Creation Myths
The Birth of Oranth
Before the birth of Oranth, there were the Gods. They ruled the primordial powers that shaped the universe, creating and destroying as they saw fit. In one of her infinite thoughts of wisdom, Ehlonna created Oranth, a cold, rocky shell soaring blindly through the darkness of nothingness. Asmodeus, with his lust for Ehlonna’s eternal beauty, sought her as a prize to sit beside him on his thrown. He knew that his raw strength was not going to be enough to win her heart so instead he decided show her the life giving power of the Ten Hells. He took one of the circles and tore it from the many layers of Hell molding into a fiery ball which he then gave as a gift to Ehlonna to warm her newest creation. With the light and the heat, she could continue her work growing life out of the nothingness crafting large and beautiful sprawling forests.
Pelor’s all seeing judgment saw what Ehlonna was doing and found favor with it. He lent his own hand to further her work creating the first forms of sentient life on this newly created world. He gave them to her and called them the Ehloves. This would later be changed as language evolved through history and these creatures soon became known as the Elves. The Elves grew with time, taming the land and spreading through the great forest which they came to know as the Elion Eladi or the Great Life Giver. They spread from the Western shores of the Southern continent all the way to the mountain range to the East. Trade routes grew and civilization started to form around strong points of magic.
Ehlonna was enthralled at this creation and pledged herself to Pelor for his creation. Veccna, seeing these vows made, saw fit to make Asmodeus privy to their decision. Enraged at the loss of his prize, he made his way to this newly created wealth of life. In his jealousy he grabbed the very stars that hung in the sky and flung them at the creation that Pelor made. Fire rained down from the sky crashing into the land shattering the mainland in some parts and splitting the surface in others. It singed away the the forests, razing the world to nothing where it touched. Ehlonna screamed out in terror of the atrocity that she saw and ran to hide from Asmodeus’s rage. It took Pelor’s intervention to stop this rampant destruction. He begged for Asmodeus to stop claiming that if there was truly any love for Ehlonna in his heart, he would allow what was left to overcome the damage that was done. He used what small amount of good was a part of him from the beginning of time to snuff out the flames, but the magic was great that it warped the creatures that lived in the forests entwining them with the very hatred and power of the Nine Hells. It is said that Hellhounds are a living reminder of the catastrophe that took place that day.
The Creation of the Races
(As proclaimed by the Elven nation of Falvindar)
It is believed that before the Great Races were created, the land was covered in a lush forest. Of all the trees in this forest that covered the world, one stood above other both in stature and importance. The Elves calls this tree Laisiante or the Life Giver. They believe that all other plant life in the world is connected to the same root system that comes from this tree. As the Life Giver grew larger and swollen with the magic in the land it started to bear fruit. The Gods partook of this fruit as it was sweet beyond comprehension flinging the seeds back to Oranth where they would shrivel and die. Ehlonna saw the spark that lie within the seeds and plucked a handful from the fruit, planting them in the ground. She nurtured it day and night waiting for it to break the soil. As the earth broke, forms stepped forth with great beauty but all were hollow. Ehlonna saw them and found them ready to receive life so she breathed her breath into them creating the first race known as Elves.
The Elves claim that all races sprung from this tree in such a manner. Because of the connection to this tree if it is ever to suffer so does all life on Oranth suffer with it. The Elves saw this and swore to Ehlonna they would guard it from harm forever. Once every 100 years they make an offering of life to the tree which is then used to aid and protect it over the coming century. This process is done by walking through a labyrinth of caves to come out into a deep bowl where the tree rests. The group is usually the purest child of the elves and one guard from each house of the Elves. The guards must make certain she finds her way to the tree. If she does not make it, the next 100 years become rife with problems, but if she does, she presses a seed into the bark of the tree which then draws her into it as well where she undergoes a change. After a gestation period she then steps out a Dryad connected to that tree for the rest of her life never again to leave. The sacrifice is made to protect and ensure all life on Oranth.
The Creation of the Dwarves
(As proclaimed by the dwellers of Bronzebottom)
It is told that Demothoin sat in the great mead hall Grigarach listening to the drunken boasts of Gruumsh as he claimed that there was nothing stronger in the universe than he. “Bring me the sturdiest thing known and I will snap it with but a gesture” he cried. “I will give any here my weight in gold should they find something that can stand against me and not break.” Demothoin with his lust for gold finished his draught and set off into the mountains of Oranth searching for any such material that would do to end his boasts. He found mineral after mineral all of which he brought to Gruumsh all of which he quickly shattered. As time moved on, he dug down to the core of Oranth. It was there he found a material so dense, even his pick could not scathe it. He returned to Gruumsh asking for him to gift upon him a pick sharper and stronger than ever had been seen before claiming that he could not bring him this new material if he could not retrieve it. Begrudgingly he provided because his curiosity grew and overtook him.
