Prequel

Prologue

     Realms are stored in gems. Like voodoo dolls, when the gem is harmed, the realm is harmed, and the story it contains cracks, causing a conflict. Therefore, to protect the beings inside a gem, they must be guarded by gods. These gods not only create the gems, and protect them from all evil harm and help each being inside to find a happy ending, but they also set the laws of the world. Most of the time these laws are delicately placed to avoid harm, and to keep everyone happy. They're flawless, and admirable, and that is why the beings look to the protectors as gods.
      That is why we admire the gods, and respect them. They keep us safe, and we, in turn, offer them our love. Like parents, they guide us to happiness, and peace, until our ends arrives and we leave our gem realms to join them in Haphensguard, a beautiful haven, for all eternity.
     Our home is called Marisgrove. It's a smaller realm, but to us it is eternal and massive. Valleys and forests and mountains all leading to a beautiful vast sea that leads to the beyond, where the white ice covers everything and where the snow comes from during the winter, in massive grey puffy clouds, and the white spreads to our home. We love it here, and we are happy.
    There are five great tribes of Marisgrove. First there is the Tribe of the Sky, who live on the tops of the mountains, in elaborate caves and tunnels. They hunt under the clouds, and watch the sea.
     The Tribe of the Valley live in the lowest points of our home. They burrow in the grown and at night their songs can echo for miles out of the massive trench in the earth.
     The Tribe of the Vast live in the fields, amongst the plains of our home, where flowers dot the green stretch.
       The Tribe of the River live in the marshes of Marisgrove. They swim in the lakes and play in the rivers, and grow strong off the land.
      Then there's our Tribe. The Tribe of the Shadows. We live amongst the thickest forests,
We stay in the shadows and hunt in the deep forests. We don't go out in the open, and we don't go near the cliffs that drop to the sea. We stay hidden high amongst the trees in huts we made from the land.
      This is where Fiasco was born.