'Ours is a world that has known many stories, legends born of deep magics that touched the earth and sky. Once, we were a simple race, a singular entity that lived and died in the cradle of our creation. We were young, foolish in our ignorance of the evils of predatory monsters and treacherous landscapes. Yet, as we grew older, wiser, the charms livened our blood, quickened our hearts, and wrote the instincts of our mind into our very bones. We grew strong, intelligent, dividing our kin into vast herds and spreading out across the world, claiming its regions as our own. The magic in those places soon became our own, its gilded light claiming us as its children, and we became the true masters of our domain. We were the Orian, the deer of Idris.'

The great realms of the Orian were at peace, noble stags content in their halls of wandering, does safe in their herds of kin and progeny. After a long century of building tension, the accords amongst their people were signed, ending the long standing grudge between forest, mountain, plain, and cavern. The heroes, near myths in their might of charms and strength, settled as kings and queens amongst their realms of the heart, content in the alliance rising from the crumbled relics of war and hate. While it would take many generations for the pain to wash away, for the suspicion to fade, the land of Idris seemed at last willing to finally begin to heal.

Yet then the stars began to fall. With the Festival of Elkmire approaching, the tears of Good Mother streaked across the sky and the herds gathered together for the first time since the sealing of their pact. In the Glenn of the Sterling Glades, with the light of the Elder trees Charms raining sparks down upon their crowns, they turned their eyes to the heavens, celebrating life and the coming of spring. It was through their eyes the light of the first came, hailing across the darkness of the eastern sky like a comet's tail, brilliant and cerulean. She, for that was what they would soon discover, struck down amongst the timbers. A being cloaked in the mysteries of countless stars; a Cerulis.

The Good Mother: He bowed before her in a cordial fold of humility as though he were humbled by the countless perfections staring back at him. She was divinity - both pure and savage - said to have created the very earth in which he wandered, the very air in which he drank through languid breaths. Through her guidance they knew mercy; by the will of sheer compassion, they witnessed benevolence. It was her gentle smile reflecting within the faces of the does; it was her ferocity that resounded in the violent clash of battering antlers. Most of all, it was her essence that spread throughout the world. She whispered: Idris.

Eidolon: "Tempt not the fool," They warned. "for fools are dangerous men catering to the hounds of desperation." He had been no different from that archaic knowledge. Greed. Gluttony. Unadulterated avarice. He knew it all too well, slept with it in a haunt of intimacy, wed it in the morn. She had promised eternal youth and power beyond mortal bounds and from her breast, he plucked the seed that would give him the world, faithful. Steadily, through the Good Mother's malignant vengeance, he began to see the truths of this world. The seed fused; his life, his mind, stolen. He wanders now nothing more than a decrepit hermit, a wise man of the wood guiding those whom would seek to repeat his errors.

Idris. A stunning reflection of Earth tossed into the wild, unpredictable seas of fantasy and magic. A vast land seemingly endless and equally as intriguing with veiled, bygone mysteries inviting and deceptively delightful offering promise to our wise adventurers. Caverns hold dark secrets, unawakened power eager to taint its unsuspecting master. Forests beckon our hungering kin. It is here that our story takes place. Roam freely among the woodlands, liberated. Flock throughout the boundless meadows, these mortal gardens captivating as they are treacherous. Be lost within the winding forests whispering with the breath of hushed winds. On Idris, nothing is deemed impossible.