Before Man learned arrogance, before mortal beings succumbed to the delusion that greatness could be achieved in any way besides it…magic was power. To whisper an incantation from memory, as softly unto the wind as a dying breath, was to know and dominate. For magic in its purest form was knowledge, and none knew more than the Arsenal Magus. As time passed, and Man’s vision of Truth grew ever weaker, some looked to the Magus for enlightenment. But as they gazed upon him, yearning for salvation from their ignorance, his face became obscured, as though a terrifying mask had been drawn. Man’s chance at knowledge had passed him, as the Arsenal Magus secured his grip on all magic…and all power.