First there was Grandmother Chaos. Great and infinite and
beyond the capacity of comprehension.
Then, born from Her womb came the Oldest, bearing his Stewpot
of Fate and having no Name beyond his title. Then in a wave of light and glory
came Ssita, whose love shapes the universe. Then came Ariga, whose joys and
sorrows create the seasons. Nhoj burst forth half formed and hungry to claim
the name his siblings had uttered. And finally in the loud wake of her brother
Daras came, like the gentle whisper of an end; so distracted were her siblings she
ended up naming herself.
When Nhoj and Ssita first saw each other they fell into a
love so vast no poetry or song could hope to grasp it, so deep its roots formed
the foundation the universe. In this time before time, Ssita pulled her gaze
from her beloved and looked upon her siblings, and upon the universe beginning to
congeal around them. Then she looked upon her mother, and she shuddered.
Grandmother Chaos, as the mortals would come to call her,
hungered for creation and destruction. If an entity’s mind were to ever look
back upon the budding universe, it would not survive Grandmother’s attention.
So Ssita reached into the core of her being and tapped into the limitless love which
resided within her. With infinite care and terrible speed she formed her own
essence into a magic strong, flexible, and powerful enough to hold back the
tides of transformational power. She would act as the font for that energy. Her
will and love would take the energy of Chaos and turn into the substance of the
universe. She had become the Chaosgate of Creation. For this act her siblings
named her Queen.
During this phase, Daras and the Oldest succumbed to their
profound attraction to each other. Their coupling was like the glacier and the
wildfire, destructive, restrained, cold and yet burning, and from their cosmic
crossing came Mar, the God of Light and Law.
Though Ssita’s love and power held back the full force of
Grandmother, the Chaosgate itself remained incomplete. Though his love for her
could consume him from within, Nhoj refused to take that place. He had no
interest in rule. He sought to feed his hunger for secrets and hidden knowledge.
Kingship would just waste his time.
However the young and ambitious Mar saw the lack of a king as
a profound affront. So, without delay he began to court Ssita. She resisted his
advances out of respect for her love of Nhoj, but the needs of the universe
outweighed her desire.
So lost in his studies of the forming universe Nhoj knew
nothing of the young gods advances. Daras came to him and told him of the
foolishness of her brother and of the blind ambition of her son. At this news,
Nhoj screamed, a deep and primal howl which vibrates through the dark places
for the rest of time. Without logic or strategy the God of Knowledge hurled
himself at the God of Law. Claws, teeth, and infinite divine force strengthened
past the point of madness by the fierceness of Nhoj’s love.
The younger god was caught unaware. Great chunks were torn
from his essence and he stumbled right into his father, The Oldest. His Stewpot
spilled over and the Stew of Fate cooled and congealed into the mortal plane.
Seeing the fury in Nhoj’s eye’s Mar fled down to the new creation to close his
wounds and prepare for the next attack.
Using his spilt blood and the materials of the new plane Mar
crafted an army. The Truths of Mar were gleaming creatures of Light, Ice, and
Will. They moved forth in a terrible wave. They defined all they touched. They
bound the still warm stuff of fate into weapons and servants for Mar. They
shaped everything around them into unbreakable and terrible chains. When Nhoj
followed after, the Truths jumped up and tried to contain the full might of God
of Knowledge. The binds cut into his flesh and tore out great chunks from his
form. But there was always much Chaos in Nhoj, and this he used to slide,
twist, and warp his very essence to escape.
Nhoj retreated then, surprised and unprepared to face the
relentless nature of the Truths. He delved into the dark places, the deep
places. There he sought and looked. He delved into this strange new mortal
realm. He ran and while he ran he bled. The chunks of his flesh and bone merged
with the plane and formed, by accident, the strange maelstroms' bedlam which
became his army, The Secrets of Nhoj.
For each thing the Truths defined the Secrets tore apart, or
made irrelevant with their own wild creations. Each side fought with terrible
force, but Nhoj’s army tried a thousand tactics. They hurled themselves into
battle as a distraction for others to sneak on past.
As their armies made slow and terrible war across the face of
creation, Mar and Nhoj fought with raw force. Hurling powerful spells, the
likes of which would never be seen again, they became so lost in the fight that
at times they forgot the reasons for their mighty battle.
After shaping and tearing apart the new plane a thousand
times, the tide turned. Mar flinched at the assault and Nhoj’s Secrets sealed
away his army in what would become the Blackfire Mountains. Bound by defeat and
his own honor, Mar waited for the terms of the new King’s Victory.
Though it was meaningless to Nhoj, he asked Mar to kneel
before him and swear fealty for time eternal. For Mar would be bound by his
word. He would no more try for the Throne, and Nhoj could have both his study,
and his love.
He became the Chaosgate of Void, taking the excesses of order
and returning them to Chaos. He would rule by the side of Ssita, and it was
their love that held Grandmother at bay.
There are many echoes of the First War left in the world. It
is said that Nhoj had his servants craft a great city that served no other
point than to witness the submission of the God of Law. Some say that those
that fear the dark can still hear the reverberations of that first and terrible
scream. And in the deep and forgotten places the Remnants of the First War
remain to be unearthed. Magic unlike any other. Things unlike anything after.
Things better left forgotten.
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