When your grandmother's grandmother's mother was but a child, hear
the tale of a beautiful city in the trees on the shores of a wondrous lake where hot springs bubbled and the people lived in peace with the land.
Fyrelake! Its bountiful waters blessed us with life. Fyrelake our father, the great forest our mother. We who were blessed by The Mother Of All, Tunare, we protected and nourished our lands. We who, with our troll allies were friends of the land and all of the creatures of Tunare, and in turn we wanted for naught.
And then one day,
the great evil came - who can say what happened? Perhaps some few mistreated the gifts of the forest, forsaking our Mother Tunare. Some say it was an evil the trolls awoke in fabled Najena. Nevertheless, the waters of Fyrelake our father warmed and the fish of the lake began to die. A smoking mountain arose and spewed forth ashes which spread across our lands, our great trees began to choke and die, their leaves smothered. The creatures of the land turned against each other in the very need
for survival, and then the fire goblins came.
See in your mind's eye, my children, a city under siege, wave after wave of fire goblins and their unseemly ilk. Fire elementals, fire snakes, and worse: the evil fire drakes who flew through the trees, scooping up our young in their talons! Then our city began to burn.
And so then, we gathered up what we could and left our city. No path was safe, and thus we scattered to the winds. Hoping against hope that some of us might find
surcease in distant lands, and so a small remnant of a great tribe came to the great Sea of Tears and set sail. Our small band found no welcome in the lands of the Dwarven folk. We crossed the Butcher Block Mountains, and here we found a great forest, with near kinfolk. So here we stay, but we never forget our home, or where we came from, or who we are. To this day, we remember Fyrelake, wherever it may be. Some say our ancient home is forever gone - the Lavastorm Mountains now, or
perhaps filled by a great sea, or flooded by ice like the fabled lands of the barbarians. We remember our kinfolk who may have found rest in some other land. We remember our troll allies and hope they escaped into their subterranean homes. But for those of our kinfolk who still wander, perhaps someday we will find them.
Or they will find us...
Thus it was told to me, and thus I have shared with you. Go in peace to serve the land.
Skyefyre Talespinner
