Pantheon 2.0 - Contests

[Xar]

With the development of Eiran's mythology and theology, thanks to the input offered by all the players, the Pantheon world now sports an articulated mythology, including ancient and current races, relics, legends, martyrs and saints, and so on. The more Eiran grows, the more it becomes a communal effort on the part of all players; with this in mind, this thread is meant to offer contests for players who enjoy the creative, worldbuilding aspect of the game.

Each contest presented in this thread will include its own rules, deadline, and in-game prizes; some rules, however, will apply to all of them.

1. The contests are mostly independent from the main game, which means they are open to all players, but no one is required to partecipate in them. All contests will be purely optional.

2. Each contest will have a deadline, so that submissions may be then properly voted upon. Voting will also have a deadline, after which prizes will be assigned according to the number of votes received, and all vote posts will be deleted to make space for the next contest.

3. This thread is meant only for contest announcements, contest entries and voting procedures; you may comment and ask questions in the standard Comments thread.

Additional rules might be added later. Above all, however, the important thing to remember is that these contests are meant for creative players to have an opportunity to flex their imaginations, and for all visitors - players and lurkers alike - to enjoy the results. So, create away!

Presented Contests

1. Creation Myths

[Xar]

Creation Myths

Deadline: May 20, 2007 - DONE
Voting Deadline: May 26, 2007 - DONE

With the gradual growth of the various deity-inspired religions in Eiran, one of the questions that likely are most often asked to priests of the various gods is perhaps the most fundamental one, but also the most complicated one to answer:

"How did the world come to be?"

Each deity likely has a different idea of how to answer this question, a different truth, if you will, which might or might not contradict facts and differing versions from other deities. So here's the contest: what is the creation myth of your deity? How does he or she claim the world came to be, and why?

Feel free to write the creation myth as you wish - as a dialogue, or the way it would be written on the deity's Codex, or as a tale, or any other way: the theme is fixed, but how you develop it is up to you.

Each contestant will then receive a boost to his or her number of worshipers, depending on the votes his or her creation myth will receive.

EDIT:

So, the gods whose creation myths are eligible for voting are:

Lord Adomorn
Astavyastataa Kadna
Bhakti
Jove
Mithyaat Vam
O-gon-cho
Simjen
Undine
Vadhaka Chorah

The voting procedure is quite simple. Every player in the Pantheon game (even if he or she hasn't taken part in the contest) can choose three of the creation myths, in order of preference from highest to lowest, and send me an email or a PM containing these preferences. Voting is to be secret, so please do not announce who you voted for, be it through the comments thread or PMs.

Voting will last until saturday, to give players enough time to re-read the myths multiple times, if needed, as well as to give all players the chance to partecipate, even if they do not log on daily. The deadline for voting will therefore be Saturday, May 26th, 10 pm GMT time. After that, I will be posting the names of the authors of the three most-voted creation myths, and each contestant will receive a boost in their number of worshipers depending on the amount of votes received (although all contestants will receive a prize, even if they do not receive any votes).

Incidentally, this increase in worshipers will not necessarily be tied to the turn's end, so it might actually happen mid-turn.

A copy of the voting guidelines is also posted in the post which introduced the creation myth contest, for ease of reference.

[Astavyastataa Kadna]

The CODEX of the OMEGA

In the beginning … no, that would be wrong. Then … there was not existence … so there could be no beginning. Thought. There was Presence. And that was all. There is no reckoning for how long, for time did not exist. And S(He) who is All knew … loneliness … Is this all I am?

An exertion of thought … power!! I must be more … and S(He) gave birth! And part of her thought; that S(He) became more than one! The Omega; born first and will be last … the searching for answers … each existence teaching S(He) who is All … what S(He) can become! And when S(He) knows … and is satisfied … the last Omega; and All will be one with Her/Him … and even Alpha and Omega will be gone.

The Alpha ; first act of creation’s cycle – powered by thought - gives way to order. The light! how I hated that joyous burst and incandescent structuring of multiple realities. I railed against creation. I am Chaos and Destruction ... and I destroyed. The death of stars! NOVA!! Carnage. My power was infinite and I used it with abandon!! Alas, I was betrayed!! With each star destroyed ... hydrogen fused; higher elements formed. With each reality sundered multiples created frothing the cosmos! In truth I fuel creation further – across all realities!!! Without me the cycle does not renew! And S(He) who searches would be bereft.

Realities form, universes within each! And within those galaxies are born, solar systems coalesce. Planets form. Each plane of existence with different rules, different tests; all asking Her/His question – is this all I am? Life arises, powered by thought … a piece given for each sentience. S(He) who is All has an infinite amount to give. But, the size and power … differs for each life form. And … in some planes … there are deities that are birthed; for S(He) desires experience from all means of creation. Evolution and Creation and Divine Construction are but variations in Her/His quest for answers.

Life/Death … interesting concepts. In some realities, the soul … that is borrowed thought is returned at death. And remains always with Her/Him once returned. In some; thought cycles through sequences of life and death within the reality … until the Omega; when all is ended. And all thought returns to the source. And new thought used to animate the inevitable Alpha; when creation begins again.

Eiran!! Unique in all the cosmos! It is here, protected, that S(He) tries the grand experiment. A thought unlike all others … S(He) concentrates!! And then … the Allfather who is “all” in this reality now exists. A faint touch … Her/His mind so vast even the Allfather might not comprehend. But softly, so low it is almost not sensed; music most exquisite and poignant. “I give you dominion here … teach me.” And then … gone.

The Allfather considers … and then extends his power … and Eiran exists! He brings forth the land and all that is in the firmament, the water, the beasts of Eiran, and in the land hidden, both boon and bane. He considers how best to teach S(He) who is All … and decides contests of Gods & Goddesses. I will see how they best grow and improve this world I have created - or bring it to end. And so he extends His minds and the Old Gods are born … and he sets the rules of contest and conquest; of ascension and fall; of Divine Rank and human frailty. And then he calls forward the peoples of Eiran. This and all other things He makes … and with his thought and his breath given … Life begins on Eiran … it was the first age!!

[Mistress Cathy]

In the far off universe Melchior, a battle for supremacy between gods prevailed. Each god – brothers and sisters born of the All-Fatherer - had command of his or her own solar system and all fought for space and time, each god wanting supremacy over the other. The greed and avarice of the gods was palpable and all would have perished with their warfare. The universe trembled with fear and much was destroyed. The goddess Jove struggled to maintain the wealth of the universe but the other gods were hungry with greed for dominion. The voracity among the gods sickened Jove and she wanted to put an end to the war and destruction of its wealth. It was then that Jove conceived of a way to win the battle and become the victor. So, she began to devour the solar systems of each god, taking into herself the wealth of the planets and stars. Unusual things she ingested – diamonds, gold, rubies, platinum, aquamarines, silver, turquoise – minerals beyond compare in beauty from the stone planets. She ate plants of color and perfume from the forest planets and washed it all down with seawater from the water planets. She then began to devour the other gods – the god of chaos, the goddess of death, the god of malice, the goddess of love. Greater gods and lesser gods became fodder for Jove. Thus weakened by the loss of their solar systems, the gods and goddesses became feeble to the will and appetite of Jove. Finally, Jove had consumed the entire universes of Melchior.

When all had been consumed, Jove retreated to her heavenly mint where she began to create the new world. Like a mother hawk to her young, Jove fed the solar systems into the mint and formed the new world. The wealth that she had ingested was molded into a new, better universe. She formed the planet with the spirits of the devoured gods and with the wealth from the solar systems, she created Eiran. Diamonds were turned to stars, sapphires turned into the sky, pearls into the clouds, garnets into lands and emeralds into flora, tanzanite into the oceans. With her breath Jove created the wind and with her tears the rain. She created weather patterns with her emotions. She created the moon from silver and the sun from gold. She lined the clouds with platinum and sparkled the oceans with crystals. She moved the land into different forms and diverse climates.

