The history of Elyria is marked by events of great significance. These events are the harbingers of the ages, of which there are presently four. The first three ages are in the past. The 4th age is the present age when player families are on the ascension. It is the time of the Dance of Dynasties where bloodlines will rise to prominence and fall into obscurity.

On which side of history will you fall? To whom will you link your fortunes and that of your bloodline? On what path will you set yourself? These are questions all must answer in due time. But for now, come. Relax. Set aside your worries and hear our tales. Listen to our stories of great deeds and past triumphs sweetened by the taste of bitter hardships. Let us tell you about who we are that you may decide your path in the days ahead.

We were once a hard people made from a hard land. Like stone within the earth, we were strong and unyielding. Raw and misshapen, we were crude and unbeautiful. But stone can be chiseled, and from a hard shapeless rock, given life and made beautiful.

With the patience of time, we changed and grew from something old to something new. Like words that became poetry that became song, the stone that we once were was shaped into a rose. And that rose we named Thorne and we gave it Dominion. That is where our story began.

I have lived a long time. So long, some measure my life in ages. My ancestors created the mountains. They created the rivers and the sacred places. But we do not own this land. We belong to it. And long is my memory of this place.

I remember his father, and his father's father before him. I remember the many generations of his line that came to leave their mark in this world. They swept into these lands like a wind with fire upon its breath. They called themselves Kymerion, and they rode upon the backs of great beasts they named lions. But Fateweavers is what we called them, for they pulled upon the threads of destiny and weaved them into the tapestry of our lives.

And their stories are the ones that follow, that now fill the pages of our history.

— The Oracle of Thorne

Stumbling through the darkness, I came upon a distant light. I did not believe my eyes at first, so long had I been without any light, so long had the days stretched into an endless night of wretched blackness. But the closer I drew, the larger it grew. And I was intrigued. What was this place...?

As I stepped into the temple between the marbled pillars of its entrance, I could feel the heat rippling off the stone upon the dais ahead, chasing away the chill with the darkness that had clung to my bones. Bright as the sun, I'd never seen anything brighter beneath the sky. There was something unnatural about it all, but I cared little for I craved the light. I basked in it, and it comforted me.

As I stood in its warm glow, there finally came a voice from behind, from some place I had not seen as I entered the chamber, concealed by my blinded eyes.

"Eternal is the Fire, brother," said the voice.

"And the fire is Eternal," came the unexpected echo off the walls of the empty chamber. And standing before the heat of the fire, I shivered.

What was once a Wonder of Elyria and an active temple many centuries ago has now fallen largely into disrepair and neglect. It is believed that the temple was once home to a cult dedicated to the worship of Daemon, which revered the Sunstone as a holy relic imbued with his spirit. What became of the cult remains a mystery to this day, but their disappearance has been linked to the disappearance of the relic.

Today, the Temple of the Sun stands as tribute to the past and is a shadow of its former glory. What lies within – or beneath – is the subject of a lot of local gossip, and adventurers who have traveled there have often never been heard from again. Whether that’s because of the riches they discovered or their untimely demise, nobody truly knows.

DEMONYMS

The inhabitants of Thorne identify themselves as the Thornish, and the people of Thorne are called Thornishmen. Thornish children are often called thornelings, giving deference to their heritage.

 

“Local legends spoke of a creature that looked like a lion but bore a serpent's tail. The people in the village called it the Chimera, but the mere mention of its name sparked a terror in their eyes that made me shudder. They would say no more, save for a maimed and disfigured old man who shouted at us, wide-eyed and brandishing a make-shift cane, for fear we would bring its fire upon them. And we were intrigued.

As we set off to hunt for this legendary Chimera, we packed the equipment we'd need to defend ourselves against the most fearsome of beasts. I was accompanied by a score of men, among whom I counted Brave Radovid the veteran captain of the Two-Fold Wars, Huntress Mia a tracker of some renown of the most rare and exotic creatures, and the mystic Melanie in whom I placed my faith to speed our passage in the days ahead.

It was the first night that we set up camp amid the vine-covered ruins of an ancient temple when the Chimera struck. We were tired after the day's climb and caught unprepared for the nightmare that fell upon us. The Chimera moved with a supernatural speed that I never imagined possible. With its fiery breath, it engulfed our camp in a flame so hot it melted metal and stone. With its powerful limbs, it made short work of the men who accompanied me on this tale of folly, tearing them to bloodied pieces with a fury that drained all color from my sun-soaked flesh and left my hair a wispy white for the balance of my years. We meant it no harm, yet the Chimera showed no mercy.

Only a few of us survived that night. We barely got a look at the creature that inflicted such savagery so quickly, but we swore on that day never to go back to that cursed placed. Some creatures are better left to the mists of legend.”

- Chancery Vox, Naturalist & Historian, in the Year of our King 89