I’m going to tell you the greatest tale of Faerun, and how the world of Abeir-Toril entered a New Age. My name is Vistra Alarazhad formerly of Calimshan, and I write this to you and all generations from the library of Candlekeep. Let it be known that I knew these heroes as friends, and that it is in their memory that all should know the truth of their deeds.
This is the story of how Sirron Vel, Morgrim Ironhide, Nymeria Norathem, and their allies along the way fought vigilantly for the freedom of our world. Between the pages, I’ll describe their struggles from they day their journeys began on the western frontiers of Faerun. From there, they’ll travel all of the wildest lands of our realms, from the heights of The Greypeaks, to the scorched deserts of Calimshan, eastward to the hallowed barrens of Thay, and even across the oceans to Returned Abeir.
As it is known, these heroes fought all manner of beasts and tyrants. From most sinister Dragons of this world, to the evil cults that in those old days plagued the lands, to the dreaded undead hordes of the Shadowfell and beyond. In those old days, brave Sirron and his friends stood against all of the greatest forces of oppression, saw many wars, and met many great leaders and evils.
But why this tome? Why should this story be believed, over all the tall tales and bardic songs? Why should this stand as a true history of these events, in the sea of legends and fables?
Because I traveled alongside these heroes as they journeyed to The Tomb of the Astronomer. I have traveled to the Grandfather Tree and learned from Provost Cenador the songs of the Convening of the Council. Mage Royals Leucis and Kethember have both visited me to recount the tales, and yes, I even studied with Curuvar the Brazen here at Candlekeep.
Above all, I know this tale, for it is my own. I may not have put the spear in the chest of Kiaphraxias, Scourge of the High Moor. I did not seize the Kraken’s Tear on it’s voyage to Skelkor. I did not raise my hand toward Morgrim Hellmantle, Wearer of Purple, and bathe him in the searing light of Kelemvor’s Justice. And I was not the one who gave my life so that Returned Abeir could be free. But I was there, every moment. I knew these heroes.
And I loved them. This is their story.
Candlekeep, 1551 DR