Excerpt from Elen’s Histories, Volume II Chapter 3, Part 1
Have you ever heard of Djekare Shennai? The impenetrable gates of the East? Once, there stood a fortress whose walls were so thick and towers so tall that all across Phasis it was a legend. It stood in place for two thousand years, the ancient magic that held it together never faltering, the elves who guarded it never wavering. It rebuffed the Imperials, it rebuffed the Golden Horde, it rebuffed the Seiteru pirates.
But the Ulu Khanate brought fire and brimstone, and it could not rebuff them. Their terrible new weapons roared and belched flame and smoke and the walls of Djekare Shennai shuddered, shook, and fell. How many thousands of elves fell with them? How many more fell to the rapacious horde that followed? Three hundred thousand goblins rode upon that ancient citadel. When they rested, it was nothing but a smoldering ruin, a legend reduced to dust.
And from the ashes of the battlefield, a group of survivors pulled themselves together and made for the harsh and unforgiving desert, following in the wake of the advancing horde, determined to overtake it and warn their countrymen in Thebes.