In the waning years of Man, the father of all his kind, there lived a certain one of his children named Vaela. Now Vaela was not a son of Man directly but through many generations, for in those days men lived much longer than they do now. Vaela was a blacksmith by trade, but a bard in his heart. He often sang and played his lute at night, musing on songs of warmth and light, even as the world grew cold. Vaela was a man of The One and oft would he seek his face. Quickly awakening, Vaela said, "Here I am. Speak, for your servant is listening." "Have you no idea the foe you face?"