The Spark of Creation (God Game)(IC Roleplaying Thread) Apr 15, 2020 8:15:08 GMT
Post by flayedchicken123 on Apr 15, 2020 8:15:08 GMT
------Before the Beginning------
Across the stygian murk of the yawning void, there was nothing save the antediluvian expanse of silent all-consuming stillness that was, yet is, and when all ages have passed, will be again as the transcendent All fades away. This early on the notion of context is alien, no space to be bent, no time to pass, for eternity and a day, no-one and no-thing held sway. Then, as had come before and may come again, non-existence yielded to the triumphant flare of a single monolithic expression of Being so pure and powerful it could be described as none other than the Spark of Creation in the absence of darkness. Its origin is arbitrary, retroactive, and self-evident, its machinations inconceivable to even a transcendent overmind but the weight of its presence undeniable. A Spark is no more than a speck of dust without fuel and a watchful eye to tend the flames, and so it is that the First of Many came. Either born anew in ascension by its emergence or awakened from the faint, vanishing memory of a world that was and would never be again, each bore a fraction of its potential, what would be world sundering power in ages to come, with it, their deific hand would stoke the flames and determine what shape they would take.
Throughout the abyss a faint echo resounds, upending the oppressing weight of stillness and substituting a strange, new sensation in its wake. Thrumming and reverberating in concerto to an orchestra of instruments not yet made, the stubborn darkness is buckled and rent aside to give way to a resplendent light that refuses to die. Almost infantile and wreathed in spheric gold, cradling a conductor's rod, eyes closed in sync to the symphony; so it was that Aré-Nylied, the Conductor, Musica Universalis, God of Order, Music, and Life came into being.
Roused by the clamor, at first impression near-discordant but on further reflection akin to a tapestry woven of sound, a distant awareness is brought to turn its contemplation inward. There is no visible or tangible change in the emptiness, nor is it likely such would ever change, but that the resolute expanse kindled by the Spark's initial ember had emerged and was to stay could not be denied; so it was that Vishan, The Lord of Beyond, The First, The Lord of Forms, The Eternal Blue Sky, The Final Frontier, The End of Nothing and Everything, God of the Upper Sky, Borders, and Cosmos came into being.
Shuddering as the music came to fade, a howling wind overtook the pitch, whistling as it grew to a mighty gale, taking umbrage with the thought that such could go on in perpetuity. From the eye of the storm there molted from the skein of the void a dull grayed skull in bull's shape, replete with luminescent fungi on its right side, bearing a rack of horns nigh unto rusted bronze churned forth amid an unseen stew of gusty froth; so it was that Mirtis, The Omega, The Winds of Change, the God of Decay, Death, and Wind came into being.
Then, the song came to cease, leaving naught in its aftermath but a vague dissatisfaction churning in the blackened murk, dreaming of what was and could yet be again. Pulsing in perpetual flux, the shadows took a form which then claimed its own, changing from one moment to the next, never the same and lurking below, avariciously conceiving such wonders and terrors as none other dared devise; so it was that Phorys, Blackfish, Dreamer in the Depths, The Protean, God of Deep Waters, Dark Places, and Dreams came into being.
Finally, the symphony with no audience to bear witness was no more, but where the memory began to fade, a divergence came, some say two sprung from one source, others that one was sundered into two never again to rejoin, in disagreement of thought they fell into a schism and where unity could have been, only lasting division lingered. Two were they, each the elder and the younger, the former seeing the parts forming the composition and claiming the sum of their works, the latter sensing the pattern of the preeminent piece and seeking to master their knowledge; so it was that Schematicos, The Grim Puppeteer, Heaven's Trickster, The Divine Facilitator, the God of Time, Plots, and Patience was joined by Sjardic, The Calculator, The Grand Librarian, the God of Knowledge, Time, and Fate as both came into being.
These were the Primordial Gods, and they numbered six. The Spark of Creation beckoned, begging each to explain their vision, yet every one knew, down to the deepest portion of their essence that if reality was to be made, it was to be cohesion with each decision they made, measured on a precarious balance, lack of unison as they planned the fundamental architecture could be catastrophic or perhaps, preferable. The Spark of Creation was theirs and theirs alone to shape, but whether they would devise a grand work to hold steadfast through the passage of ages remained to be seen.
The Spark of Creation crackled in silence, waiting to see which of its stewards would be the first to speak.
------So It Was That The All Began------
------So It Was That The All Began------