"Gather round, travelers, for we stand at a precipice not just of time, but of destiny. In the hallowed annals of Toril, the Third Age has stretched its weary arms for over four millennia, its breath growing shallow, its heartbeat faint. You find yourselves born into a world that has forgotten much—a world where the light of gods once dazzled the heavens, where the titans roamed as kings of creation, and where the elves sang of splendor now long departed. This is a time when the threads of...