It happened in the old ages. Long before I was a hatchling. They called themselves The Pure Ones. They led a crusade against us, their aim to take control of all the owl kingdoms. The Pure Ones methads were harsh and unyielding. What they didn't take they burned to the ground. Those they couldn't enslave they destroyed.

Owls. The noblest of all birds suddenly found themselves humbled, and soon, in despair. Those who surrendered became forever earthbound. All would have been lost to The Pure Ones but for a different band of owls, who rose from the mists of the Sea of Hoolemere, and from The Great Tree itself. A group of warriors selfless, and courageous, to once more sworn an oath to make strong the weak, to mend the broken, to vanquish evil. The Guardians of Ga'hoole.

They followed their leader, Lyze of Kiel to meet the Pure Ones and their leader, Metalbeak, in a great and final battle. The Battle of the Ice Claws. Both sides fought fiercely. Metalbeak's forces were greater in number and The Pure Ones seemed to gain the advantage. As the battle grew vesper, the guardians' eyes all turned to Lyze of Kiel.

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