t the time of the War of the Chosen Eckra the Cruel, archmage of the peninsula Dinal in northwestern Sarvonia, wanted naught but to extend the areas of his empire. He set out with hordes of slaves, intent on taking what he saw as rightfully his. Thousands of feet, paws, hooves and claws pounded and tore the already broken landscape as Eckra and his army, the feared Dinali, crossed the Forbidden Zone. The line of people and creatures is said to have stretched for miles, as Eckra scraped his resources to form a vast attack force capable of fulfilling his dark machinations.

Rumors of Eckra's coming flew ahead of his army. Reports soon reached the white archmages Coulande in the south and Dra'va'ensle, the half-elven, in the west. Messengers raced between the two kingdoms, and it was decided to join together to combat Eckra. They marshaled their armies and headed to meet the Dinali. The armies met in the plains beneath the Shadow Lands and combined their forces. The joined army was christened Sýs'cortná'avá, two become one. They then sent out scouts to ascertain the truth behind the rumors concerning the forces of the Dinali. Just a short time later men on lathered horses thundered into the camp and told frightening tales of a massive army and dark creatures. Bolstering their men with courageous words the two white archmages led their men west to confront this terrible foe. The Sýs'cortná'avá crested a small ridge that formed a half circle along the eastern edge of the great plain. To their dismay the scouts' horror was indeed confirmed by what they saw before them. An unruly mob of orcs, men, and elves spread across the eastern edge of the plain, filling the whole of the horizon.

With a great roar of fury and fear the Dinali began rushing towards the white army in broken ranks and clots of warriors. The Sýs'cortná'avá drew ranks and awaited the coming clash of arms. The first wave was easily cut down, but soon numbers began to overwhelm them and their line started to buckle and splinter apart. Seeing the possible disaster, Coulande rode into the midst of the fray, using mundane weapons to beat off his attackers. Taking heart from the valor of their leader, the men of the white archmages shored up their weakened front. Hour after hour the intense battle raged. Heroes were made and destroyed in the course of minutes, glorious and villainous deeds uncountable occurred. The din of steel clashing on steel and the screams of the dying pervaded the bloody field. Back and forth the battle went, leaving no one the victor. As night drew near, each side attacked with renewed fury, but all to no avail. Finally night enclosed the exhausted armies, and they gradually broke away from the conflict. After a time the men were all back in their own camps, and kept watch on each other with a tense peace, enforced by the exertions of the day and the ensuing darkness.

That same night the archmage of the north, Yairok, and his troops moved close enough to survery the situation under the cover of night. The flaring of the campfires outnumbered the stars themselves. Yairok knew he had to take advantage of his surprise, as this was the best chance to defeat his opponents. His troops rushed towards the nearest encampment and engaged the sleeping army. Eckra's forces were caught completely unaware by the sudden attack. Many of his troops were slaughtered before they could even raise a weapon. Finally, a division of orcish cavalry riding wargs were able to hit the northern armies flank, breaking up some of their cohesion and giving the Dinali precious time to engage the enemy. Even with the help of the cavalry, the day's fighting had simply taken too much from the men. Thrusts and slashes that would normally have been blocked, became fatal. Just as Eckra’s troops were being driven back, the Sýs'cortná'avá attacked Yairok’s men from the rear. Even with their fatigue, the men of the white army were able to hue down those that stood before them. Soon, the northern army’s progress halted. It was at this time that Eckra unleashed a surprise on the armies. Netherbeasts, summoned from the depths of the Netherworlds were given free reign over the field of battle. Killing friend and foe alike, but devastating the foe more often. Dawn broke in a red haze, the sun shrouded by the churning of the dust filled plain. Once, a verdant and green grassland, now no longer. Once more armies locked in combat as all of the archmages threw in all of their troops. It is not known who cast the first spell, but it was the first of many that day. Red light crackled through the air, turning legions into naught but ash. Elements and powers were thrown into the midst of the encounter with little heed to their effect. Hundreds were often slain in mere moments. The ground shuddered and shook as if in the throes of death, and well it might have thought with the way it's flesh was being rent and torn by the armies battling upon it, and the magics that lanced it. Time flew away and soon night encroached once more, and the beleaguered armies separated for the night.

The third and final day of battle dawned, but it was a false light, as the very sun was hidden behind the smoke of burnt bodies and earth. Once more the armies trudged to face each other. Before they even engaged the first spells were being tossed about. Things were done that cannot even began to be described in their power and horror. In the end it is said that hardly a man was left standing, and it had come down to the power of the archmages. Everything imagined and much that cannot be were thrown at each other, until the very earth was ripped asunder beneath their feet. The raging sea poured in and engulfed the wizards, and what was left of the tattered armies. This in pouring of water created what is known as Eight Winds Bay, all that remains, of that plain of blood and death, are but three islands. All of which are fertile, some say due to the thousand who poured their life into that soil.

Till this very day, an electrical charge can be felt in the area, causing one's hairs to stand on end. In fact there is an enormous whirlpool in the middle of the bay. Some say the whirlpool was caused by the affects of the powers that were released during the battle. But, still others scoff at this notion and mark it down as simply a natural occurrence.