Across the spanning aeons of time the Universe has spun in its lonely single dance, moving from one era to the next, spinning in and out new worlds and new stars into the sky. Terra is a young planet and Sol a young star in the vast wonder of the Universe yet it contains some of the most miraculious life ever created by the Universe under Gaea’s Eyes. Life that still looks up into the sky to gaze at the glittering of Stella’s Jewels, the stars, and wonder what they mean, and what they had meant for themselves.
For some time the Humans belived themselves the only true sientient race that thrived upon the furtile lands of Terra under Gaea’s watchful gaze, beliving themselves her only children; still legends told of others, told of more, a different people. A People of the New Moon, Gaea’s Blessed Children, those that kept to her deep forests and isles where none would ever see them.
Hidden amung the forests the Elven race thrived as well. As semi-nomadic tribes in the deep forests of the northern Celtic lands. Small bands of families that kept to themselves away from Humankind as much as they could, tending to the wildlife and the forests that they lived in. Following traditions more ancient than themselves they lived on in such a way in perfect harmony with nature, Gaea’s Creation. Protectors, kindred to the wilds, they danced with the Universe and Terra understanding the power surrounding them.
Faeriekith were their bond-sisters and brothers as they were the personified natures of the Universe, Terra, and Gaea. Transformed from mere elemental forces into actual sentient beings by the spirits of those who lives around them and believed in them. The Elves were closest to the Faerie and all their kin following the same understanding and the same dance. In time the Elven race became as legendary and mythical as the Faerie themselves. Appearing in the folklore of the Celtic people and of the times.
As all things, this wonderous Age had to come to an end, and it did suddenly. Without near enough warning the Great Strive, as most evens spake of it, was upon the Elven race. Discovered by the overwhelmingly blooming Human population they were forced to defend themselves from extinction frist from the warlike people of the lands that they in habited, then from the Romans as they faught for their conquest of Gaul and other Celtic provinces. The Stive continued as a merely silent war to the Humans for nearly a century, the Elves being forced to fight to defend themselves developed weapons, where the ideal that most Elvens are good with bows. What better way to keep an enemy at bay than to hide in a tree and pick them off one by one. The Elves faught with every grain that they were worth, magicks, swords, arrows … but the end appeared to be nearing for them and their entire race. Then they suddenly vanished.
Gone like a summer squall the Elves vanished suddenly and abruptly at the end of the Great Strive, none know exactally what happened to them. Jumping into a portal to another plane of existence, another time perhaps? Their dissapearance was compleete leaving nearly no trace of them or their existance. Naetheless, some were left behind, these Elves were forced to live amungst Humans to survive, living silent and solitary lives never knowing if another of their kin was out there…
Now, many years later, we are still here.
Those who have lived their lives in silence must now seek out their other kin, to become what we once were before. May the Elven race thrive once again as it did before…may the Old Ways never be forgotten.