Long ago, magic was different than it is today. Before the great races of today, before the gods people worship in this age; before even the sundering that broke the continents. It was an altogether different world.
The magic we use today is a cheap imitation. We pass down spells, but few have the capacity to craft their own. Those who know the ancient language of magic today know it only academically, while stories tell of ancient magicians who spoke it as an everyday tongue.
More than this, ancient magic was -- is -- a bottomless well of complexity, if one will embrace it. The magical elements we know today are merely convenient simplifications; the ancients used them when they were suitable, but they were far from sacred building blocks to the ancients. Everything was wet clay in their hands.
It is the love and pursuit of magic that drew me to the Order, and it is the very same that kept me in it. My membership in the Order has enabled me not only to access some of this long lost lore, but to unearth some myself, and to earn the distinction of magistrate.
We are as cautious as we are secretive. Nothing we rediscover is allowed to return to obscurity. We have many abodes, each with their own library, and each stores a copy of every discovery. No matter what force assaults this place, our Order will not be set back.
Yet I won't abandon it. Most of the others happily evacuated. They've researched in many sites before, and will research in many others. But I have known no other site. My entire journey into the past took place here, and I won't be driven from my home. Some others like me chose to stay. Of those who left, some understood our position, and have created magical servants to help us defend this place.
The enemy approaches. We will fight and defend this place. Come what may, we will defend it.