The world though young was lush and green with life. No intelligence had arisen, but nature was in balance with all the forms that had evolved. This tranquil state lasted for many eons, until one day...

Out over one of the oceans, a spark of light appeared a mile above the water. It expanded and grew, becoming a ball of grey light hanging in the sky. None of the life noticed this, and it was this lack of notice that spelled the doom of much of the native life of this world. The sphere reached one mile across when things began to change. From the equator of the slowly turn mass, a sheet of silver light grew towards the nearest shore. It descended and touched land above the high tide line. Once it touched, humanoid forms began exiting the sphere. Ten thousand being in robes to nude with every state of dress between arrived on this new world. Half of them ran towards the base of the ramp and places staffs of power in the sand and soil, locking the bridge in place.

With this completed, one of those that had stayed at the sphere stepped back into it. A minute later, massive flying machines held in the air by gasbags almost the size of the gateway came pouring through. Thousands of flyers, large and small all raced to the nearby land. They had to hurry, they had a limited fuel supply and lifting gas supply and it would not last long on a world with no industry to make what was needed. Even as these behemoths of the sky came through, vehicles began driving out onto the bridge. They too knew they had to hurry to move out of the way. Most of them had as much cargo as they carry. Their job was to reach the ground, move inland, and begin construction of the first city in this new world.

Along the edges, away from the massive wheel trucks and wagons, beings on foot began to pour through the gate in their thousands. This wave of life was not of a single race. The humans in all their variety, High Elven, Wood Elven, Dwarven, Halflings, Gnomes, The Cats, Lizards, even some type of bipedal rat. They flowed down the bridge like a river and spread out when they reached the land below. Many knew to go and assist in construction. Others went to preplanned rally points to gather with their own kind. All carried as much as they could, for they had fled their dying universe with only that.

They knew that efforts generations past had tried to stem the coming doom. The plan had only slowed it a few generations, and the darkness came, snuffing out the stars, eating the worlds beyond their own, leaving only empty oblivion in its wake. The exodus through the portal lasted one year, then the tide of life dwindled, soon halting as the last of the survivors had made the crossing. Other races had decided to take a different route and the gate had sent them to a world of their choosing. Only one accident marred the crossing. A brief shift in the energy when a portal staff was disturbed, sent one line of several hundred thousand off in a different direction. The staff was righted and things returned to the way they belonged.

The story of the lost ones was told for generations, but over time was lost to myth, then only told in stories in the old books of the exodus. This lost tribe landed on a world also rich with life, but far more dangerous to live on. The gravity was heavier, the air thicker, the days longer, and the parent star older and orange-tinted in color. Generations came and went, a civilization rose and spread, soon covered the world that came to be called Gardallen with vast cities of life and power. Paradise is a fleeting thing though as they found out. For the evil that had chased their ancestors had found them. The war severed the lines of power from Gardallen, killing the cities, and much of the life. The survivors led a hard life, but soon began to grow and expand once more.