Within these hallowed halls, whispers swirl and collide about themselves, becoming the very air we live and breathe upon. It is this sacred air that tells of tales both begun and forsaken, of legends woven and unraveled over the eternal ebb and flow of time. It is within where dreams are laid bare, where a consequential life is not forgotten, but remembered for all of time. These are the characters that have forever changed Surreal Isle. These are the beings that have touched our own hearts and imagination beyond the capacity of any elegantly scripted novel. The struggles and conquests of these poor beasts have served in uniting our very souls, in connecting each of us together in a way that only dreamers can be aware of - and they have done this, not by showing us as we are now, but by how we wish ourselves to be. For your own enjoyment, herein lie the tales of the elite.

He came as an unknown. While the Isle lay sleeping he slipped into their midst, the residents unaware of what power would come to grip them. He was Rute, the great black force that would come to rule the Isle with an iron fist. Untamed, his eyes constantly wandering for his next meal, his next toy, Rute was an evil the Isle had never been faced with before. Taking the sandy shores of Arnicyde as his home, along with his most treasured prize of all, Falcon, he would come to be the most feared equine in the history of the Isle. Much of his actions were dedicated to keeping his Falcon to himself, as his greatest enemy Vulture would sorely find out as he lay bleeding for touching the bay roan mare. Rute founded the Mafia, collecting to him the darkest of souls on the Isle to spread havoc and terror, and giving a chance to the then background figure, Lecter. Rute is a legend, a figure who impacted the Isle so greatly that perhaps the after effects will never cease. He left the Isle as quickly as he had arrived, leaving behind him a growing Mafia and a heartbroken Falcon, who too would disappear, unable to bear a world without her Rute in it.

It is unknown who trailed in whom's footprints, only that they soon came together upon the Isle. She was Falcon, the beguiling bay roan, whose beauty was outmatched only by a formidable mind and lashing whit. She was a conquest to many a man, for it was known that she was the greatest, and perhaps sole, weakness of the undomitable Rute. For despite their twisted love that tainted them both like a cancer, both Falcon and Rute shared a bond whose ties rooted much deeper than the soul. Though the path these two legends walked often left bloodshed and destruction in its wake, their very presence sowed the seeds of intrigue and inspiration that still clutches the Isle to this day. Because of Her; the rock withstanding the storm, the fierce and defiant scarred warrior woman, the Isle has never been the same.

He is the one you will find lingering in the shadows. The one who some call the white ghost. Father of the Sins, lover of Keira, he is the Mafia Boss, the disciple of Rute himself, and he has risen above his teacher to become, some might argue, the greatest threat to ever face the Isle. He is Lecter. Ever calm, ever poised, he is the gallant gentleman, well spoken and beautifully behaved, to spend a moment in his presence is to know he is one of the greats. He has not always been so cold, so ruthless. Once he did love, and her name was Keira. But while she was away one fateful summers day, Rute decided to teach his disciple a lesson. Lecter was told to rape the newcomer Faux Pas, and from their union were born the first of the Sins, the twins Envy and Wrath. Keira knew only of his betrayal, not of the circumstances, and she was never able to forgive him. She eventually dissapeared from the Isle, leaving him heartbroken and seeking revenge. He unleashed the first full scale war upon the Isle, having his Mafia spread havoc about the place until he felt satisifed that the residents knew his true power. Only the bravest dare stand up to the great albino Lecter. He is the product of heartbreak and a cruel world, a tragic hero in some eyes, a mindless killer in others. No matter what atrocities he commits, it is hard to not find respect for the stallion. He has left his mark upon the Isle, taking the Mafia from Rute's small beginnings to the grand power it is today.

A menace, a bully, his own biggest fan, these are only some of the words that could describe the Doctor. His weapon is his biting tongue, his layer the dead forests of Raptuin. He is a constant on the Isle, a pillar of this place that has become more part of the island than an individual himself. He has not lead any great wars, but his name is well known nonetheless. He is the Doctor, the resident bully of Surreal Isle, a cunning, sarcastic stallion whose name is synonymous with fear itself. He is the one stalking the very shadows of the Island, always on the hunt for new prey or a new game. Perhaps one of the Mafia�s most important members, the Doctor wields great power among the leaders of Surreal. Perhaps he is the one to fear the most, for the Doctor holds no remorse, no sense of right and wrong. He acts for himself, and perhaps that is the most terrifying thing of all.

Some called him weak, some would even have called him spineless, but those who knew him best knew the real inner strength within his aching bones. He was the great Peacemaker, the advocate of understanding and family. He was Nehru, and he pushed for a world where lights and darks could live together peacefully, where war was unnecessary. He took the reigns of Heroth and made it the largest and most active herd on the Isle, a great force to stand up against the likes of Rute and the Doctor. He attempted to stay out of the greater politics of the Isle, offering his home as a shelter to any who needed sanctuary within his walls of safety. His mares loved him, and he protected them with his life. It could be that�s that he loved too much, for it was his love of his mares, his dedication to them, that was his end. He was broken by his own compassion, unable to love each of his girls equally they squabbled and fought, threatening his sanity. He fought until the end for his beliefs, never giving up the hope that peace would find the Isle. It was his own heart that would fail him in the end, and alone he died within the borders of his beloved Heroth, taking with him much nearly all hope of a brighter future.

Some called him weak, others stupid. His friends? They called him brave, heroic, a light in the ever encroaching darkness. He was Enchant, the Fire King, a stallion brimming with confidence and tolerance; he stood as the last hope for the Isle in a world where the dark ones sought to extinguish any hint of goodness. Alongside his faithful general and the few whom he could muster, he stood against the unstoppable army of Lecter as the last defender of Good and Hope. With his courage he protected the last stronghold of those who fought for change, leading Dramunel in the first great War. Though some would say he lost the battle, it is true that he indisputably won the war. In stepping down, he guaranteed the safety of his people by saving their lives from certain death. And though he no longer ghosts the Isle, his impact remains strong. His followers carry on in his footsteps, hoping to have even a percentage of the impact he did. Though the Mafia did not fall, he did cause them to tremble. And this, perhaps more than anything else, is his legacy. Enchant lives on as the champion of goodness and light, as the protector of hope and love. The darkness could not tame the fire of this red stallion, and to this day the name of Enchant rings as a shining beacon upon the Isle.