First, you were home. Everything was as it had been. Then, you were here. There was no fanfare, there was nothing. Just, a sudden pain in your chest, before you appeared within a ring of others. On your person there was nothing except for some bread. In the center of the circle of people, was an alter. Golds and blues lavishly thrown together. And at the altar, is a chest. With enough book and quills for you all. You grab one, and it states;
"Salutations, My dear players,
Many of you do not know of me, and that is alright. You have been gathered from your own worlds, your homes, with one purpose only. Kill the Glitch. I care not for how it is done, I only care that he is dead. Whomever brings his head back to this altar, shall win a prize worth more then any amount of gold of jewels.
God of Creation,
Deimos"
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In the beginning, there was nothing. A vast empty plain of stars and unfiltered magic. Of horrors so cosmic in nature that no god would even try to describe them to a mortal mind. And from the darkness, bore the Night. He was the first, the only. He found the voids magic, and knew what he must do in order to create anything within this empty sky. He filtered the dark magic through his own body, became one within it. And he used the magic to create islands within space.
From the islands, he made creatures. Tall, blackened bodies that warped and warbled. Ment to speak the same language as he and yet... he was unable. So then, He took the vastness, as he had dubbed it, and created the nether. The islands exact opposite. Dense, hot, and at first filled only with ghosts and the undead. He hadnt ment to make them so, he ment to give them full life, full sentience, but he kept failing.
The vastness grew dissapointed in its creation, and thus another was born. The Day, and Night envied him so deeply. As the new god was instructed to begin filtering the dark magic. And through his body it became pure. Magic that had once been a unnatural purple hue, now glowed greens and reds and yellows. The Day made the first world. hand crafted it with an inexperienced touch. And on the planet was greens, blues, yellows, the whole light spectrum condensed into one gods paintbrush. And from the days light, bore animals. Cows, wolves, sheep. His first attempt at sentience, however? Was you, the player. He took the energy of magic, and with love he created the first too players.
Alex and Steve.
And the vastness loved them. Loved to watch them grow and interact. The attempts at creation in their own right was almost laughable to them. And then the players grew. Created more players, inhabited the world. And from the players, spawned Blood and War. Two young goddesses the vastness never made. It was infuriated.
The war goddesses would spend their younger years in gruesome fights. For hours a day they fought by sword, each unwilling to give, each unwilling to break. As the winner would get to dictate how the players fought. The Day grew sorrowful, hating to see these young deities in such constant turmoil. After a full days sparing, the young goddesses were beaten, bloodied, and in pain. And while one was left to lick their own wounds, the Day shone his magic upon the other, the more docile of the two.
As the next day rolled around, Blood met with War. Wars wounds were healed, by the light of Day's love. And Blood was furious. The fighting was fierce, it was angry and hateful. Swords clashed against one another, fists met skin, teeth met bone. But Blood had lost this fight far before it started. And upon its defeat, War had won. War had cheated, used favors to get what she desired. and Blood decided that if its sister could cheat so cruely, then it, too, could do the same.
And so Blood and War became opposing. Players given the knowledge of strategy and war. And as the players grew, so too did the gods. They grew and learned their powers with them. And the players began to bestow names upon their loving gods.