With this new found tool, Demothoin returned to the mine and pulled the material from the center of Oranth and brought it back to the base of the mountain where he began to toil carving out broad forms. He imbued these with his own strength and passion as he created them. However, waiting proved to be too much for Gruumsh who went to investigate why it was taking so long for him to retrieve this material. When he found that his gift was being used for creation and not destruction, he took what remained of the material and hid it away while Demothoin was not watching. When Demothoin finished his creation, he brought them to Gruumsh and claimed that he could not break them. Repeatedly he tried bending and twisting, putting them in the harshest of environments. No matter what he tried, he was not able to break these creatures. Gruumsh asked what Demothoin called such a creation to which he responded Dwarves. Gruumsh scoffed angrily and gave him his gold claiming that he may have made a mockery of his powers but it would be the last time. He then let him know he had hidden the raw material away where it would never be found. Demothoin left his new creation and began searching for the material which had been taken from him.
The Dwarves returned to the mountains from which they were forged. Because Demothoin poured his passion into them, they reflect his hunger for gold digging deep into the earth further and harder than any other race as they were made to be stronger and sturdier and capable of carrying the burden of work that no other race had the skill nor the temperament to endure. To this day they have a strong connection to their mountain homes claiming to be able to speak to the stone since they were once made of the same material. They say the mountain sings with the sounds of their picks striking the rocks and if you listen closely, you can hear Demothoin’s own pick echoing in the distance looking for the substance that was stolen from him.
Stories Heard Around the World
The Creation of Mount Fyr
Newly unearthed material from the libraries of Camorr tell tale of a group of adventurers who raided the sacred and hidden secrets of Veccna. Their findings were of serious consequence to the world of magic. For years the wildness of fire was untamable. Many powerful wizards could not bring the dancing flame into their control even more thought it was impossible and refused to try but these four heroic adventurers managed to find the secret and steal away from the Gods themselves. Veccna could not abide by their slight and sought to destroy them. He sent several different parties to deal with these adventurers but could not overcome the group’s strength. Eventually one of the party members fell to Veccna’s acolytes, a Wood Elf who from the sifting sands of the east who was claimed to have issues with his father. Even with a loss of a party member, the group continued to be a thorn in the God’s side.
After many years of what seemed like thwarting Veccna’s plans, it was found out that with each encounter, the acolytes had been collecting things based on their leader’s commands. These elements were brought together by the head acolyte on the spot where Mount Fyr stands today. With such powerful magic being handled at one spot, the land itself started to warp and bend to its will. The flat land began jutting into the air growing every higher until it had managed to dwarf all other mountains of the world in size. The adventurers fought to reach the spot where the ritual was taking place in hopes of stopping it but they were not fast enough and a creation of nightmarish size and strength was created. After its creation Veccna himself came down atop the mountain and sounded a great horn that brought life into the beast. As it began writhing and destroying the land before it, Veccna broke the horn into three separate pieces and hurled them across the land before disappearing. A heated battle then ensued between this creation called the Tarrasque and the group of adventurers. Many of the group were swallowed whole but, with the power and control of great magic, one of the members brought down the very stars atop the Tarrasque felling it in its spot. When Veccna saw what happened, he flung half the party into different dimensions and admitted his defeat.
The adventurers then set forth on finding their lost travel companions leaving behind them in their wake a great mountain and the corpse of the terrible beast. This beast never appeared to decay and it brought fear to all those that set eyes upon it. Over time tales of it spread and the mountain in the area became known a Mount Fyr, an old Halfling word for terror.
