Long ago, this realm had another name. That was before the Elemental Chaos and the Astral Sea creaked at the barrier of this world. Sensing the ending of this realm, many fled. They fled to echoes of the region in the Feywild and the Shadowfell. Some fled to other parts of the world. Others stayed, unbelieving the words of sages who foretold the doom of the land.
Many of those who stayed died when the Elemental Chaos finally broke. For their loyalty they were burned by fire; crushed by stone; drowned in waves; bitten by frost. Those who remained lived to be enslaved by the Efreets, and witness the re-ascendance of the drow, unhindered by the permanently darkened sky.
Those who fled to the Feywild, whose descendants are known as the feyborn, were spared the ravages of the apocalypse that came to their land, but they were unprepared to face the eldritch fury of the eladrin and the feydark-dwelling formorians. Constrained to a small portion of the Feywild, existence is rationed on a pittance of resources and scavenging on the fringes of the Slaughtervale. The feyborn race against time to find a place to call home as old treaties with eladrin begin to crumble, and the shadowborn’s distrust and resentment increases with each passing day.
Those who are born in to the Shadowfell know a different pain. Bellies full and possessed of more material wealth than most could ever have known in Slaughtervale before the Great Storm, the sorrowful magic of the plane twists their minds. They are compelled to see doom, conspiracy, and loss wherever they look. The bonds with their brethren feyborn have broken down over their centuries. Each day more and more voice out loud the need for reckoning with the feyborn who they feel betrayed them for their better fates in the land of faerie.Three realms exist as one but on the verge of war. It is at this time, at this place that you must decide your own fates, and possibly the fates of those around you.