Beautiful and perfect Eiran was but Jove saw that it was incomplete. Eiran needed more life. Thus, Jove partook of herself and made creatures to enjoy the bounty of Eiran. She made terrestrial creatures from her feet to walk upon the land and aerial creatures from her head to fly in the air. From her saliva she made the creatures that swam in the oceans.

These creatures pleased Jove immensely and she watched with pleasure as they populated Eiran. She instructed them to live together in peace and enjoy the wealth of the planet she made for them.

It was then that Jove retreated to her heaven to rest.

In that time, the creatures – animals, fish, birds, dragons, orcs - saw Jove as the sun, so great was her glow that when they watched the sun set on the horizon, they thought she had left them in darkness and fear.

Without Jove watching them, fear turned to covetousness and they soon began to quarrel and grow envious of each other. The birds wished to experience swimming in the ocean and the deer wished to soar over the mountains. Many of the creatures became territorial and refused to allow others access to their wealth.

When Jove awoke and turned her eye to them, she asked them why they were quarreling.
They complained that they did not have enough of their own and wanted what other creatures had. As Jove tried to mediate between the creatures, she came to realize that they had made their own minds and were not going to compromise.

In anger at their disobedience to her word and turning Eiran into yet another battle to be fought over greed and avarice, Jove removed their sovereignty over Eiran. Since they could not govern themselves, she said, something else would govern them.

Jove decided to make humans who would have superiority over the animals. Thus, with an egg from her own womb, Jove created woman. From woman, Jove decided, all human life would be born for only woman was perfect in form as the goddess was perfect in form. The woman Jove named Rachel and she was indeed perfect in form. It was from Rachel that man sprung. Jove named him Saskia.

Together, they would populate Eiran and because the woman and in turn the man were part of the fertile egg of Jove, it would be they and their offspring who would govern the animals and all of Eiran.

[Simjen]

______________________________________________The Tome of the Forge______________________________________________
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Book One: Origin------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harken to these words, People of Simjen. For this is the beginning as told to me by The Smith himself. And in these words is as much truth as is in you to understand

But be wary. As the mark on the map resembles the mountain when seen from afar, yet bears litttle relation to those that know it well, so do these words become useless when taken as more than a guide to the complete Truth.

In the beginning, there was only the mother of Simjen's grandfather, and her name was Merah Iye. Her name gives us the dwarrow words for both "everything" and "nothing."

Think on this, for it is one of the most important truths of existence. Only in nothing can anything be. The cave exists inside of the mountain. And inside the cave is the vein. Inside the vein is the jewel. From inside the jewel gleams light. And inside the light? The heavens and earth came from nothing, but the emptiness still shines through.

Then it came that Merah Iye discovered Gerant, whose name we know as "possibility." And together they built the great house that holds not only everything that ever was, is, or will be, but everything that could have been or could be.

Knowing this, consider that only afterwards did such a thing as time come to be. Without time, its divisions cannot be. Past, present, future become meaningless. So Merah Iye and Gerant are meeting eachother as much now as they were then. Their house is built, but they are building it now. A wise dwarrow knows that for this reason, the words "it cannot be" have no meaning.

And then there came to be Simjen's grandfather, the one the gods call All Father. It was he who built the great wing in which eiran is but a room - the four edges are its walls, the land and sea the floor, and the sky for the ceiling.

The All Father looked upon this room, and he saw that it was empty. So he gave it to his son to furnish and decorate.

As his father's father had done, and as his father had done, he brought forth his children to share in creation.

His first son brought light to Eiran, and he was the sun. As he was both restless but dutiful to his father's wishes, he constantly traveletd across Eiran, looking at every part of it to ensure all was well.

But one part of Eiran always caught his eye: the maiden named Shakari. Eventually, the two fell in love. Shakari gave birth to their first child. So it came to be that the first mortal life on Eiran was the first tree. And soon the entire world was populated by their children. In this way did all plantlife come to Eiran.

The father's first daughter was the opposite of her brother in many ways. And though she was dutiful to her father, she resented her brother. She made it a point to be wherever he was not. Her brother had no respect for privacy and little concern what damage his direct attention had. And though she could never deny her older brother, she did her best to soothe the land after he passed.

There was one god that paid little attention to her brother, this god was the Sea, and this trait endeared him to her. The Sea showed the Night places where her brother couldn't reach. And soon they had many children of their own. This is how the sea, and then the lakes and the rivers, came to be populated with all manner of creatures.

The father had another son, one of a mercurial nature. He was the Wind, and he generally went wherever he chose. When he was bored, he created something to amuse himself. Clouds first, as their randomness was much like his own, and watching them provided unending variety to entertain him. Then dragons. Some proved more violent or strange than he intended. These he forbade the sky to carry, and they lived on either in the sea or on land. Last, he created birds, and this was his favorite pasttime. The type of birds he could create were limitless. A few he did not like, and these too did he send to the land or sea.

But the father's favorite child was a curious lass. She always wanted to know everything about what her brothers and sisters were doing. And though she felt she could do better, she was envious of their children. So she made her own. Pretty horses, cute furry animals. Silly ones with long necks or tails.

But as Eiran grew older, so did she. And she found herself with the desire to talk to someone. She decided to make something more like herself. Her first attempt, though sturdy of design, was rough and crude. It had little inclination towards conversation. So were the Orcs made.

The second was much more delicate and artistic. But their complexity was their flaw. She found them too mischievious for honest communication. So were the Fey made.

Her next attempt found her taking her favorite animal, the horse, and combining its simplistic beauty with the unsuccessful Fey design. She created the Centaur, and they were majestic, fascinating creatures, quite capable of carrying on deep conversations with nearly unlimited stamina to do so into the night and well into the next day. Perhaps it was something left over in their four legs, but eventually they could stay no longer. They grew angry and restless if they did not run across the open land.

So again, she found herself alone. She told herself she would give it one last try. Taking the centaur design, she removed the four legs and other horse attributes. She formed new legs to match the torso. So was the first Man made. With this, she was finally happy and made no more beings.

An age passed, and the father checked the progress. The room was no longer empty. Indeed, there were many things of great beauty. But he saw that it was full, that the things within would soon grow beyond the capacity of the room to support.

Realizing this, he called forth his youngest son, Simjen. With a heavy heart, he informed his son that it would be his task to clear out the room so that Eiran could live. For this, he was given his birthright - Fire. And his arrival spelled the beginning of what we know as mortality.

It came to Simjen easily, did the wielding of fire. He sent great fingers of it through the dense forests. He pulled flaming gouts from the sky to hammer the plains. And he pushed his fists into the ground, driving up volcanoes to spit, smoke, and explode across the sea.

No creature or creation on Eiran was safe. His brothers and sisters came angrily to him, bearing in their arms their dead children. Simjen's precious nieces and nephews. When he tried to tell them he had only done it to save Eiran, they looked at him with pity and disgust.

Only his oldest brother, the one he admired most, came to him. Putting a hand on his shoulder, he said, "Simjen, you could have found a better way. Fire is not your curse. It is a gift, but it does not define you. Surely you can do more with it than destroy."

Simjen bowed his head and thanked his brother.

His other siblings never came again to see him. The pain of their loss and the weight of their years slowly drove them away from Eiran, or perhaps drove them deeper into Eiran, considering he would occasionally see their faces in the new gods that came and went.

