Founded on ancient platinum veins, which still run in the deeps below the city, Caldor has come to dominate its rugged mountainous surroundings.
Its distinctive outer wall was made in an era where races large and small were more inclined to work together and for the greater good of society as a whole. A similar cohesive-build style is also found on the Breakwall which later gave name to the city of Shieldbreak which grew in its shadow.
Gone are the days where stone flowed like water down from quarries to hands of Giants, while industry, tools, skills, and designs conceived of the greatest of the races bound by common cause, collaborated, labored and delivered.
So it was that a line was drawn, between what was 'ours' and 'us' and what was not. And the Bleak was not of you or me, us or them, it had no place in these lands. Under the breath of such a promise were the founding stones of Caldor laid, a city to be, of hope, of security.
And in time, as riches, now guarded, flowed down those rugged slopes, the city blossomed, filled, and became an economic and military powerhouse as well as a hub of innovation and trade.
But woe, though the lands had been tamed, differences lead to disagreements and eventually a great dispersion which saw peoples and tribes tend to find their own, carve out their own niches in the world.
The Giants went west and east, the goliath tribes in the mountain ranges near Saellestor are said to be remnants of their people. Elves departed stone for wood, sea, and plain. Dwarves delved the deeps as they were want to do, and gradually grew strongholds of hill, summit, and fissure.
And so those folks who remained gradually tilled and tamed the lands, pressing back beasts and monsters, raising young and growing fat. Although hardship and occasional wars came and went; the wilt, wane, and corruption of the Bleak never touched these lands. It became something that was somewhere else. Something beyond the wall, beyond concern, but not entirely forgotten.
