It is said that cities of old were once the size of a cluster of farms.
Their people were one with the earth and growing things thereupon.
Within the nourishing arms of Solumra did the first peoples of the world gain succor.
And for a time the world knew peace and prosperity.
But then the crown of Solumra slipped from her fingers, spilling precious jewels upon mortal grounds.
A mistake, a blessing, but no one will acknowledge that it was a curse.
That of Solumra and Her unsatiable greed.
Now the green farms are gone, the forests laid bare.
And between petrified trees of Lacer and the Grumul peaks lay vast walls.
Walls set to divide.
Walls placed to remind.
Walls to inspire fear.
For the Empire has conquered even here.