But his oldest brother always greeted him as he passed over Simjen, sitting on the highest mountain. It was on this mountain that Simjen vowed to be a creator. Like his father and his father's father. And he would use fire to do it. If he must follow his father's will and burn away that which threatens Eiran's stability, he would make sure something greater came of it.

Looking at his sister's various works, he decided her last model, Man, had the most potential. However, much work remained to be done. He sent fire into the earth and created the first hammer, anvil, and chisel. These he used to reshape man, and when the new form fit the work he had in mind, he gave these tools to them. Then he passed his flame over them all - to harden them, to protect them, and to seal them to him.

And this is how the Dwarrow came to be, and how they came to be at Magoddar.

~Ferax Snorlson~

[balon!]

A Collection of Essays Pertaining to the Existence of the Gods and the Universe.
Compiled by:
Darius of Sanctuary


“How big is the world? HA! Most of us have no time for such things, boy, but if you insist, let me tell you that it as big as it is small. Does that help? I didn’t think so. Now GET BACK TO WORK!”

--The Master Trainer Bors to his student.

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“The world. When one really looks down upon such a place, one realizes that a world is not all that big. A collection of dirt, metals centered around a gravity well. Add a few trees here, an ocean there, and some people, and you’ve got planet. Not too spectacular.

Of course, when one ventures outwards, things begin to increase. Another few planets. An asteroid belt, a few comets passing through getting smaller and smaller every time they pass the sun. The sun. Now THAT’S some size. A huge collection of nothing but combustibles, all constantly exploding outward, yet never ceasing to grow. Not too complex though, nothing to get too excited about.

Once you get out of the solar system you can start to see some size. Mostly the size of the empty space between things that have no unexpected largeness about them. Our solar system might occupy a few hundred million miles. But out past the last orbit? Why the distances can’t be measured by any number we have! One can only imagine the distance it takes before one reaches the Gods. If such a distance can really be crossed in the first place.”

--Mathematician Lex to his Student Body at the University of Thought at Sanctuary.

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“Time? What is time, exactly? Can you touch it? Can you see it? How does one exert whether or not a thing exists, when there is no real proof of its existence? Obviously the Gods are a perfect example of how time doesn’t exist at all! They out live many generations of people on this planet, until finally, the people themselves forget that they exist at all! Perhaps that is the real answer, that for a thing to exist, you must simply believe it exists. The Gods do not believe in time, and therefore do not age. The People do not believe in the Gods, and they likewise disappear.”

--Samson, Beggar Philosopher of 4th Street, City of Magran.

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“When the Universe itself was still in its infancy, there was a Man of immense strength. He and his wife, Woman, were the only inhabitants of this new place, the Universe. They had no memories of how they got there, or why, which seemed the more important question to them at the time.

Now, Man and Woman looked around at the Universe around them, and found it quite empty. In fact, they couldn’t even see the end of the place around them, it simply stretched out to the sides, bottom and top as far as they could see, and then kept going. They both agreed that the first thing they should do was explore this new place, and see what there was to see. So for the next thousand years they walked from place to place, and where they stepped new worlds sprang forth, circling around new suns, surrounded by new asteroids and comets and separated by huge girths of space (which to Man and Woman, weren’t all that big at all.)

Long before they noticed all these new areas to explore, they had already filled half the Universe with Planets, Suns, Asteroids and Comets, and HUGE girths of space.

They looked down onto these new places, and to their surprise, saw that people like them had sprung up! Only much, much smaller. So Man and Woman named the little people after themselves (to their much expanding egos.) They at once saw that these little men and women moved much faster than Man and Woman did. Already a full thirteen generations of men and women had passed before Man and Woman realized what they were doing, and more were dying and living all the time.

Man and Woman didn’t know what to do! They obviously couldn’t take anymore steps, for to walk again would simply create more and more Worlds, and more people to die on these worlds. They talked and counseled together for more than a thousand generations of people. At the end of the wait, they had made a decision. They would create special beings. Beings like them. Not as small as men and women, yet not as big as Man and Woman. They called them Gods, and told them what to do. “You will watch over these worlds where we have already stepped, and we will watch over you. Each of you will take care of a special part of this World. Work with each other, love each other. And don’t walk anywhere. We don’t know what you’ll do.”

Eventually Man and Woman had a Child. By that point their original Gods had already passed on to other worlds, spreading and watching and helping. Creating and Destroying on the worlds they watched over. They named this Child Allbert, because from now on, he would create new Gods. Because “We can’t walk anywhere to make new Gods to watch over the worlds we left behind, it is your job now, Allbert. Move to a new world and make new Gods, and make sure they watch over it and then move on to the next.

And so Allbert did. He moved from world to world leaving Gods and Goddesses in his wake, leaving them each with instruction to watch and keep the worlds he left them. Until, one day, he reached the first step that Man and Woman had made. He saw that this was the place he would stay, and between him and his Parents, they would watch over all the Gods watching over all the Worlds. So he sat down, and created a new batch of Gods and Goddesses, ones who would know him as his other children did not. “Only, they can’t know me as Allbert, that’ll never do. They will know me as Allfather. Much better.” So Allfather created a new batch of Gods and Goddesses who knew him as Allfather, and watched over them as they watched over this world, which he named Eiran.

And here He and They have been, for as long a time as we can tell, watching us as we watch them.”

--“The History of the Universe” by Bil of Hob

[Vadhaka]

The Return Of The Gods – The Creation of a New World
-An Extract from the Introduction of The Black Book, by Pandita the Scholar-

In the Beginning the Gods created the Heavens and the Earth,
And the Earth was without Form and Void,
And Darkness moved on the Face of the Deep.

And in the Darkness, the AllFather laboured to draw the land from the water. The AllFather shaped the energies of the Void into matter, and sculpted the first life and people of Erian from the ichor of his thoughts.

And the people of the Erian that was cast their dreams, their hopes, into the cosmos and there, amidst the cold stars the demiurges left over from the AllFather’s consciousness fed on them, becoming the old gods, and heralding an age of conflict that was to last until the world cracked beneath the weight of Nephirthos’ malice.

Then the gods fled or were cast down, and darkness fell over the benighted survivors of the war between them as they struggled through the centuries of bleak existence without the aid and succour of their gods.

And then, toward the end of the age of darkness in which Erian was made anew, the First Thief Asurta, Enveloped in Darkness, crept on stealthy feet into the abandoned dwellings of the gods, and stole back from that lonely place the spark of light that Erian had been so long without, winning for himself a new name, Arkatvis, the Light of the Sun.

And in that light Erian began to prosper once more, godless and alone in the void, but near healed and made whole once more, until the voices of the people yearned again for the blessings of gods, and the needs of the First Prophet, Pathikah, summoned the demiurge that became Vadhaka Chora, Patron of all those who move silently by night.

Later myths claiming that Vadhaka Chora created the world himself from the entrails of the first Deity that he assassinated have been declared false by the Church, and denied by our Lord himself.

[stonemaybe]

Extract from 'The **VERY PRIVATE** Diary of Elimere, People's Princess of Mer Solus and Bride of Undine


While we were cavorting in the Deeps, dear Diary, my God created for me a curious vision that you might find amusing!

That dastardly alien, Pourzoleh (we showed HIM who's boss!), had opened his gateway and I was still dreadfully worried at the time (as you know), and I let my fears be known to my Beloved. Well! Guess what He said? He told me Pourzoleh was only barely more alien that He or Me!! "A matter of a few seasons," was his exact phrase! I WAS a little bit miffed, I have to say!

Later, much later, ( ) when My Love was totally relaxed and we were floating aimlessly on the world currents, I decided to delve deeper, and asked what He had meant. "Come," He said, taking My hand, "and I will show you the only TRUE native of Eiran.

We dived.

