Long long time ago, when I was a young child in front of the fire, in the cold starry desert night... I remember being told about an ancient prophecy.
It talked about our own people, the people of Ma'atar, who in those times were endangered by the shadow of phaerimm, who settled along the border of our land, hidden in the Spellgard Ruins. It talked about strangers that came from far away, whose destiny was tied to ours and about how they fought against a terrible and forbidden menace. The tribe will be decimated by powerful forces of something that couldn't be stopped and the leading people will die. Only one, the spirit and the freedom of the tribe, will survive and will lead the people of Anauroch to new glory in the path of the Gods.
But maybe I'm wrong. All this was not a prophecy but a legend, and those heroes became immortals by creating their own histories.
That's the story as it was told to me by the father of my father, and that now I will tell you, and you will tell it to your children, and the children of your children.