In the beginning their were no kings, only champions made of great deeds and sacrifice of valor, these few lone warriors would wildly wander the land dispensing their will and justice to all they came upon. Some were seen as good while others were feared as malevolent. The most prolific of them was the villianous Styve and the heroic Wolgamott.

Styve worked to bring the race of fay under one union. He amassed an army about himself and called himself Ras (lord), all cheered. He took under himself villages then called himself Rath (prince), all praised. He then claimed dominion over all fayweir; yet none would bow. The rulership of a king was unheard of among the wee peoples. To solidify his right to be king he would need the sanctity of a god. Rath Styve sought the brilliant blessing of the god known only as the Firefly.

The legend was that a great phoenix flew across the land in search of a place to nest. She came upon what she thought was a mighty tree to rest within its branches. It was no tree but the devil known as the Argis. It coiled its limbs around her until she was helpless. The bird was violated for what seemed to be for ages, but the limb called Mendegrath grew fond of their captive. The love struck limb planted himself deep within her and would not leave to give pleasure to the others. He coveted the great bird and made a nest for her to lay their egg, but as the egg was laid the bird caught a flame, Mendegrath was burned and the egg fell to the ground and rolled away. Hatched from this egg was the glorious being called the Firefly. Semi-immortal he ages and dies but his power is passed on to his chosen apostle.

Upon this Rath Styve was king and none opposed him except for one.

Wolgamott desired to keep the fay wild and free. He Tried to rally troops to his cause but could to himself none. All were mesmerized but the power of the blade…All were filled with the bounty of its peace. Peace for a warrior like Wolgamott was unacceptable, for the fay were a spirited race, a powerful race of might and magic.

He wished for this tradition to continue, he wished to save them from this despoiler of their ancient ways…he wished to save them from themselves. He could seek no help from their god the Firefly for he had played some part in this strange shift in faywier order. He would therefore turn to the argis devil known as Mendegrath, for surely they had mistaken one for the other.

A great monstrous thing of many branches and limbs each of a mind of its own. " I call for the one known as Mendegrath" boldly shouted Wolgamott.

A great and thunderous sound came forth that died into laughter. "There are many here among the Argis with different names, yet we are all Mendegrath," the creature whispered. "We will send down to you however the one that you seek among us."

The branches moaned, cracked and fluttered as they parted for a single limb. "I am we who pluck the Phoenix" the limb rumbled, For the first time Wolgamott felt true fear but managed to utter his request. He wished to fight his enemy king Styve and to vanquish his patron god the Firefly whom was also enemy of Mendegrath. " I am one against an army, king, and a god, how could you aid me."

It was then the Argis all collaborated a plot of many ages. Take my hand that is Mendegrath" said the Argis. Wolgamott took hold of the limb Mendegrath. Once held he could not let go.

The pain was intolerable as though his body inside was being split into many pieces.

"You shall become my apostle - the one of my way," but you shall also become my disciples, the many to spread my way. "Uttered the devil" One but many like myself you shall be…Wolgamott, High Zard of Mendegrath".