Deeper than I have ever been before, into the lightless depths where the bejewelled monsters of the Deep blindly hunt.

And further still.

"Now, watch!" My Beloved commanded, gesturing downwards.

I gradually became aware of faintly glowing creatures, moving slowly and seemingly randomly, over a vast extent of sea-bed. On closer observation, I realised they were nothing more than luminescent sea-slugs, the same that mother uses so delightfully in her famous relish!

As I watched, two of them collided head to head. At that instant, a great light shone forth, something like a gate opened momentarily, and something emerged: a shadow of a maelstrom, that flashed off towards the East.. I gradually became aware of many other such events, smaller and less momentous, as the sea-slugs brushed each other in passing. Only once did I witness another direct collision: This time a dragon appeared, shining like the sun, that quickly disappeared into the West.

"Behold!" declared My Husband, "The thoughts and dreams of The Allfather! See the tracks? My guess is, it is eighteen seasons since the first collisions, anything we recall before that is simply fiction, born inside our heads as we ourselves were being 'born' fully-grown!

Oh, My Undine is SO thoughtful, dear diary! I giggled for so long at his joke I completely forgot all my worries about Pourzoleh!

[O-gon-cho]

***

And you shall tell thine hatchlings in that day, saying, ‘Thus it was told to me, as it has been told since the first.’

***

The silence as the drums faded far above was complete. In the far recesses of the sacred cave, no shadow or gleam of the world above could penetrate, and the two creatures rapt in devout stillness scarcely seemed to breathe. On this, the last night of the calendar, it was a time for secrets long untold, and even the dry bones of the rock seemed taut with anticipation. With a sound like the rasping of a lid on an ancient sarcophagus, the old one spoke the ritual invocation.

“Hear, O Nephew, of the font and origin of the world, and of the wellspring of consciousness. Learn the truth of existence and identity and be thou not longer confused. Even so did I sit at the feet of my Master, and he before his, since the first of our kind came to the land.

“Who can say what came before Time, what lies outside Space? Sameness and Change were not; Light and Darkness were not; Male and Female, Rise and Fall, Cold and Heat, Dryness and Moisture, Love and Strife – NOT. Yet there was no lack. Complete unto itself the Eternal Serpent did at once give birth to and devour itself, swallowing itself whole ceaselessly. This Dance was the wellspring of all that Is, has Been, and could ever Be.

“As if frozen, the lifetime of all possible worlds was immediately clear; both the perfect Cosmic Egg which contains the Seed of Creation and the Gaping Maw of Ultimate Demise, that crushes all things both existent and potential. They stood in desperate counterpoise, reflected infinitely in the jeweled webs of the undifferentiated Absolute.

“The Moment envisioned: a self-limitation, whereby the Net was broken, each reflection cut off, conscious only of itself as a nested fractal hierarchy of seething opposites, feeling vaguely as though this ought not to be the case.

“One jewel-overmind saw the Egg as itself coming to be and the Serpent as fulfillment and renewal, and behold, this was a wonder indeed. No longer remembering or regretting the Infinity of which it was once a part, now apart from the Beyond-Within that some call Abyss, the Jewel became at once Egg and Serpent, Creation and Dissolution, pulsing like a love-beat, breathing in-out like a rice paper soul in the breeze of Perfection.

“This was the beginning of Cyclic Change, which we know dimly as Time.”

As if to emphasize the extension of time from source to infinitude, the old one fell silent. As the pause drew on, his young audience grew restive.

“Senex, wise uncle, tell me more of this great truth, hidden by the wise from those who would despoil its beauty.”

“Sit then, Raucous, sit and hear of the Great Principles by which the Seeming arises from the limitless sky of Being.”

“All things must change form, yet something there is that remains unchanged. This is the Path of the Serpent: to unroll from mouth to tail, every phase and form in sequence, only to consume the tail again in a new cycle; so do the myriad forms arise, change, and return to formlessness. Even so does the Egg crack asunder to the Hatchling’s tooth, the young drake strives upward to clasp his mate, and the fulsome Weyr-Mother in time lay anew.

“So too the worlds arise from Air and Light, Flame condensing into molten rock and then cooling; rain washes down to grind away the very bones of the land, and the silted sea gives forth boiling mists to form worlds anew.

“Is that where Dragon Fire comes from?”

Unruffled by the interruption, Senex intoned smoothly, “Surely eaters of rock must belch forth the last flame that remains unquenched within.

“In the self-created world, all forms strive to honor the circle of the Serpent and the rounded Egg. Our females live with this as vessels of the Life Magic. Yet there is a Will to Become, some say born of the consciousness of dearth, some say arising from the self-perfecting drive. This Will is straight: linear, masculine, unyielding. It loves the corners and edges of artifice. Some believe the line is the smallest of a circle, hardly a scale on the Serpent’s back. But may not a plentitude of lines form a circle as easily as any other form? So which is prior? Likewise a spherical Egg is the cross-rotation of the Serpent’s circular path; drawn at last fully unto itself does not the Serpent vanish into a point infinitesimal? And what is a line if not a sequence of points: extended, yet comprising elements without extension? For these are the intension and remission of degrees regarding which we can only hypothesize.

It was becoming clear that these conundrums were better experienced in meditation than spoken in such terms. ”O, Uncle, I cry! I do not see the point to any degree of such extended musing.”

Senex replied, “Listen well to the archetypes of growth and form, and understand.”

“Each thing holds within a Book, a Candle, and a Bell. The Book tells the story of how the organism unfolds from itself unto itself, congruent at every stage and scale. The Candle is the driving force: nisus, entelechy, call it what you will. It is what impels, the élan vital, quintessence, Heart of the Flame. Without this fire no change or eventuation occurs. The Bell is the harmonic soul, tuning in and resonating – the why of existence. From golden motes cascading up the rays of the Autumn Sun to the greatest bronze dragon in flight to the living stone of Caer and Weyr—all ring with the echo of each!”

***

For so the Sages have written: ‘Nature naturing as natural things; G-d divining divinity. This is the Way.’

***

“The order of the world proceeds by spirals, triangles, and circles. The growth spiral emerges rightward, outward, and upward; this is exhalation, unrolling, manifesting. The renewal spiral recovers leftward, inward, and downward; it is to inhale, consume, potentiate. Fire – Male – Upward, the triangle leaps from base to apex skyfathering the New. Air – Female – Downward, it funnels grace and mercy into the changeless earthmothering source of Magic.

“As the drop disturbs the stillness of the mere, and wavelets propagate from nothing out to nothingness, so the circle is the alpha and the omega of perception. Fount and foundation, limit and limn, circles go rippling outward and overlapping to yield the blueprints and intersections of all else. Thus truly it has been said that the circle is the only letter in the alphabet of growth.

***



***

”But, Wise One, is it not also said that the world is made of four principles, earth, air, fire and water?”

“Aye, by many.

“And of the four qualities that complement them: hot, dry, cold, and wet. All things are said to proceed from these and to participate in them to one extent or another; there is condensation and rarefaction, sublimation and deposition. Then, too, some hold the finest dust of each to be irreducible, all things built up of combinations of these parts together with motion in the void. Growth and decay thus illustrate attractive structuring impulses (Love) or repulsive scattering ones (Strife). Sometimes Love and Strife intersperse, weaving a delicate balance we perceive as order; then again the outcomes may be more subtle and the dynamic resolution of opposites appears as entropy. But this is not the whole story.”

”How not?”

“The distance a dragon can fly without rest is not even visible compared to an image of the known lands. Just so all we experience or hear tell of is less than a scale of the great Serpent or a shard of the first Egg. How then can we talk of universals with the same language we use for those particulars with which we are most familiar?”

