic to be used on them – even if injured or ill. None of the remaining elves was allowed to learn how to read and write, nor could they enter Sun god’s temples. If they wanted to make an offering, they had to leave it outside.
And though the Emperor, now Sun’s avatar, was mercyful, the God demanded another punishment. Soon, the elves were struck by a horrible disease, and so they became the untouchables, the unclean, the blue-clad.
The world continued to grow and develop – clean races prospered and spread across the whole continent, the Emperor residing in the Divine City on the North. The civilization rose once more, and everything was again as it should be.
But the things in the mist never gave up – they were always near the edge of light, lurking, waiting. And from time to time they came, leaving no survivors behind. Few weapons can stop them. And in the past twenty years, the number of Sleepers rose…