Tale of Creation (book)

The Tale of Creation

Mountain and cavern, ice and fire, stone and metal: these were the substance of Elanthia's past, these were the shapes into which it was poured by God of the Gods, Kertigen All- Father. Forgemaster claimed it, first work from his forge. Broke he the mold so that lesser gods could not imitate his efforts.

Across the skin and through the belly of Elanthia, Kertigen traveled. Everywhere he looked, everywhere he felt pleasure. Kindly Forgemaster took much pride in his work, wishing to share his efforts with others; knew better he than to invite the lesser gods, envious grumblers at greater deeds!

Then Kertigen took the finest of gems, gathered the hardest and sweetest of metals. Grasped he the snow from the tallest of mountains, and molten stone from rivers of iron that run deep beneath the crust of the world. These he combined, these he molded, these he sang into an essence of life.

Thus Kertigen the Mighty created the first Dwarf. Looked it did upon its creator; looked it did, long and hard, as the sun rose and fell many, many times over. "I am Dabrush," the first Dwarf said when looking was finished. "What needs doing?" Short speech and desire for action pleased the Great God, Far- Reaching Kertigen; gave he to Dabrush many gifts, the axe Nimeols, the helm Gard, a host of willing followers.

Through the power of gleaming Gard, Dabrush and his people no cold did bite nor heat did singe as they traveled across Elanthia, marveling at its beauty. Through the help of wondrous Nimeols they conquered the perils that Kertigen had set about his work as a warning and a threat to the lesser gods, not to interfere.

Kertigen All-Father never grew angered at his fine children, the Dwarven kindred. Pride shown from him like a beacon, a beacon that burned bright for twelve hundred years. But in time the Forgemaster grew very weary, laboring mightily, tiring greatly. Peri'el sang to him; softly her voice called him; siren's voice it was, gently calling him to slumber. Then Kertigen his mighty hammer Slagnar set aside, his fires he banked; his apron he gave in keeping to clever Tralen, raven and trusted counselor. His cares he gave to Peri'el, and Kertigen turned his thoughts and steps to sleep.

The lesser gods, envious were they, envious but dreading great Kertigen's power. Now, though, he lay asleep. As one they rose, as one they looked upon this world of Elanthia. Some came to mock, and some to appraise. All left impressed. Each god swore a secret oath in heart's heart to seek in its own way the path of Kertigen, doing the Great Work, each to its own true nature.

Greatly daring though fiercely fearing, the lesser gods approached the forge of Kertigen and restarted its fires. Slagnar resisted their efforts; Slagner they could not wield; but the minor tools of Kertigen All-Father rose to their magicks, heeding their spells.

Meraud Wolffriend first sought to perform the task of fashioning another Elanthia. But luck mocked Meraud, fortune turned from him, his wisdom gaped empty and all for naught. On Kertigen's forge only red, feckless Yavash did Meraud design. Flung it he did into the aether where to this day it hangs, mocking the Magicwielder who drew away, brooding.

Next was Damaris, soft and steathy his steps. Great cunning was his, and agility, too, but the forge of Kertigen his cunning resisted. No new Elanthia could he fashion. Katamba, dark as the shadows, Pantherwalk created, and kicked it from his presence into the skies with an oath.

Not in such manner did fair Faenella approach the forge. Disdained she the tools, the weapons of Kertigen, as she called the Forgemaster's instruments. Instruments had she, and these she employed: rebecs and citterns, lyres and reed pipes, psalteries, bells, vihuelas and tabors. Singing her epics, Songstress conjured a world to her liking; but all she created was sterile Xibar, pretty but empty, cold, clear jewel of the sky and the tides.

The other gods marveled, and pondered their actions. Then up spoke Huldah, soft-voiced and shrewd:

"Meraud, Damaris and Faenella have failed. Lifeless their efforts, but why should we worry? A world lies created; a world for our using. Elanthia I speak of! Great Kertigen, mighty his sight, lies sunken, bemused, in dream. Let us enter his world and make it ours, fill it with creatures that bow to our efforts!"

All the gods took cheer at these words. Praised they Goldtongue and bespoke him highly; each departed for Elanthia, high in spirits and great in pride.

Truffenyi Oxgoad first arrived, filled with zeal to mimic All- Father. The quiet Plowman uttered words, he shook his robe; he shook his locks of blackly silvered hair. Rain he shook out and mountains he melted, pastures were created, and seedlings, too. Wheatfields sprang where he walked. From the mud beneath his feet Truffenyi molded Humans. They hailed him, building cities and traveling everywhere, fighting and talking endlessly. Thus Treffenyi invaded Kertigen's world, and made it his own.

Then Truffenyi looked up, the Oxgoad glanced at the sky, frowning. Large storm clouds he saw, huge clouds that gathered and rained entire lakes and seas! From within the waters appeared Lemicus Seabreeze, the Lodestone Maker, summoning forth her children, the Elves, who formed from the droplets she sprayed upon shores. There they worshipped her, there they adored her. All manner of fish and swimming creatures she created, too, turning Kertigen's world into her own.

But from the oceans deep arose a voice, that of Eluned Wisdomruler. Light she called, a strange, eldritch light, and something that came of her lore and great knowledge. Cloaked in mist stood her children upon land, Eluned's blue sons and daughters, the Eloth, breathing in mana and even then thinking of how they might master the greatest of magics, build the tallest of cities to house their dark secrets.

Then it was that a shadow blotted even the seas of Lemicus, the oceans of Eluned; and a giant hand reached up from within the earth, slowly pulling down some mountains until they were hills, nestled and protected, green and hospitable. At that, laughing Saemaus Lovesong sprang forth from the good ground; Saemaus Feaster flung tarts upon the soil; tarts that expanded as they baked under the sun, becoming Halflings, children of the burrows, sharp-eyed, smiling, deft-fingered worshippers of the Gentle Merrymaker. Lemicus shrugged, Eluned stared and Truffenyi grinned at Saemaus' silliness, but this god, too, made Kertigen's world into his own.

More of the lesser gods came to Elanthia, changing its features, forming new life. But Huldah Spitebiter was last of them all; Trickster Huldah traveled silently. Like a flame he flickered brightly, swiftly scaling land and aethyr, swimming deep in drowning rivers while he sought the threads of life that Sleeping All-Father Kertigen and others had wrought. There he twisted, warping weave to suit his nature. Creatures made to warn off lesser gods now the gods ignored altogether. They attacked all mortal races, warring on themselves and others-- Dwarves included.

So it was for many years until Kertigen the Mighty came awake, refreshed from sleeping his deep slumber. Imagine his surprise, imagine his horror, when All-Father saw his great work, knew how well the lesser gods had changed it! At first he thought to destroy it all, rend the pieces and send them hurling upon the hateful heads of Elanthia's defilers; but kindness leaped upon his brow when he beheld once more his sturdy children, the Dwarven race, holding true to the olden values. To them he renewed the ancient pledges of mountain fast and cavern deep. He blew on their beards and congealed jewels from freezing moisture. He strengthened their courage and great good sense, knowing they'd have much peril to face in ages still to come.

Then Kertigen called to all his lesser kindred. Kertigen sang a song of iron and silver, of steel and fire; he made metal watchful, gave eyesight to vigilance. Kertigen created the World Dragon itself, terrible sentinel to keep lesser gods from prying further in the troubled world of Elanthia. But yet it is said that some of the lesser gods had already created after their own vicious thoughts out of sight, in the dark minding while Kertigen All-Father slept, and that their venom has yet to be seen.