The old one lapsed once more into his reverie. This time his nephew joined him, for when silence is spontaneous, speech becomes extraneous. After what seemed like no time at all, or an eternity, but was in actuality a little less than an hour, the lesson resumed.

“When the primordial world first arose, only the subtle light was, called AION, the Invisible Sun by some, casting no shadow among names and forms. As a point to a circle, this shone forth into the casual world. This world has neither center nor edge in a strict sense, although manifesting in a way metaphoric, like a circle extended radially outward from a point by an infinity of beams. Some call it apeiron, the Boundless or the Open Gate. Here the monad became dyadic, giving rise to Light and Shadow, Being and Void, Creation and Destruction, Good and Evil. The first-order becoming is known as the first hypostasis. This is Atzilut, the world of names that control.

“Then, as a circle to a sphere, the casual world shone forth again, giving shape to the celestial or astral world, the B’reishis, the Heavens, or the Firmament. Herein are the most refined essences it is possible to perceive directly and yet recall to words. It is the natural place of spirits, and the exalted among us may travel within, or return here upon death of the body, without dissolution. Here the sky of the sky and the deep of the deep do found our perceptions of the above and the within. Here are born sigils and myths, symbols and archetypes. The shining forth of this realm is the second hypostasis.

“And it is said that some few are able to re-ascend the ladder of being, as they remain pure and uncorrupt, not tied to the gross material world. They may enter the astral world bodily, emerging at another place in the scheme of things, in a process known as kweisatz ha-derekh, the Shortening of the Way. The secret of this technique has not been given to the un-initiated.

“But it remains to tell of the House of the Fallen, the cast-off, cast-out, cast-down, imperfect world. The ordinary, mundane, profane realm. Dregs of cosmic glory in which we kill and die, hoping only for the peace of a moment, the touch of a loved one, a fleeting glimpse of something neither absurd nor tragic. This is malkhut, the Ground or Foundation; some call it a sewer of existence. Here we play our roles in theaters of sublime ridicule, demanding others honor our petty slights and quibbles as though we might gain status from displaying the extent of our pale scars and scabrous imperfections. Yet even here is there something sacred, some light that remains unsullied, fractured and splintered by numberless reflections in the chaotic foam of individuality. This is the realm of separation, fear, and hate; this is also the realm of union, love, and joy. For no longer need we all remain utterly distinct. This is the third hypostasis, but it is the base of the ladder that returns to the all-that-is-one.

“In the House of the Fallen are many chambers, as those who have returned from the entrance-hall attest. We live on the best of all possible worlds, for it is here that we may find the paving stones on the true path. Once, it is said, the world was orderly and harmonic. Our ancestors lived thousands of years as the ground itself strove to bring forth nectar and ambrosia. Sickness and suffering were nearly unknown, and death itself little more than a sigh into the next world. What did Time and Space, with their limits and brutal regularities, mean to us in the Gold Age, we who were blest to know wind and rock, snow and sea, loam and light in friendship? Our song was as thunder in distant mountains, and our dance as fallen leaves in a cyclone. A dragon could fly six weeks in any direction without passing the same place twice. Now all roads are bent, and the mists boil at the edges of the world, and our maps say, in the blank spaces, ‘Here be bipeds.’ The world we have known passes before its time, even as I speak!

“Yet there is reason to hope, even as we feel our despair. For we old ones remember the prophecy. As the power in the world wanes and our kind diminish, we know that one day a creature shall be born of the Light and Air, hatched in the form of a biped, but with Flame in her heart. We await the g-ddess who will restore our kind and our world to the path of righteousness.

“Nor will there be long to wait, for even now forces gather to do battle for our souls and honor. We will know the Shorter Way; we will speak without sound; we will fulfill the prophecy.”

This was all too much to retain, and the young listener burst forth in eagerness and confusion, “But, Senex, how can the world be so damaged that no great circles remain?”

Senex replied, “Our best minds say that the world has an energy to it, not perceptible to our undisciplined senses, that makes some directions easier to travel than others. You know the stone that draws iron?”

“You mean tickle-stone, that the males eat for a game when they are too young to claim a mate?”

“The same.

“When the world was young it is said rocks flowed like snow in the sun, and the tickle-stone, as you call it, did spread itself like a net over the surface of the world, converging in two points of focus. By encircling these points one could move in seemingly straight lines and yet return to the same place, having traveled the whole world. Now the plan crumbles into ruin, and hundreds of nodes take the place of the former poles. Even flocks cannot find wintering grounds some years. No-one has attempted a Short Way since before my Father’s time. But the g-ddess will change that, you’ll see.”

“Uncle, you spoke of ascension – climbing the ladder of existence. How may this be accomplished?”

“I can neither tell nor show you except to point the way to the lowest rung, my nephew.

“Three principles there are to grasp it: duty to ones fellows, denial of the lower impulses, discipline of perception. These fight three veils: pride of personality, pride of the flesh, and pride of the intellect. Mastery yields three virtues: mercy, generosity, and insight. Indulgence spawns three vices: arrogance, greed, and ignorance. Rare indeed is he who can maintain hold on the first rung; find such a teacher to help you ascend.”

“But what of the land and its peoples, the creatures of air and sea, field and wood? What of our customs and history? What of the greater and lesser bloodlines? And our society? What of Weyrmaking and Impression? There is so much unsaid!”

“Your youth betrays you, nephew. Have you no one at your den to tell you such things? Fill your mind with details and the buzz of your thoughts will drown out the quiet speech of the stones! That is enough for one night!”

[Bhakti]

Love. The primal state. Put simply, Love has always been.

And Love was All for an immeasurable time. "Immeasurable" not because of magnitude, but because it cannot be contemplated. It is the same as asking, if there was only one object in all existence, how could we say whether or not it was moving? Was Love the Totality for an infinite time? For an instant? Both. Neither.

But after this time-that-was-not-time, there was a change. (For there is always change. Always.) Love became aware of itself. It was no longer merely the state of all existence; it was now a... being. An awareness. It was no longer only Love; it also did Love. It knew its nature. And it found its nature to be good. Correct. And it now consciously Loved. It was Love directed.

However, Love had no direction. It was the sum total of all infinity. It had only itself to Love. Self-Love is necessary, but it is not enough. The Infinite Love donned big eyebrows and a mustache, lit a cigar, and said, "This is utterly ridiculous!" It needed something not itself to Love. And so, it created. It created by withdrawing. It withdrew from a portion of the infinite All, leaving emptiness. Creating a new reality. A reality where it did not exist. And since Love was all there was anywhere, this new reality, lacking in Love, contained nothing. There was non-existence.

And Love Loved this nothingness; this thing that was not itself.

But there is always change. And from nothing arises something. Before Love's very "eyes," this nothingness began filling with all manner of things. So many things!! What began as merely absence of Love soon became filled with things other than Love. Some things - things like Joy and Honor - looked much like Love. Others - Hate, Fear, Despair - were entirely foreign. Love wanted to understand all of these things better, and began reaching in and touching them. And lo! (Love talks like Aragorn sometimes. ) Each contact created physical substance!! And touching the same thing twice brought forth two different physical things. Wonderous things that contain different ratios of Love and the other.

Thus, Love created the universe. Touching, caressing, poking...

In truth, Love was giddy, and created without understanding. Things created were sometimes evil. But Love did not notice, having moved quickly on to the next. Behind Love's back, there were murders, rapes, enslavements. When Love stepped back and saw, it was horrified! What to do?!! Quickly!! Infuse all evil-doers with Love!!

No. Love coerced is another form of slavery. This is the purpose of Choice. Love must be chosen. If Love is coerced, then why not force it on all? Because to do so would be to return all of existence to a state of nothing but Love. Back to the primal state. If such was the goal, then there would have been no point in leaving it in the first place.

