Times have changed in Valorin. I remember when the races were united as one. Understanding that their differences were what made them powerful, and their bonds are what drove evil from the light. I am writing this as the last of my kind, in hope that someone will find this and heed the warnings that the foolhardy men and women that drive their people into oblivion did not. There are changes in the winds. There was a time when magic flourished and the lands rich, healthy, and alive.

The trees of the Twilight Vale seemed to touch the sky, and it’s people wild and untamed weaved magical tales for the world to hear. Now they bear the chains of law, order, and servitude. The trees severed from their thousand year sleep to feed the expansion’s of the powerful.

The fishermen of the Ruunne… strong, stubborn, and steadfast. Brewers of the finest ale in all of Valorin are now slowly withering away. There are no fish and their lands will not grow wheat for their ale.

These things change and no one see’s the balance of power shift…

The great woodland elves of Ellenon. The voices of the magic… the last great connection to the time of Faerie. Gone… and what few remain… those trapped outside those great halls when it vanished into the night… no magic came to bear. Their wells run dry as if the source of their great power went with their home.

Still, none bat an eye. Still, none heed my warnings…

The Dwarves and the Orcs… Craftsmen with no equals other than their counterparts. Orc steel had crafted weapons of legend. Wars were won and lost by their might. Dwarven chain mail has saved the lives of Kings, and my own on occasion. Once great banners of trade, they now hide in their mountains. Their Kings cowards in the face of what threatens their lands.

Poison envelopes all. They feign ignorance…

I have seen with my own eyes what comes in the night. Horrors thought once only to be a tale for fireside stories. They appear mostly human, other than their blank, dead eyes and empty expressions. Inwardly they were something else entirely; their humanity erased, their identity remade. They were predatory and animalistic, given to killing everything that moved.

I haven’t the strength to face these evils. I am old and my life is finite. These Once Men I believe are only the beginning of things to come. Only the face of the evil that threatens Valorin. My magic wanes, as does the light. But I will preserve that which can defend these lands. For it is a task of necessity. I send this message to any who would defend our world. To any great heroes that remain. With the last of my magic I speak to you! Answer my call!

-Bremen
Last of the Druids
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The Mountain of Once Men

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