In times long forgotten, this world was ruled by the immortal elves. The Nightelves were blessed with intelligence, prophecy and an unending curiosity. The Sunelves were gifted strength, martial prowess and ferocity. They lived in harmony for many eons, depending on each other. The Nightelves had received a revelation of their doom and researched to stop it while the Sunelves made sure they could work undisturbed.
It wasn’t long until other races emerged. The mountain brought forth beings of stone and volcanic fire, the dwarves. From the sea came the race of explorers and adventurers, numerous and diverse they called themselves ‘human’. The children of stone kept to themselves but humans and elves gladly mingled. This union resulted in variations of elves, their diluted bloodlines causing them to be somewhat weaker than their ancestors. There were Darkelves and Lightelves who in turn birthed Woodelves and Seaelves.
But that was long ago and after a plague had wiped out the original elves, time had started to blur the facts of that era. And so the studious, peace loving Nightelves became sinister and conniving creatures of the dark. The devastating, stalwart Sunelves turned into malevolent healers and saints.
Let us turn our eyes to the surviving races in these more modern times; the humans have prospered and are the most numerous out of all. The dwarves have gone back underground, it is very rare to see one on the surface. The Darkelves suffer from the undeserved reputation of their forefathers and have joined the short-folk in their caverns. The Woodelves are valued as guides but still faced with distrust. Their water-dwelling siblings keep to the ocean and are rarely disturbed. Now, you would think that the Lightelves are highly respected holy men because of their affinity with healing magic but, no. They are held as slaves, forced to be the personal doctors of noble houses. Their blood is taken for its uses in alchemy, often making their lives short and miserable. But such is the life of an elf in this world.