So let it remain. Love is in the core of all. Every being can find it within. One must simply choose to do so.

But Love created servants. Beings who more fully feel the underlying basis of existence. The Bhakti line, who are repeatedly drawn to the world of Eiran. Jesus of Old Earth. The reality named the Kol Norath, which is much like the Primal State, and has a strong influence on the realities that border it. And on and on. Everywhere, these Avatars (that should be worth at least one vote, eh? ) of Love can be found. They protect those who have chosen Love from those who will not.

[Seura]

Seura pushed open the worn oak door of the tavern and scanned the main room and bar. Sanctuary, older than its new name and overflowing with new commerce and politics, had become a bustling metropolis and it took him a long time to find a tavern not crowded with merchants and dignitaries and delegates. He sighed as he took stock of the denizens in the dimly lit room. Military. No doubt about it. There was a fireplace and a long bar and several tables and booths. The stone floor was littered with nut shells and bore the stains of more than one drunken brawl. He spotted a group of fey around a far table having a game of bones and next to them at a longer table sat a group of off duty soldiers, still in their day watch uniforms, vying for the attentions of a young woman with a bar towel and a tray. In another corner two of Adamorn’s Lieutenants huddled over a board game and the aroma of meat pies mingled with ale and wafted around him. He closed the door behind him and made his way through the tables to the other side of the room and the corner of the bar where an able-looking barman smiled and motioned to the taps in front of him over the heads of the other patrons seated on stools. Seura nodded and the barman filled a tankard and brought it to him.

“You are the commander of some type of regiment but damned if I can tell which one!” said the barman as he sat the drink on the bar and grinned at Seura.
“Ha! If you find out, barman, you will please to let me know!” he chuckled and took a long drink of the ale and sputtered and coughed. “Ye Gods, that’s Dwarrow brew! I have found the right tavern after all!!” he laughed and took a second, slower drink, savoring the heat of it.
“Yes the Dwarrow know the way of it, don’t they! I am Erl” he said, wiping his hands with a bar towel, “Welcome to the Blue Tankard, soldier, will you be wanting dinner? We also have rooms upstairs should the Dwarrow Ale overcome you this evening, Captain!” he produced his cleaned hand and Seura shook it.
“Seura will do, Erl and I thank you. I am most happy to find you. Yes, dinner would be good. I have rooms near the center of the city but I may not make it back there this night. A room would suit. Make it monthly and you’ve a deal.” He said producing enough coin for two months of rent and Dwarrow Ale. He was already more at home here than he’d felt since leaving Kortral.
“Fine enough, Captain, I’ll just have Rae bring you some food and get your key.” he nodded and scurried off in the direction of the kitchen.


“I’d say you were with the contingent from Maayaa Nagoori,” said a deep voice behind him. He turned and saw a man, seated in the booth nearest the bar. “From the tattooing and the accent, I’d say you’re Kortralian and many leagues from your home, Commander.” The man was fair-haired, with a neatly trimmed beard and a ruggedly handsome face. He wore loose clothing and bore no weapons that Seura could see, but he had the distinctive look of a battle-worn warrior and a tankard of Dwarrow brew on the table in front of him. Seura had seen him many times in the company of one delegate or another in the city center. That he now found the man here alone in a soldier’s bar pleased him no end.
“You would be correct on both counts, sir. You are Jameak, prophet of Lord Adamorn?”
“I am. And you are Seura, First Sword of the Sleeping Goddess. Please, share my table.”
“Thank you but no politics this evening if you don’t mind, sir. I am all done in with politicking and seek only to have a quiet drink and perhaps a game of bones.”
“Ah, we are in agreement then, Commander. I am just getting acquainted with this very fine Dwarrow Ale myself and would rather not think about the political ramifications of having another,” the prophet chuckled at his own joke.
The kitchen girl appeared with Seura’s food and gathered up their tankards for another round. Jameak excused himself to the privy and Seura set about eating the meat pie. This prophet Jameak was just a man after all. As Murah was just a woman. His resentments for the gods who used them like pawns on a game board was eased somewhat. It felt good to just sit and talk. He realized that he missed Murah and felt another twinge of regret that she had asked him to come here to this outpost of political intrigue. He did not know how to be a politician. He was a hunter and a warrior, not a dignitary. These little word games of diplomacy and compliance stuck in his craw. But he trusted Murah, even if he did not yet fully trust Mithyaat Vam.
“Your food grows cold, Seura,” Jameak said as he returned to his seat, “what dire thoughts take you from your plate, my friend?”
“Ah, yes, well...I was just thinking of Murah and the Sleeping Goddess. I feel useless here while Murah bears the weight of her position. Tell me, Jameak, how is it, to be the keeper of such knowledge, to bear the weight of a god on your shoulders?”
“My friend, my Lord Adamorn has given my life, paltry as it was, purpose. There is less weight now than I bore as a man who had nothing. Do not resent Murah’s service to her goddess. She is naught but a vessel to be filled, as are we all.”
The prophet’s words stole into Seura’s heart. The man spoke truth. His voice rang in Seura’s ears as had Murah’s when she first spoke to the hunting party that found her wandering in the forests of Kortral.
“Tell me, Seura,” Jameak said to him. And Seura found himself telling the prophet of that night, around the campfire.


They had made camp at dusk. The party was traveling along the base of the foothills and the evening was growing cool. Another two days of travel and they would be home with the meat and the strange mute woman they had found wandering in the forest. She sat huddled near the fire rocking back and forth with her arms crossed over her chest. She wore the soft leather tunic and britches the boy Arthen had given her. She ate but little and Seura worried over her. He got up and took a plate of greens to where she sat. He motioned the plate to her and she looked up at him. He saw something in her eyes that had not been present a few minutes ago. The vacant stare was gone. Her eyes glittered intelligence at him, startling him. He stepped back and turned to see if anyone else had noticed but the rest of the men were busy about making bedrolls and eating and had not seen. When he looked back at her she was rocking again, not looking at him. He went back to his place on the other side of the fire and watched her. Something was happening. He could feel a tension, could taste a metallic tannin on the air. None seemed to notice but him. And then, while he was watching her, she looked up at him again and spoke.

“I tell it to you now from the caverns of the earth where it was written and from the poetry of the stars where it is still sung. Long buried scrolls and tablets writ in glyphs and runes and pictures. From the other place. Those who were there knew my name.” She gestured with her hands as if opening a heavy curtain and a ripping sound startled him. The men of the party stopped in their places. No one moved. The woman had opened a warren. Seura saw the fire between them reflected on stone walls of warrens no longer traversable. There was a long pause and someone shifted behind him and Seura stared, shaking uncontrollably. Her voice was pitched lower, the accent exotic and had the feeling of hearing bells, like a pleasant ringing in their ears. The hunting party was transfixed as she continued.

“In the beginning there was only Dark and Light and the empty universe between them. Day loved Night, and she him, but the borders of their kingdoms were the far and never ending horizons and they could not touch. So great was their desire for each other that a thought was formed of conscious mind and they became extant in matter, Sun and Moon, spinning around each other in a dance. Their love dance rent the cosmos and bits of their hearts spun out into the vacuum of space to become stars, and where Night and Day touched these stars exploded in rapture and so were born Dusk and Dawn and worlds between them. The worlds were many and all filled with creatures of corporeal existence, fey and dwarrow and human and others. Day and Night saw need for regency of these worlds and sent their children, those whom you call Gods, to tend the gardens of their love-born desires. And so, she of the inbetween, the sleeping one, came to this world, Eiren, to tend the dreams of its inhabitants. The heart of Night and Day lies deep in the center of the world and around it spins Mithyaat Vam. Child of the Sun and Moon, privy to the deep dreaming of the cosmos. She who commands the warren of dreams has taken this woman, Murah, as her earthly servant. Bear witness, you mortal men of Eiren, I have wakened again and will tender your dreams in payment of my regency.”


