"Away to the east, far across the great waters that divide the earth there is a small mountain land called the Two Rivers.  It is peopled by farmers and peasants, hard-working folk and stubborn, but often fearful.  To the south is one of the rivers, from which Two Rivers gains its name.  The river is called by the people there the White River for the currents and rocks in it, but far to the east of Two Rivers, men still call it by its rightful name.  Manetherendrelle.  In the Old Tongue, Waters of the Mountain Home.  Sparkling waters once coursed through a land of bravery and beauty.  Two thousand years ago Manetherendrelle flowed by the walls of a mountain city that artisans from the four corners of the earth came to stare in wonder.  Farms and villages covered this region, and that which is now known as the Forest of Shadows, as well, and beyond.  But all those folk thought of themselves as the people of the Mountain Home, the people of Manetheren.
"Their King was Aemom al Caar al Thorin, Aemon son of Caar son of Thorin, and Eldrene ay Ellan ay Carlan was his Queen.  Aemon, a man so fearless that the greatest compliment for courage any could give, even among his enemies was to say that a man had Aemon's heart.  Eldrene, so beautiful that it was said the flowers bloomed to make her smile.  Bravery and beauty and wisdom and a love that death could not sunder.  Weep, if you have a heart, for the loss of them, for the loss even of their memory.  Weep for the loss of their blood.

"For nearly two centuries wars had ravaged the length and the breadth of the world, and wherever battles raged, the Red Eagle of Manetheren was in the forefront.  The men of Manetheren were a thorn to the foot of the unjust and a bramble in the hand of the unrighteous.  Sing of Manetheren, that would never bend knee to evil.  Sing of Manetheren, the sword that could never be broken.
"They were far away, the men of Manetheren, on the Field of Bekkar, called the Field of Blood, when the news came that a dark army was moving against their home.  Too far to do else but wait to hear of their land's death, for the forces of evil meant to make an end of them.  Kill the mighty oak by hacking away its roots.  Too far to do else but mourn.  But they were the men of the Mountain Home.
"Without hesitation, without thought of the distance they must travel, they marched from the very field of victory, still covered in dust and sweat and blood.  Day and night they marched, for they had seen the horror the dark armies left behind them, and no man of them could sleep while such a danger threatened Manetheren.  They moved as if their feet had wings, marching further and faster than friends hoped or enemies feared they could.  At any other day the march alone would have inspired songs.  When the dark armies swooped down on the lands of Manetheren, the men of the Mountain Home stood before it, with their back to the Tarendrelle.