The Etins were the world's caretakers long before the rise of humans. They drew down the purity of the solar rays and breathed life into the earth. The Etins built up the lands that the Singers of the Elder beings had abandoned. The Etins shamans, through their magic, could remember being sung into existence. That soundless tune reverberated in their souls, guiding the magics and taking them into unseen worlds.
For countless millennia, the earth was in harmony with its surroundings, joining in the song of the universe. But the shamans grew arrogant and delved deeper and farther into the unseen than they should have. They became aware of the Elder Beings with their powers and became tainted. Through this corruption of song changed, and a slick blackness polluted the shaman's magic. Unknown to the Etins, their Shaman's souls became twisted and dark.
The peace bonds broke, and the purity of the world died. The Etins, in their innocence, figured out what was happening too late. Enraged at this betrayal, the Etins hunted down and charged at the shamans. But the tainted shamans, their voices warped into instruments of dark power, sang a song of binding, anchoring the Etins’ colossal forms to the earth itself. Believing this had killed off the Etins, the Shamans left these lands for some unseen dark purpose.
Over the millennium, the earth slowly swallowed their giant forms. The Etins, entombed beneath layers of soil and stone, became the very foundations of the land. Forests grew upon their sleeping forms, and hills rose and fell over their vast, unmoving limbs. Though imprisoned, their consciousness remained a silent vigil. They felt the pitter-patter of countless generations, the building of homes and villages upon the lush green hills that were once their bodies. And things stayed like that for a long time. Until a treasure of old manuscripts was found. Inside were songs so old that no one knew them, but the melodies quickly spread among the tribes of man. They were great songs and tales of love and adventure but they always carried a sense of sorrow with them. The ancient notes stirred the souls of the tins.
The people's songs made their way through the rock and stone and into the ears of the Etins. These forgotten melodies resonated with the very core of the Etins' being and stirred their slumbering souls. A slow, agonizing awakening began. They began to slowly break their bonds as they pushed back out of the ground. The houses fell; tree roots cracked as the ground shook and rose.
The villagers, witnessing the impossible, recoiled in terror as the colossal figures emerged, their eyes like ancient stars gazing down upon them. This defining moment in the universe was so unexpected it caused fate to hold its breath. As its weavers were forced to restring their looms of time, at this great re-setting of the currents of the universe.
Softly, the minstrels started a song, a new song, one divined in through the songs of old and out through the minds of man. They slowly played louder and faster, filling the world with an undefinable new sense of wonder. And the weavers cried as they worked their magic. The power worked its way through the people of man and bled into the hearts of the Etins.
At that moment, a new bond was forged. Humans and Etins, ancient and new, their hearts sang together, on that day, a lasting peace was born, a bridge built between the past and the future.
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