In a land before time, when the skies were a deep shade of indigo, and the oceans were filled with glittering sapphires, the Ancient Ones roamed the earth. They were a mystical bunch, with powers beyond mortal comprehension.
There was Zorvath, the Great Architect of the Spires of the Ancients. He built the towering structures that pierced the sky and defied gravity. His creations were a marvel to behold, a testament to his ingenuity and cunning.
Next to Zorvath was Xylara, the Weaver of the Tapestry of Fate. She wove the very fabric of reality, creating threads of destiny that bound the world together. Her loom was said to be able to spin the very fabric of space and time.
And then there was Thorne, the Bard of the Forgotten Arts. He was a master of the forgotten melodies, a poet of the unseen, and a singer of the unheard-of. His songs were said to move the very mountains, and his words were said to heal the wounded heart.
These three, along with a handful of others, formed the Council of the Ancient Ones. They governed the land with wisdom, and their decisions shaped the course of history. But as time went by, their powers began to wane, and their world began to crumble.
Now, their stories are told and retold in hushed tones, around campfires, in dimly lit taverns, and in forgotten corners of the world.