The sounds of the tavern around Seura filtered back into his consciousness and he looked across the table at Jameak who was staring back at him with rapt attention.
“Thank you, Seura, for telling me,” he said simply, “I have long wondered how it must be for others.”
Seura took a long drink from the tankard before him and let the hot ale slide slowly down his throat.
“You are kind to listen to my ramblings. And now, I think I shall go up to my room and allow this Dwarrow Ale to work it’s magic. Perhaps I will not dream tonight and so, rest.”

[Xar]

Creation Myths

And so ends the first contest for the Pantheon game! We had nine entries in this contest, and a total of 10 players voted to determine which of these creation myths would win the contest. As no strict regulations regarding how to judge a myth were issued, some players voted according to their personal tastes, others according to the humor or epic quality of each myth, and so on.

The authors of the three most-voted creation myths were:

1. Simjen with 5 1/4 votes;
2. Mithyaat Vam with 4 3/4 votes;
3. Lord Adomorn with 2 3/4 votes.

Congrats all around! The total followers for each player who took part in the contest will be updated shortly. Stay tuned for the next contest!

[Xar]

Eschatology

Deadline: June 15, 2007 - DONE
Voting Deadline: June 20, 2007 - DONE

A question which appears to be the logical opposite of the previous contest, of a creation myth, is perhaps another of the great mysteries of Eiran, and countless followers turn to their gods in hopes of receiving an answer.

"How will the world end?"

It is a fitting contest to run during the turmoil of the current situation in Eiran, and each god doubtlessly has his own version of the end of the world, whether it be tied to their creation myth or not. So here's the contest: what does your deity teach will happen at the end of time? Will the world end too, and if so, how? What part will the existing deities play - if they have a part to play at all? What will be the ultimate fate of Eiran and its mortal people?

As usual, feel free to write the eschatology of Eiran as you wish - as a dialogue, or the way it would be written on the deity's Codex, or as a tale, or any other way: the theme is fixed, but how you develop it is up to you.

Each contestant will then receive a boost to his or her number of worshipers, depending on the votes his or her eschatology will receive.

EDIT:

So, the gods whose eschatologies are eligible for voting are:

Argothoth
Astavyastataa Kadna
Bhakti
Jove
Lord Adomorn
Nor Yekith
Simjen
Undine
Vadhaka Chorah

The voting procedure is quite simple. Every player in the Pantheon game (even if he or she hasn't taken part in the contest) can choose three of the eschatologies, in order of preference from highest to lowest, and send me an email or a PM containing these preferences. Voting is to be secret, so please do not announce who you voted for, be it through the comments thread or PMs. The first eschatology in order of preference receives 1 vote, the second receives half a vote, and the third receives a quarter of a vote.

Voting will last until wednesday, to give players enough time to re-read the eschatologies multiple times, if needed, as well as to give all players the chance to partecipate, even if they do not log on daily. The deadline for voting will therefore be Wednesday, June 20th, 10 pm GMT time. After that, I will be posting the names of the authors of the three most-voted eschatologies, and each contestant will receive a boost in their number of worshipers depending on the amount of votes received (although all contestants will receive a prize, even if they do not receive any votes).

Incidentally, this increase in worshipers will not necessarily be tied to the turn's end, so it might actually happen mid-turn.

A copy of the voting guidelines is also posted in the post which introduced the contest, for ease of reference.

[Argothoth]

... and they shall see a day of darkness.
the moon and the sun will be united forever, they never will be separated again. Darkness will reign over all.
Trees will die, the rivers will dry. There will be no rain again, nor wind, no sea or volcanoes.
Eiran will no longer throb, change, live. The lifeblood that permeates the world will be drained to the last drop.
What will be left for the living?
Nothing.
Emptiness will embrace the earth in its timeless embrace. Time itself will stop flowing and all will remain in an eternal present.
which is the message of hope?
which is the message of our god?
In the day of darkness, Argothoth will be among us as light in the endless black.
the gift given to us will allow us to survive.
The Undead do not need water. The Undead do not need air. The Undead do not need seas, sun or moon.
Argothoth taught us to survive forever, he gave us his holy blessing to make us able to survive the end of the time, the end of the world.
How can they be so blind? The way is before them! They need only to embrace it!
A world without Time, a world without diseases, suffering, death and destruction. Peace, harmony, endless knowledge.
After the end of the eras, after the end of Time, the world will exist for those who had understood which is the true essence of existence.
Life will have no meaning, Death will have no meaning.
Eternity will be the only truth of this world.

Words of the Prophet Valkoren

[Simjen]

The Tome of the Forge
Book LXIV
The Dengar Prophecy : Being the final writing of Dengar Ithenston, first High priest of Zamara, lost at sea during the summer storm of The Third Year of Simjen's Return

The final days of Eiran come
And they will be of fire
With heavy heart, I must make known
This prophecy most dire

A harbinger of time drawn near
The Yekith Star will fall
Take heed! Take heed! The earth will bleed
And strong men made to crawl

While unbeknownst to god or man
The ancient binding fails
Come from shadows and crevices
The evil of old tales

The gods unite, a fearsome sight
Grievances left aside
Together they combine their will
To stem the loathesome tide

Mournfully, The Crafter leads
A charge against their heart
So mightily his fire burns
That e'en the heavens part

And thus does Eiran still yet live
But thus it starts to die
A truly pyrhic victory
Despite what they may try

A grief so great, this final fate
That even gods despair
Their leave they take, and in their wake
Are mortals left to fare

The Allfather, true to his oath
Draws closed the godly game
But in their minds, the players craft
How best to play again

[Astavyastataa Kadna]

The CODEX of the OMEGA – RENEWAL

She walks into the room, at first sight not an imposing figure. Your eye is drawn to her, first by her petite shapely figure and beauty seen at a distance. However, when she walks closer … her eyes, cold and piercing … her aura of Chaos and Destruction palpable … and the Sword strapped to her back that emanates death - announces her identity. She is Kalpa, prophet of Lord Astavyastataa Kadna – the master of CHAOS and DESTRUCTION.

Kalpa gazes at each FAVORED. She notes who meets her gaze with strength but obedience and who shies from eye contact. She is pleased that only one falls into the latter category … and he is dead before she passes him. She watches as the others nod in agreement and satisfaction. There is no place for the weak amongst the FAVORED.

Her voice rises, “FAVORED, you are privileged to serve existence itself – because without Destruction there can be no renewal. You have studied the CODEX of the OMEGA – hear now that which is only shared with you. And understand the sacred importance of your service!”

“It has happened before – the Grand cycle that teaches S(He) who is ALL. The ending of each cycle starts simply enough. On one world … any world really, but perhaps Eiran … the sign of OMEGA. A flying creature … perhaps a white doves you see in the rafters … will fall from the sky. And you will feel a change in the ether; if you are sensitive, and if you extend your mind to its farthest reaches. For she who is SISTER to Chaos … will tire … and her sigh of exhaustion – first heard by that one flying creature -will change the cosmos. And the one that falls will announce the change. And she will speak to our Lord – ‘Brother, I have Ordered for so long … I have pushed the expansion of realities for so long … it is time. The cycle must turn … I cede dominance to Destruction … you my Brother are now first!’ And with that … our Lord will withdraw … to the center of ALL and reach out his embrace … and the expansion will reverse … he will call all to the Maelstrom … and reality will contract. By our time reckoning this will take Eons. Ahhh … but the CHAOS, the DESTRUCTION will be ecstatic. Think of it FAVORED!! Star systems colliding into each other! Supernovae!! Galaxies crashing into galaxies … the mad structured rush of creation will collapse until all is consumed by the Maelstrom – in preparation for the next grand cycle to begin!!

