The time was of the first age, and many things were yet to be discovered in the land. This land was Ribek, with all the places of adventure. There were the grasslands to the north, the mountains to the south, the sea at the east, and the forests of elves and fairies in the west. There were many isles, each one having a specific name, but sharing a bigger name, called the bridged isles, for one reason. All of these isles were connected by a series of bridges that where each a mile wide, and many miles long. There were people of all sorts, shapes, and sizes. It was a happy land. In this land, there was a dark man, who plotted to overthrow the little strands of goverment that were just starting to be made. He wished to rule over this land, but nobody knew exactly why, and very few people knew that he did, and even less actually thought it true, they thought it merely gossip.
One man that did know this was the weaver. He had been sent by the avatars, who looked down over the universe, to maintain order, and to stop this man from coming to power. He was to weave the rest of the strands of goverment into a unified whole, and thus, he would need much power. There was only one problem in this. The weaver was but a child, and he had no great skill. He needed friends, and he needed training, and he needed it soon. The man was waiting in a dark place, people said under the earth, and he was beginning to terrorize the cities, and destroy towns. There was as of yet only several newly-born goverments, and one of these fell under the man, named Gruthuk. He took this goverment, and in renaming it the thorn, drove his armies back along the coast lines, starting from the grasslands and working ever southwards, until only the forests and the northern-most mountains where inhabited by non-thorn. The weaver lived on a small island in the bridged islands, and heard about this only through the avatars, and the last thing he heard from the avatars for the rest of his days was simply; 'Theyre coming for you.'
