In times long gone, the centaur people were split, the various herds living independently of one another in the verdant places of the world. Though all were guardians of the wild places, exactly what form that took differed from herd to herd and these belief systems clashied to the point that it was not uncommon for the disagreements to deepen into outright battle among the herds. Outsiders fared even worse, completely disregarded and treated with hostility.

Some rare herds took a pacifistic approach, exiling themselves and taking methods to render themselves invisible to the outside world and their troubles, such as the herd of Darkwood. Others, however, took the conflict to the outsiders, becoming war-like and scouring the wilds of all civilization with extreme prejudice. Yet a third type took a middling approach, dissuading outsiders from damaging nature and attempting to educate them in cultivation and harmony.

The centaurs believed whole-heartedly that they were the chosen of the natural world; protectors, both spiritually and physically, whose decree was final in matters of the wild. However, this proved to be their downfall as their insular conflicts soon led them to being the architects of their own decline. As their numbers dwindled, herds became smaller until they became a rarity in the realms, falling into myth and folk stories of aggressive barbarians or nature cultists with a love of drinking and human sacrifice. Something that only the Tel'quessir could refute, if only they were asked.

And then came the Long Night.

It did not take long before the rampaging hordes cornered the isolationist tribes, slaughtering them. Others managed to align themselves with likeminded herds, and as the bands began to retreat towards the north, they were able to forge yet greater alliances from the egregious necessity of impending doom. Eventually, Ashra's long unstoppable force saw the tribes thrust beyond their previous territories, through the mountains, past the dangers of Darkwood, and through the veil, where they finally found respite.

Now hardened and forged in blood and fire, the remaining herds set eyes upon a wonderous grove deep within the Kilkean forest, the likes of which no mortal had seen before. Verdant and bright, this haven welcomed them wordlessly. The land was fertile with game and flora aplenty. Indeed, though on guard for anything, the grove soon proved itself to be a magical haven, as their pursuant monsters never followed… Though the centaur scouts could travel to and fro with impunity, no others but those who held the sanctity of growth and renewal were permitted within. Any and all pathways became blocked with thriving overgrowth and protected by majestic nature spirits: Eucalia's seedlings, among others.

In time, thankful for the utopia they were offered, the herds set aside old enmities. They began to flourish once more, this time under the loving guidance of the dryad, Eucalia, the Unbound. Pledging themselves to their savior, they gave thanks to the Celestial Light. The herds, once broken and now reunited by cause, promised to cultivate and restore, to grow and renew the lands of the realms, returning those rare seeds to Eucalia's grove and restoring lost growth to its rightful place.