Over a thousand years, history can be lost. The story-tellers grow old and die. Sadly their stories often die with them. One such story-teller would spread word of an entire race of people that held the power to control elements of nature. This power was known as "magic". He called these people the "Shadonian Mages". He learned the story from his mother. She, in turn, had learned the story from her stepfather. No one can remember where he learned it from.

"This race of beings," the story-teller would rant, "studied the fibers of our world! They could weave a spell of love and desire to make even the most rigid man fall deeply in love for the most undesirable of the ladies. Or they could bring down the lights from the heavens like a swift storm and strike a man or beast into cinders in seconds!"

Once the story-teller had everyone's attention, he would start in on a tale of chaos and heroism. Each time he told the tale it would be a little different but it was always the same story with the same characters.

He would first talk about Phonovan, the most talented of the Shads. He would then tell about Aphillia and her lust for power. "She was Phonovan's best student. Some thought she had learned more than her teacher!" the story-teller would rant. "She hungered to learn more, at all costs right or wrong."

The story-teller spoke, "One night she drew upon her power and cast a spell so strong it carved a pathway from our own world into another. This place was purely evil. Aphillia passed through this portal and took control over the evil on that side. She began to send her menions back to our world purely for the delight of destruction. She finally became bored with her new world and plotted to take control over our's with her army of evil."

The people would listen. They simply could not imagine such a race of people. They would feel fear at the thought of Aphillia's wrath. Then the story-teller would finish, "The Shadonian Mages easily defeated Aphillia's smaller monsters but they were becoming more and more difficult to kill. Finally, in one last act of desperation, the Mage Phonovan had his own being turned into pure energy. This energy was cast into three crystals. The first crystal was pure emerald. It held Phonovan's mind. All of his knowledge was there within the shimmering green rock. The second stone was a blood red ruby. This stone held all of Phonovan's emotions. His dignity, pride, honor, love and ethics flowed within the second rock. The third crystal, a deep blue Sapphire, contained Phonovan's eternal soul. These crystals were then placed into a single rod. All of the Shadonians gathered around the portal to Aphillia's world. They combined their power to close the portal. Then they used the Rod of Phonovan to seal that portal close and trap Aphillia on her side."

First the audience would be relieved. Then a few of them would speak up, "are we supposed to believe this?!" The story-teller would then prove himself, "Look for yourselves! Follow the path east of Talibah into the woods. There you will find a large rock with a rod protruding. In this rod you will find three stones. This is the Rod of Phonovan!"

Someone would always ask, "But why has no one stolen such valuable stones?" The story-teller would explain, "Only the hand of a Shadonian can touch this rod. No other race has the strength to let such power flow in their veins."

Now, after so many years, no one tells this story anymore. A few elements remain. The rod is still in the stone. No one dares to steal the rod as it is property of King Ormad, the ruler of Talibah. A few have tried. What is left of them after they attempt to touch the rod isn't enough to feed a small scavenger. The people of Talibah believe that a king long before the time of Ormad had his black mages cast a spell to protect the stones. They know that only pure blood royalty can touch the rod. They know nothing of Phonovan or Aphillia. They know nothing of A Past Forgotten.

This is how our story begins. If you desire to know the rest you'll have to play the game.