Heed my words … we MUST serve our Lord well. If the cycle is disrupted … expansion will continue unabated. Lady Order will still tire … and all will spread … forever. With Order exhausted reality will thin, stagnate. Life itself will cease! And still the expansion will continue. Without Structure, matter will reduce to molecules … and then atoms … all denatured … spread thinly … and Reality will be entropy - Forever!

It is our sacred duty to serve our Lord – so that his holy, eternal duty continues … and along with it – all existence!!”

[Bhakti]

"Wiri? Will Yek or Astalavista destroy Eiran?"

"Possibly, child. But if not either of them, then something else will. The cycle of Nature demands it. All things end so that others can begin. All things begin so that others can end. Some day - Bhakti willing, it will be in the far distant future - Eiran will be no more."

"But Wiri..." the child said, with tears in her eyes, "I cannot bear the thought of Shakari being no more! Shakari is Beauty and Love like nothing else in the universe! It must not be destroyed!"

"Have no fear, Loved one. Do you remember the origin of our Forest's name?"

"Yes. Bhakti has told us it is a word from a star-faring race in another reality, and means 'Eden.'"

"Yes, child. You have learned your lessons well." Smiling, Wiri strokes the student's hair. "But Shakari is not Eden only here on Eiran. When Eiran dies, Shakari will live! Bhakti will preserve the Love and Health of our glorious Forest, and take it to a new planet! In his Love and Wisdom, Bhakti has created an Eden that will be a chain, going from one place to another, to another, to another. It will grow in a unique way each time, depending on the conditions of each planet. But it will always be Shakari! It will live on until the end of all things, when all of reality returns to the Primal State of Infinite Love!"

"Wiri!" the girl cried in wonder and joy. "What a beautiful plan! Our Forest will ensure that Love and Health are spread throughout all the universe! Praise Bhakti!"

"Indeed, child! Praise Bhakti!"

[stonemaybe]

“How The World Will End” a fun Learn-To-Read book for ages 4 to 6, by Suf-j.

(cover)


Elidine was playing with the slugs.

He wasn’t supposed to be.

He’d swum away from mummy.

Elidine was always swimming off on his own.

Mummy was always worrying.

When you are the half-divine offspring of the god of the seas, there is so much fun to be had!


Elidine had peaked into mummy’s diary and read about the glowing slugs, but Elidine hadn’t believed the story.




He did think it would be an ADVENTURE to try to find them.

So he’d swum and swum and swum and swum and there they were!

After watching for a while, Elidine was getting bored.

So he picked up a slug and gave it a ‘chinese burn’.




That was no fun, so he threw a rock at another one.



He waved his hands so the currents flipped over one of the slugs.



That was fun, so he did it again.



By now Elidine was getting hungry.
Mmmm. Tasty.



OOPS!

[Mistress Cathy]

"......and as the last one remained once again triumphant, the voices of Eiran stilled from the crying and screaming for they new the end had come."

She laid the open book on her lap and at last looked up at her audience.

"But they seem to never learn, do they?" one young cherub asked.

She thought about her answer.

"They learn to be better than they were."

She needed rest for she had been reading for a long, long time. She had read about the conflict between the Dwarrors and the god of War. She read about the marriage of the god of love to the goddess of wealth and commerce. She had read the story of the Star of Yekith and the god of the undead. She spoke of dragons and destruction. She read of wars and the end of Eiran.

But there were more questions from these young ones who had no experience.

"Why then does it always end this way?" another one asked. "They don't seem to learn to be any better than they were before."

"All existence is learning," she replied, "and although some gods strive for peace and harmony, there are always those gods who want to force their will on others. Those are the gods that suffer from too much pride and too much anger. They are not willing to share the bounty of the world but want it selfishly all to themselves."

She paused for a moment, waiting for another question from the young group that surrounded her. Seeing that her words had made them all stop to ponder, she took the opportunity to end the history lesson.

"Alright, then. I will see you all later."

When they made no move to go, she insisted with a "shoo" to emphasize her words.

They all disappeared, some deep in thought, some with a smile and a wave.

She looked down at the open book, the last page at last finished. Jove closed the book and as she did so, all life on Eiran ended.

[Benito Alvarez]

The Nightmare.

A black cloud moved across the sky. Everything within sight had turned into a blank and staring wasteland. Soaring trees had shriveled into little more than desiccated shrubs, as if some force had sucked all nutrient and lushness out. The dirt itself was blasted, and Adomorn had trouble seeing how even the shrubs could survive off of such land. He looked to the south, but all remained the same, but for a small light shining dimly on the horizon.

He scrunched his eyes and could make out naught but a little color. It seemed as if the light was scintillating through the span of all colors. It also moved a bit from side to side, as if spinning on a top.

Adomorn moved slowly to the south. He felt faintly ill, as if separated from his body. A strange feeling a bit like vertigo, and not at all pleasant. In fact he nearly threw up if he looked upward. Instead of what he expected, a blasted sky much like the blasted earth, the sky seemed to spiral inward like a funnel. At the center was….nothing. In fact it was worse than nothing. The hole seemed a ravenous beast, wanting nothing more than to devour the earth itself. It seemed as if nothing would make it happier than to leave a hole where the beautiful land used to be.

Adomorn flinched in pain. A burning slash ran across the underside of his foot. He looked down at himself. He was naked except for his scabbard, pitted with rust, and long overdue for a good oiling. He was soon standing in a puddle of his own blood running from his foot. This land would not allow his blood to clot, in fact it would infect much faster than would be entirely healthy. Adomorn had no idea how he knew this but he did. To make things worse, the land ahead had a glassy look to it. As if the dirt itself had been superheated, and left for a razor sharp runway of obsidian. The light was that way, and there was no way around.

He steeled himself for the thing that needed doing. Within a hundred paces, he could no longer discern his feet from the bottom of his legs. Strips of flesh hung all the way from his mid calf, and blanked his mind from anything but the pain. His flesh was pale with blood loss, but the light was so close! If only he could make it a bit closer….

Adomorn woke up at the bottom of a glassy bowl. His feet were gone, left with nothing but stumps from the knee down. His hand was slashed to the bone from his tumble. He could see where he fell down the enclosure by the blood trail. He was sitting in a perfectly smooth bowl, formed it seemed, from the same glass of before, only unbroken. In the middle sat what he came for, a scintillating prism of the purest glass. It gave off varying colors of the spectrum, and always in the same pattern.

As he looked at it, he could feel himself slipping away, closer downward into the death sleep of bloodless. As he spiraled downward, he could see the light focusing itself into scenes. He saw himself and other fighters for the right leading a last attack against a dark and malicious force. He and his Allies were vastly outnumbered and surrounded. Above them all was the face in the sky, smiling as he watched his children slaughter the defenders of justice. Adomorn was left naked and wiped of all memory on the ground to awake when the entities work was done. At so it was. Justice had failed. Evil has taken over the Existence. Death had run rampant, leaving the souls of the fallen to walk aimlessly for eternity. What was left of natural life had been blasted and changed into little more than to be laughed at by the Evil.

Laughing was exactly what Adomorn heard now. Laughter at him and his friends for trying to stop what was inevitable.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Adomorn woke up screaming. He remembered what had happened, in his dream. He wasn’t sure if it was truly a dream or fore-seeing, but Adomorn was certain of one thing. He would stop the Blasting from happening at all costs.

He would never allow such a fate to come to the earth.