For nearly one hundred years following our flight, we lived the lives we had so often dreamed of, free of persecution by the Flame Legion.
As we traveled south and built the society that would one day be called Olmakhan, we were forced to question many of the age-old norms of charr society. We were starting from nothing, and in a foreign, hostile landscape no less. To survive, there would need to be changes.
There would be no sense of superiority over the land. This was the core dictum of the Olmakhan: peace with nature, so that we might thrive beyond mere survival. Only a thorough understanding of our new environment would allow us to remain here, to build villages, farms, and families.
For nearly one hundred years we strove to achieve this ideal. It was then that nature sent us our first true test of resolve: a cataclysm beyond our northern horizon that shook the seafloor, and the Great Flood that made an archipelago of our new homeland.
In single moment, it seemed that all we'd built was lost. Many of our tribe were claimed by nature that day, but none truly despaired. Our culture had been forged in struggle and tempered by hardship, and our commitment to our Olmakhan family shone like steel in the sun once the waters receded. We rebuilt, and we thrived again.
Recent times have brought hints of a troubled, larger world that threatens to wash away our peace. First came the spread of the cruel little ones across these islands, with their stone and crystal wonders that defy gravity and their unnatural creations brought to life with unfamiliar magics.
Then came the great iron sky-whale, breathing smog and flame as it crashed into the soft sands of our shoreline. Its metal shell protects our elder council as they meet to plan our response to the threat of the Inquest, and we've begun to fortify our structures with its iron skeleton.
Nature has presented us with new challenges, and if we must adapt to survive these trials, we will.