In a time not so distant, yet an age lost to the echoes of despair, there existed the proud nations of LaShar. A vast continent with a menagerie of regions, each with their own grand cities. These cities, now whispered in the mourning songs of the Suzak-Mar, were once the heart of numerous kingdoms.

The great cities of LaShar were vibrant tapestries of culture, art, magic and study, where life thrived in every corner. Caravans wove a network of trade and travel, connecting the distant dots of civilization across the landscape. Those with a soldier's heart, the caravans offered a path beyond the city guards' duties. Though LaShar's history was steeped in wars and conflicts, recent centuries had been relatively peaceful, marred only by minor territorial disputes, occasional monstrous threats, and rare marauder bands. The real strife was confined to the streets of the grand cities.

As the years passed, a shadow began to creep over LaShar. It started with the disappearance of caravans from the eastern nations. What would become known as the Curse, swept Westward, leaving behind a trail of destruction – cities lost to storms, earthquakes, and beasts, or consumed by madness. It evolved, combining its horrors into new terrors.

The survivors had no choice but to retreat to Tengo, the City of Spires, their last refuge. When it became apparent Tengo would not stand much longer, the Council of Viziers was formed and tasked with finding a way to save their people at any cost. Time was against them as the Curse drew near. In a desperate bid, scouts were sent in all directions. Only one returned, with news of a land bridge to the west.

With Tengo on the brink of collapse, the Viziers made a fateful decision. The people would follow the Suzak star, entrusting their fate to this celestial guide. A brave few stayed behind to hold off the Curse, buying time for the exodus.

The journey was arduous. As they traversed the land bridge, a relentless storm broke, battering the caravans for nearly two months. Many turned back, choosing to face their end in LaShar rather than continue the uncertain trek. But guided by the brightest star, the survivors pressed on, until they glimpsed a new land.

Their arrival was marked by a final, torrential storm that swallowed the land bridge, severing their last tie to LaShar. Some believed this was the work of the Singers, or perhaps the tears of a mourning deity. To the people of the March, it was the Great Storm; to the survivors, it was the Weeping. In reverence and fear, they forsook the name LaShar, referring to it only in hushed tones or not at all. United by their ordeal, they became one – the Suzak-Mar, named for the phoenix that led them from death to a new beginning.

In The March, near Eastlyn, the Suzak-Mar found a land scarred by war and drought. They shared their knowledge of desert farming, sowing seeds from their homeland, and teaching the locals how to harness the land in such conditions. The Council of Viziers, ever strategic, quickly established trade routes, reaching as far as the feared swamps of Sodmire. In time, the Suzak-Mar became not just survivors, but stewards of the Eastern March, breathing life back into a broken land.