Chronicle of the Age of Gods
The personal journal of the Goddess Tuyom
Before there was a world, before there was light and darkness, creation and destruction, before the stars shone in the sky or the oceans rolled below, there were the brothers, Valdhar and Mogash. So alike, they were, so fair, two beings come from another cosmos who decided to ignite the spark of creation to a universe of their own.
They gathered amongst them the greatest of craftsman, beings of power who helped to forge Anrath from nothingness. Anshiruu created the stars and the sun and moon, giving her husband, Azderak, the fires he needed to forge the world itself. But a world is nothing without beings to populate it. That was when I heard the brother’s call, and came to join with them.
With my own breath I infused Azderak’s creation with the essence of life, allowing the other Gods to imbue it with their might. Solanes shaped my breath to create the plants and animals of the land, while Maecyn shaped it to form the bounties of the seas. It was then that each of the Gods began to populate the world with the races of their own design.
I watched as my breath gave form to the people’s of the land, the elves and dwarves, gnomes and halflings. And I was there when the brother’s created the race of man, the humans they intended to rule over the world.
It was then that I saw my breath corrupted, stolen by Mogash to infuse the race of man with a cruelty the other races did not have. The capacity for evil and slaughter imbued into the short lived race. It was I who spoke to Valdhar, who could not believe his brother capable of such a thing. I could feel the aspect of myself being twisted by Mogash’s power, and eventually convinced Valdhar to confront his brother.
Mogash simply laughed when confronted, and pointed to the world the brother’s had worked so hard to create. What was the point of creation without destruction, he asked. What joy could giving life be if there was not an equal joy in the taking of it? Valdhar was furious, and thus, while the races of the world were still young, the Age of the Gods entered into the Godwar, brother against brother in a fight over their own creation….
The brothers began a fierce battle across the heavens, their fury knowing no bounds. As the races of the world of Anrath were left on their own, forgotten in the mad battle between the forgers of the world. Valdhar and his brother were strong, stronger than all the other Gods, and their battle threw the cosmos into disarray. Mogash, ever the crafty one, realized that the two brothers could not defeat each other one equal terms, their powers were too equally matched, and he fled the field of battle.
Valdhar felt confident in his victory, however, not realizing that Mogash had other plans in store for the realm they had created. Mogash began to bring the war between the brothers to the other Gods, seeking to turn them against his brother and bring them to his side. He began his art of corruption on the young daughter of Azderak and Anshirru, the Goddess Aradel. Catching her alone, he warped and twisted her essence, creating the Goddess the realm knows today, a twisted and vile creature who abhors the light and hates Anshirru, seeking to bring darkness and death to her creation.
The horror that befell Aradel drove Azderak and Anshirru to Valdhar’s side, where he learned the error of his ways by believing that he had defeated his brother. Valdhar began to gather his allies, realizing that the battle between these two brothers was quickly becoming a war between all the Gods in the cosmos.
Yet, Mogash was not alone in his allies. He gathered before him other powerful entities, promising them more power and domains to control in the realm he had forged. He brought to his side Izual, and her daughter, Keiral, two goddess’ most gifted in the art of destroying my work. Kyros, a brutish titan raised to godhood by Mogash’s hand. Wrazul, the creature of shadow and lies. He gathered the cruel and malignant lesser deities, swearing that for their hand in the war he would grant them all great power, and gave to each of them the power of creation that he had stolen and twisted from myself. Each of them was gifted with the strength to create one of the hordes of monsters that plague the realm of Anrath to this day, as they began to warp and twist the creatures of the world to their own desires. And he raised an army of fiendish might, ripping open the boundaries between the realms of good and evil.
Valdhar summoned to his side the Goddess Caerwyn, whom he had longed after for many eons, and myself, whom had helped to shape his vision. Anshirru’s sisters, Maecyn and Solanes, joined her side, their wrath at what had become of their niece reflected in the chaotic storms that enveloped the land. Valdhar reached out across the cosmos to Baljat, the God of Magic, promising him dominion over the weave of magic that graced the new realm in exchange for his power. He created an angelic host to fight on his side, infusing them with holy might, promoting the angel Cryntâsh to lead them against the fiendish armies.
The alliances were made, the lines were drawn. The Godwar had begun.
The lines drawn, the Gods divided, the war began in earnest. Gods clashing against Gods, as light clashed against darkness, casting shadows where all could be. It was only natural that the war between the Gods would spill over into the realm they had created.
