You enter the ancient lands of the long forgotten terrain; many more
before you have traveled this very path. The soft clip-clop briskly echos, bouncing from the border of redwoods, as you go
along on your way. Timid as a newborn, tipped ears cling to barely audible noises, hoping to catch sight of another, perhaps
even one of the equus species. Where the used to be an abundance of populators, there are now only a mere few who cling to the
memories of the homelands; and for many, their birthplace. Ruler upon ruler, of great kings of stallions, made their mark upon
these lands of remote solitude, some more than others. When their clock came ticking its way to an end, they passed their sacared
rulings on to the next worthy young stallion, and lived the rest of their days in harmony amongst their herds. All in all, life
had always been good here, and the few who remained were determined to egnite the flame once more...

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