In the beginning there was mist, fire, wind and water. From the fire was born the earth, from the wind was born the storms and tempests, and from the water was born man.
But from the mist were born the Sorcerers.
They walked the Earth in the before time. Warping the fabric of existence with the very words they spoke. They forged weapons of power for man so that they might fight, for the Sorcerers amusement.
But the time came when the Sorcerers became bored, and began to crave more power and so chose to war upon each other for dominion over all of existence. They separated into factions; those that wished to remain as they were and be Lords over Earth and Man, those that wished to rule all, and those who believed that, should one group or individual become victorious, the Gods themselves would battle and the universe itself would fall.
After 100,000 years of war the Earth was a ravaged wasteland. Man survived only in small settlements. Spells and weapons, so powerful that millions died in the blink of an eye, had destroyed great civilisations that had grown over millennia.
Then one day there came to an a great citadel the only two Sorcerers who had survived the war. They were the two most powerful beings on Earth, so powerful in their magic that even Gods would be fearful of their power.
In the last moments of his life, the Sorcerer who represented the last of those wishing for stability, managed to trick his enemy and cast him into a steel chamber with spells so strong that none now lived that could break them. With his dying breath he cast his enemy into the deepest cavern on Earth where he would rest for all eternity and finally bring peace to the Earth.
These events occurred 70 million years ago. All the stories have been forgotten and none now live who can remember the terror of the Sorcerers.
And none live who could stop a Sorcerer should he return.