The Swiftwings date their history back over 500 years.
At that time, a small group of rebels broke off from their
main tribe, the Red Sand elves, after a disagreement
with the tribe's leaders. The tiny band seemed doomed,
but their stubborn sense of honor drove them on, away
from the Red Sand tribe. After seemingly endless weeks
wandering through the Aluvial Sand Wastes, the rebels
were guided to the Dragon's Bowl by a flock of birds.
There they made friends with the druid who protected the
lake. They took the name Swiftwing in honor of the birds
that had guided them.
The new tribe struck out into the Tablelands. They were soon raiding caravans along the Silver SpringAltaruk-Gulg route. The name Swiftwing began to be spoken with concern, disdain, and fear. Templars began to accompany caravans (a move almost unheard of in other cities) and all guards were doubled. It was all to no avail; the attacks continued, and revenue from the vital trade route declined still further. The nobles and merchants of Gulg grew determined that something had to be done about the Swiftwings.
A notorious mercenary band known as the Brotherhood of the Black Stone was hired and told to eradicate the Swiftwings. Posing as a poorly armed caravan, the Brotherhood awaited the elves' attack. It never came. Someone had tipped the Swiftwings off, and the Brotherhood spent weeks traipsing across the desert, growing weary and tired. Finally, as the Brotherhood was about to give up, the Swiftwings attacked. The battle was fierce, but the Brotherhood was scattered in the end. Next, the nobles engaged the services of two rival elven tribes, including the Swiftwing's nemesis, the Red Sands tribe. The combined pressure from these two tribes proved enough to convince the Swiftwings that the region was getting too hazardous. Unfortunately for the merchants of Gulg, the Red Sands elves remained in the area for some time, continuing to raid caravans.
The Swiftwings wandered for a time, raiding and fighting. At last, weighted down with booty, they arrived in Balic, where they set up an elven market outside the city walls. Like most elven markets, the Swiftwings' operation drew unwanted attention from Balic's templars. As in most elven markets, however, the templars were unable to find any evidence of wrongdoing. When the templars were away, the market offered a wealth of contraband, all guaranteed to enrage the authorities. Members of the Veiled Alliance discovered the market, and huge profits were reaped from illegal spell components and rare magical documents. As they left Balic, the Swiftwings realized that there was more to life than raiding.
Raiding and fighting continued to be a large part of the tribe's existence, but the newly discovered world of trade became more and more important as time passed. The Swiftwings treated trade with the same chaotic glee that they normally reserved for raids on caravans. Contraband, stolen items, and goods both legal and illegal were freely sold and eagerly bought by customers throughout the region.
The Swiftwings' dealings in illegal items attracted the attention of a powerful defiler named Shardas, who purchased large quantities of spell components and magical items from them. The Swiftwings agreed, after glimpsing the defiler's gold, to sell to him on credit. After a particularly large shipment, the Swiftwings waited months for Shardas to pay them. Emissaries sent to the defiler's tower in the Ringing Mountains never returned. The tribe, its honor slighted and its bloodlust enraged, entered the mountains in search of vengeance. Unfortunately, the defiler struck first. In the dark of night, Shardas's shadowy minions stole into the tent of Chief Anor and made off with his twin daughters. A simple message left on one of the young elves' pillows stated the defiler's position clearly – desist and leave the mountains, or the chief's daughters die. To all appearances, the threat worked. The Swiftwings immediately struck camp, turned around, and headed back toward the Tyr region. But, as the Brotherhood of the Black Stone had learned, little of what the Swiftwings did was as it appeared. As the bulk of the tribe crossed the mountains, a small group of elite warriors made its way deeper into the mountains, where Shardas's fortress crouched like an evil beast. Scaling the walls, they entered the fortress, avoiding Shardas's guards and confronting the defiler himself. Shardas was gravely wounded but escaped with his life, while the Swiftwings rescued his prisoners and reduced his fortress to rubble. To this day, the Swiftwings frighten their young ones by saying that Shardas still lurks in the shadows, eager to take vengeance for his humiliation.
The tribe returned to the Tyr region loaded down
with booty from Shardas's fortress. This loot was quickly
converted into gold. The elves returned to their old ways
- traveling, fighting, and trading when the mood struck
them.