The hordes of Mogash used my gift, twisted and corrupt, to creature the monsters of the world, starting with the Orcs made by Mogash himself. As the monstrosities of the world began to take form, Azderak and Baljat formed a union together to create the dragons of the world. Borrowing from the weave of magic that formed Baljat’s essence, Azderak drew forth the metals of the earth and created the metallic dragons, infused with goodness and light. Chief among them, he created the Platinum Dragon, gifting a part of his own god-essence to ascend it to divinity.
With the dragons on the side of good, the armies of Mogash began to falter, until Wrazul developed a way to corrupt even the hearts of those pure beings. Corrupting the minds of the great dragons, he twisted their bodies as well, draining them of their goodness and metallic hues, and gave birth to the Chromatic Dragons to balance the scales of the war. Baljat, Lord of Magic, was aware of these distortion, but allowed it to pass in the sense of balance, earning Valdhar’s wrath in the process.
With the war tearing their creation apart, Valdhar knew that he would need something even greater to truly win. He approached the God, Ronox, a great inventor who had graced the world with the gnomes, whom he gave great and inquisitive minds. Ronox, a God who had maintained his neutrality throughout the war, looked upon the devastation occurring and decided that something must be done before all of creation was destroyed by the warring brothers. He vowed to create a weapon, with the help of the other Gods, that would place the world back into balance.
He tasked Azderak with forging a special blade for Valdhar, a sword blade forged with no hilt. The blade was fashioned from a special metal, drawn forth from the cosmos by Anshirru, a named Ruudite in her honor. In order to forge the blade, Azderak used the raw elemental fires of the core of the world.
Meanwhile, Ronox began work on a grand project, the Scales of Valdhar, as he called them. Intricate and amazing, he used all his inventiveness in the crafting of the scales, infusing them a bit with his own essence. He the two pieces were done, he presented them to Valdhar, and showed him the truth behind what he had made.
The scales and the blade, beautiful in their own right, were designed to work together, when the scales were properly attuned them could be placed upon the blade and the two would fuse, the scales becoming the hilt of the blade itself. Ronox swore that with the power of his blade, Valdhar could sever his brother’s direct connection to the realm and seal him away from the cosmos, ending the war between the two.
Ever crafty though, Ronox placed a special catch on the scales. In order to become attuned and function with the blade, the scales were required to be balanced against the order of good and evil in the universe. They required something of pure good, now turned to evil, or something of pure evil, now turned to good, to be placed upon each of the scales, the balance of which would enable the blade to work.
In this manner, Ronox sought to ensure that there would remain a balance in the world itself, and that neither the darkness nor the light would control the realm.
Meanwhile, I found myself in my own situation, when the daughter of Izual, Keiral, and I met…..
In came as a surprise one day, when a raven of the darkest night arrived within my realm, bearing a message from the daughter of Izual, the fair Keiral, asking for a meeting with me. Izual, a creature of unscrupulous evil whose very existence perverted all that I was, the essence of my being, and warped and twisted my breath upon the world we had created. Her foul creations, beings brought back into undeath, devoid of soul and life, were one of the greatest enemies to the gift of life I had granted. To receive an invite from her daughter was something I never would have expected, but I decided to accept her invitation with guarded wariness.
We met upon the fields of the Outlands, outside the fabled city of Sigil, a plane not ravaged by the Godwar, a plane still neutral. The young Keiral approached, pale of skin with raven hair, flocks of her sign around her, and told me of her heart. She saw the darkness in her mother, the perversion of the dead. She knew that this was not the way, that this twisting and dark magic was against the true tenants of death. She asked to enter into a pact, one for both of us. If I would help her to destroy her mother, she would take over her powers of death and promised to respect the gift of life that I had granted to the world, to revere death as the natural return of my gift.
I was skeptical, but she seemed sincere, and there, outside the City of Doors, we made our agreement, the first pact between life and death, between the forces of Valdhar and Mogash. A union to bring the two sides together.
But, it was not to be, for Izual always suspected her daughter, and had sent spies within her ravenkind. The Goddess of Death appeared on the planes before us, a host of her minions striking at us. I fought as best I could, but I was never the fighter, never one gifted with ending my own gifts. I was forced to flee, as the war spread to the Outlands. I remember seeing Keiral swarmed by her own ravens, her cries of despair, but it was too late. I fled, and I never saw Keiral again….