Legend Of The Elf King
In a time long past before humanity reigned supreme over the earth and sea there was the age of darkness, at the time the world was a place where all manner of Fae thrived; ruled over by the most divine of all creatures borne by the earth, the Elves of Bethmoora. King Balor the one armed Elf, beloved of his people, led his kingdom to greatness, uniting both mortal man and Fae to coexist in harmony. All was well and peace reigned over the Earth for hundreds of years, but as time passed man grew more and more discontent, for mortal man was created with a hole in his heart, a hole that no possession, power or knowledge could ever fill. With his infinite greed man sought to conquer new lands and waged war against the magical realm. Desperate to protect his people the king asked for the council of his advisers, the master of the goblin blacksmiths proposed to build him an army not of blood and flesh but of gold and fire, indestructible and unmatched by any man; The Golden Army. The king's son, Prince Nuada, eldest of the royal twins, begged his father to agree to the goblin blacksmith and thus the Golden army was created. A magical crown was forged that would allow those of royal blood to command the golden army if he be worthy or unchallenged.
His word unchallenged, King Balor led the golden army to war, to lay waste upon the armies of mortal man. The world was changed and once again the Earth belonged to the realm of Fae, but the golden army, unfeeling and mechanical as they were knew no remorse and slaughtered the humans like cattle, painting the golden fields with red and bringing ruin upon the innocent. The king's heart grew heavy with regret and decided to call for a truce, he divided the crown into three pieces, one for mortal man and two for himself in accordance that the humans will keep to the cities and the Fae would own the forests. This truce will be honored by their sons and the sons of their sons until the end of time but the humans were a forgetful race and soon man's greed rekindled, driving the king and his people further and further to the edge of the Earth, far away from the lands of their forefathers.
The prince angered by man's dishonor of the truce asked his father to take back the crown piece and reawaken the golden army to lay siege upon the humans who drove them from their lands, but the king refused for he could not bear witness to the slaughter of innocent lives for the sake of an empty throne and a crown of thorns. The prince shamed by his father's cowardice exiled himself from his kingdom vowing only to return when his people need him most. A thousand years passed and mortal man progressed, evolving from one civilization to another and soon the tale the Elf king and his people faded into nothing but faeryrales and folklore, forgotten and discarded like whispers in the wind.