Greetings, exiles. I am Lundar et'Lotharen, also known as the Moonchild. My tale is a long one, but if you wish to hear it, read on...

I was born into the sylvan clan of Ilsar'lian Ferindril, or "The Clan of the Meadow Forest," which is located on the south-western outskirts of Myrkil'shin. Both of my parents died of a rare ailment when I was very young, and I was raised for the most part by my reclusive grandfather.

Under the care of my grandfather, I lived a fairly simple life, learning to hunt and track in the woods, and learning the ways of the forest. However, when I was but 15, my grandfather too passed away, and I was taken under the care of my aunt and uncle.

My aunt and uncle were what was known as "Myrk'loth" or "Grey Sylvans," in that they associated freely with those of other races. They took me far from Ilsar'lian to their home in Town's End, a large port town located near the Capital. There, they sent me to school, and I discovered that I had an unquenchable thirst for knowledge.

For many years I studied in the universities of Town's End, learning of such things as history and geography. However, my quest for knowledge invevitably led to the unearthing of secrets that the local authorities wished to be left buried, and I soon found myself on a ship bound for the lands of exile.

Five moons later, I arrived in the town of Puddleby. It was truly a jarring experience. Beings of many different races mixed and mingled freely in this diverse settlement, seemingly getting along with each other.

Having had little contact with those not of my own race I was both fascinated and fearful, keeping mostly to myself, speaking little, if at all to these fearsome strangers. However, I realized that this was a unique opportunity to learn of a fascinating new land, and made myself at home in the local library.

After several moons of intensive studies within the library, the isles of Lok'groton were much changed. I learned later that this was due to the strange and magical Chaos Storms that swept through the lands at regular intervals.

During my studies I had learned much about the isle of Puddleby, and its strange inhabitants, and decided that I needed a profession. Having always been fascinated by the tales of mysterious mystics that my grandfather used to tell me, I decided to embark upon the path of the Mystic.

This decision would eventually lead me down a path of everlasting friendships and challenges.

Becoming a Mystic was easier said than done. I had no idea where to start, so when a kind old man named Mentus offered me to train my Mind, I gladly accepted. Several weeks later, I was surprised to see a new stream of exiles, who all wanted to become Mystics.

My first encounter with these so called "wannabes" was in a small, rat infested hut in the East Field. I quickly became friends with these men and women who walked along the same path as I.

The next day, I found myself exploring the isles, searching for clues on how to become a Mystic. My searches led to death, more often than not, but I eventually found myself in the Tanglewood. Deep within the wood, there was a meadow.

Upon the meadow were two trees, sided by side, and where the boughs of the two trees met, was a small tunnel. I entered, and found a strange woman by the name of Erenal Da'li, whom conferred a riddle to any who asked.

There were quite a few seekers, and we spent many an hour trying to beat this Erenal at her game, learning from each other's mistakes. Finally, I was able to solve Erenal's challenge; and as it turned out, I was on my way to becoming a Mystic.

The following days and moons were marked with more challenges, adventures, and friendships. This secretive profession of Mysticism had a strange way of drawing exiles together; like soldiers who had suffered the same hardships, thus were we brought together.

I inched my way along the Mystic path, and after a year of long studies and arduous challenges, I attained the status of Apprentice Mystic. Later, I helped to found a small clan, by the name of The Lodge, in which many apprentices would gather together, and in a classic symposium-panel discussion, discuss the nature of Mysticism.

Life seemed to be going pretty well, when darkness befell Puddleby. Exiles began using strange, tainted orbs dubbed "Soul Glasses" that had the power to obliterate monsters with a single touch. At first, this tool seemed a God-send. No exile would ever again have to fear facing a dangerous foe, for with the Soul Glass, even the weakest of exiles could destroy the strongest of beasts.

Gradually, however, the evil of the Soul Glass became more and more apparent. Excessive use of the Soul Glass, it seemed, increased the number of undine; tainted, undead foes. Even powerful undine such as the Greater Wraiths, whom had mercifully been rare, became commonplace.

As the evil influence of the orbs spread throughout the exiles, some even began using it on each other, while others found ways to manufacture them en mass. Soon, an even greater evil would befall Puddleby, from which some exiles would never recover.

It is a strange irony of life, that through the darkest moments of ones life, one can find everlasting friendships. I was weary of the tainted Soul Glasses, and the evil that they had brought to my new home, when I learned that the excessive use of Soul Glasses had brought about the renting of the very fabric of space. Many parts of our wonderful island were being torn apart, leaving only empty voids.

In this time of great need, I turned to the clan E'las Loth'mon Ferindril. E'las Loth'mon Ferindril was a traditional sylvan clan, formed in the image of the clans back on the mainland. I had heard of ELF before, but had never really paid much attention to it.

Now, in my greatest time of need, it seemed that the ferindril was the strength I needed. I soon became a hopeful, and I cast off my dark cloak, and revealed myself to everyone as a sylvan.

The war against Soul Glasses, and the "Void" was not going well for exiles. Though several "tears," as exiles called the rips in space, had been sealed up by courageous exiles, there were just too many tears appearing to close them all.

However, several resourceful exiles found a strange place called the Adytum. Within Adytum were two pillars, called Dialyths. Through the combined efforts of many exiles, the Dialyths were activated. Now, any exile that fell to the "Void" was sucked into Adytum.

However, even with such advances, the end was inevitable. Piece by piece, our isle was rent apart, til there was nothing left but Adytum. There, we made our final stand against the undine.

After several weeks of intense fighting, the darkness was pushed back. The exiles had triumphed against the undine. A mysterious flame, within a layer of the Adytum called Perdition cleansed exiles of all their former deeds, leaving only their profession. Together with my fellow exiles, I stepped through a gate that led back to Puddleby.

The world that I entered seemed different from what I remembered. In fact, the isle seemed larger. It seemed that the Ripture War, or "The Great Forgetting" as many now call it, had acted like a giant Chaos Storm, bringing many changes to the lands.

The greatest change and challenge that we faced, was the fact that all exiles had been cleansed of their former skills and abilities. This made defending the town against marauding beasts, a very difficult task indeed. Now, even great fighters, who could once slay Arachnoids without even sweating, were suddenly having trouble fighting giant slugs and vermine.

I continued to be a hopeful to ELF, and after about a year of being a hopeful, I was inducted into the clan as a full fledged member(woohoo!). I made many new friends, and the unstoppable band of Sylvans adventured the land together, finding and exploring many previously unexplored areas of the isle. I had found my family at last, and with the aid of ELF, I was able to continue my journey along the Mystic path.

And that is the story of how I came to these isles of exile(I told you it was long, eh?). However, this is far from the end of my story. Everyday the saga of my life goes on, and the story of my life grows a little bit longer. I have begun a journal in which I hope to chronicle the adventures that I have in the lands of exile, and I hope that you read it and enjoy it, and perhaps even learn from it.

May the peace of the forest be with you.

Lundar et'Lotharen
- Mystic of E'las Loth'mon Ferindril