The elf shrugged. "The number is unimportant, but the concept should be understood. Mana has waxed and waned. There was a time when the mana was low, too low for the true nature of the world to manifest. And in those days a tradition was handed down, a sacred trust. Dedicated individuals swore to guard a place. You would not know of this place, but I know it as Imiri ti-Versakhan, the Citadel of Remembrance. It was a place meant to make the low time safer, and it was a bastion against the return of evil should the mana return. Terrible things were kept there, locked away so they could do no harm."