Ilmarion

["It is said that the most beautiful sunset in the Realms

is that viewed from Havenshore, as the fiery sun disc

turns the Great Sea into an ocean of molten gold. The

fresh breeze of the sea, the gulls calling over windswept

dunes of sand and the tranquil comings and goings of an

idyllic village; such a place is not an easy one to leave

behind, but great is the yearning for adventure in a

young heart. Precisely what made the Islander hoist the

sails with but a few comrades eludes even me, but after

he crossed the borders to our lands, our beloved

Val'inthor of many glades, he often spoke of fervent

dreams that haunted him every single night.

A dark robed figure, drawing ever nearer for each sweat

soaked night and the promilse of grim deeds and opressive

tyranny. Though there was also hope in these dreams; a

vague and distant voice calling out to him, drawing his

gaze towards the east, to the Old World which he had

heard so many a story of as a young boy.

The visage called him by a name unknown to him, in a

tongue never uttered on the shores of the Great Isle

since before the time of the First King; the name was one

which would not leave the hearts of men for a thousand

years. That name was Ilmarion."]