The New World

The journey to the new world was not an easy one. Aereth urged them to take up their ships and sail to the west. There, she promised, she would open unto them a path that would lead them to the continent of Aarandor. Until this point, the existence of such a place was all but fairy tale to the elves. No one had seen to Aarandor, and certainly no one had visited it. But trusting in the Goddess of the Sea, the elves set sail.

Though they stayed the course, heading due west, the weather had other ideas. Great winds blew the ships around, causing the sea to rise and fall in turmoil against it. The ships were tossed around on the waters, blown over, capsizing. The terrible seas swallowed up nearly three-fourths of the ships the elves set out with, and all beasts on board turned to dust. The Priests of Garwen begged for the winds to stop. And by the time they did, it was too late. The lead ship carrying the Ithiriel had vanished beneath the waves.

When the skies finally cleared, the dwindled and diminished elves saw a strip of land on the horizon. The currents lead them straight in to a safe harbor, allowing them to make landfall and take in their new surroundings. The harsh rocky shores of Aarandor were not what they had in mind when they were told they would be brought to an Immortal land.

In the 50 years since their arrival, the elves have learned very little of the land they have found themselves now living in. The Portals through Thelos have allowed them to make very direct travel to the five established cities, and really not much else.