In the most ancient days, there was no Telara, only a heap of sourcestone and an idea in the minds of the gods. Though each of these gods did their part in its creation, it was the craftiest of them who set about forging it. Though a god, Bahralt did not just imagine it into being. He was a god who used his hands, and so he built himself a forge to shape all of that sourcestone with.

As the other gods whispered their ideals into the world, Bahralt sat at his forge, molding what that world would be. Tavril helped him shape the wild woods; Thontic told him how the sea might flow; Thedeor filled his head with ideas of metal and stone; and Mariel-Taun told him how all of these things would connect with each other; but it was Bahralt whose fingers nimbly shaped them to form.

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The world layered itself up and around him, with the forge at the heart of it all. His assistants, creatures of spirit that would later become the dwarven people, carried his works out to the far reaches of the world as its edges got too far away for him to reach.

Finally, Telara was done, but the forge remained, nestled at the heart of the world with a belly full of sourcestone that Bahralt hadn’t used. This sourcestone continued to churn, creeping up through the cracks of the world. The sourcewells are believed to be places where that power escapes, cooked deep below by Bahralt’s forge, and we have been able to harness a little bit of Bahralt’s gift to forge wonders of our own. Nothing like Bahralt could do, but we are proud of what we have done with it in the years since.