The Devil of Camorr
This is a wild new tale to have sprung up within the high stone walls of Camorr. Only recently do people speak of the horror that walks the streets of the cities darkest alleyways. After a string of disappearances and fires ran through the city, a culprit was finally brought to justice. A woman by the name of Widow Midge. She was sentenced to hang for her crimes in the town square, but as she was dropped to swing her last dance, the very pits of the Nine Hells opened letting one of it’s horrid, twisted fiends free. It took no pity on the woman but declared that it would be waiting for all those in the city it saw fit to hunt down. This demon then hurled fire into the crowd before running down the side streets. The fear of this recent beast has been quite rampant among the people. Several took to the streets to hunt down any they claimed to be in leagues with the creature which led to several Aasimar being struck down in the streets. Clerics were brought to the spot to inspect the issue while the city guard, what little could be spared, tried to calm the ire of the people to insure safety to those that were being persecuted. The clerics claimed it was nothing more than an illusion, but many claim otherwise. It is not uncommon to find a body wracked with savage marks dumped in the streets with a mark of the Devil of Camorr close by. Many now are afraid to go out at night, instead telling the stories of this devil around hearth fires and in pubs. Nobody who has run into the creature has lived to tell the tale. Only their desecrated remains may do that for them along with the devil’s mark.
The Grey Wanderer, a Ghost story from Anarya
Many years ago, after the Great Race War had finally ended, one bigoted Elf from Verosttuul refused endure the peace that was sweeping the land. For several hundred years he fought against those that would try to make settlements, wiping them out completely until combined forces set up what would later be called Anarya. This is history and it is known. This elf however was never caught. He fought his guerilla war until one day, the fighting stopped. People never saw him again, but those that stayed and kept watch for him told stories of other things they saw out in the mist just barely at the edge of the forests. Two pinpricks of light always watching. Many claim that you don’t want to see more than these pinpricks for if you ever see anything more, you become marked for death. Some claim to have done battle with this creature and barely have escaped with their lives. Many claim it to be the Elf from long ago whose name was lost to time. It is a shade that walks the land in the forests near Verosttuul and Anarya. It’s visage is different from ghosts that others have claimed to see as it radiates a sickly grey color giving it its name. Those it touches bare its mark upon them and those with its mark know they are not long for this world. Tales of the Grey Wanderer are told to children to keep them from wandering too far out into the forests when they are young. Many believe it to be nothing more than a child’s tale warping history at it’s whim, though some walking the roads of the forest would argue it is more real than any horror they have ever encountered while others are simply never seen again.
The Warrior Tree of Kyaht
Outside the city of Kyaht rests a great oak tree formed into the shape of a man. It was planted by Obad-Hai himself to honor Nat Adler a slave of the city who sought the equality of mankind. Because of his sacrifice to save the disenfranchised during the Horse Games, this tree became a holy spot for those that are still downtrodden. They make an offering to the tree and beg for the strength to keep going. If the offering is found worthy and the request is pure, they will find their prayers answered. It is said that the spirit of Nat Adler is still bound to this tree and will watch over any who he finds truly without hope. Some have even claimed that when they’ve come to the tree to make their offering they have found an old man tending to the needs of the tree giving out sage advice and sharing what he can with them before vanishing from site. They claim this elderly man to be the spiritual manifestation is Nat Adler seeking to help those that can no longer help themselves. Several claim to have seen him and the spirit has taken on symbolism of good luck to those that see it. It has become known as the spirit of Ol’ Nat.
The Vorlochian Archives
The Vorlochian Archives gets their name from the desert they are buried within. A small pocket dimension in Vecna’s realm, this used to be the expansive domain of a powerful and terrifying primordial being of nature whose realm in its original state was twisted, thick jungle that. It’s essence grew and broke the barrier that contained it stealing away into smaller realms before engulfing them in its mass.
As the Gods attempted to overtake their primordial predecessors, the task of defeating Vorlock fell to Vecna. Instead of face the being in combat, which had led to every other creature and their armies being swallowed, Vecna devised a plan of locking the realm in an impenetrable bubble. Once enacted, the primordial laughed calling for revenge the moment Vecna let his guard down, but the dead do not sleep and so his guard never slipped.
Vorlock withered away to madness, his lush jungle domain reflecting his sickened mental state. As the forests died away, Vecna tightened his grip, shrinking Vorlock prison. Eventually the forest faded away into nothing and Vorlock himself became catatonic, alive, but broken. A wave of searing hot sands now covered the once chaotic life that grew unabated. Vecna watched Vorlock break and only when he knew Vorlock was beyond saving did he open the now desert wasteland to claim his prize.
With searingly powerful magic, Vecna carved away at the fallen titan using its carapace to house his most sacred items of hidden knowledge. But time would eventually claim the titan, burying it within the sands of the forgotten realm, lost to all except Vecna leaving only whispers of the Vorlochian Archives behind in legend.