LevROLL

 Once, there were four Gods. One was a being of absolute creation and they called him Life. Another was a being of immutable fate; they named him Deathbringer. A third was a king of order and law and so they crowned him Vanguard. The final god was a summoner of chaos and anarchy and they gave him the name Harbinger. These primordial Gods had no form, no body. They existed beyond, before and without, long before time and light and sound; long before the world They moved through motionless space as consciousnesses. Eventually, after countless ageless eons had passed, these four came together and brought forth the first true life of the vast Hol

So dark the soul by day Or by night Whether blood was spilt to flee  To save, to sacrifice, to win Or merely fight  Choosing not between foe and kin There will always be quaint fear to see   Terrible demons to slay Or greater plight  So these paths all fall to men To kill and die and spread this mortal plague Or embrace delight

I've never wanted to escape from who I am but, at the same time, that man has never particularly pleased me either. He is cowardly, slovenly and admittedly a little dull; and this is simply me singing his praises. He is indecisive and afraid, not of one thing but of all of things. He is duplicitous and a fool, the only person he truly deceives being himself. The one battleground from which he would most like to flee is the one he can never truly forget or be rid of: himself. The scars he bears come self-inflicted and self-described. Few people would know it to look upon him as the few scars that do mar his flesh are old now; everything that

 Huge tongues of fire lapped slowly at the pinnacle of the vaulted steel dome, long since having seared the dome black. Slits in concentric circles along the dome billowed smoke from the flame out into the gray sky beyond. The fire, set in a glowing bronze basin larger around than a tree, danced hypnotically. Strange colors shimmered through the air in hues of green and orange and red, wavering with the twisting, meandering flow of the flames. Ringed around the basin was a series of men sitting cross-legged, undaunted by the heat of the fire. A chorus of low chants reverberated in the dome, each man observing the flame reciting his own dist

 In the center of our fair city there lies a tower, a tower older than time and taller than the sky. It juts out into the clouds, beyond the range of any man's vision no matter how far he might crane his neck to gaze upon it. It's base is wide and consumes much land, so large that a man may not walk all the way around it even given seven days time. This tower has been given many names, too many names to recount given any reasonable amount of time. But to we of this great city, we of God's chosen, it is known simply as The Tower. To call it by anything more would invite disaster beyond even what it is capable of now. Our people live long liv

I1: How do you feel today? S: Angry. I1: And why are you angry? S: Why shouldn't I be angry? I1: What causes your anger? S: Life. Love. Family. Friendship. The color "red." The color "blue." *Pauses* Questions. I1: Where does this irrational anger come from? S: Experience. I1: Do you have, or can you feel, any other emotions? S: When I get out of here, I'm going to rip in you half with my own two hands. I1: I repeat. Do you have or can you- S: And I'm going to enjoy it. I1 leaves. I2 enters. I2: Are you feeling violent today? S: No more than any other day. I2: You know that your anger won't ever abate the pain that you feel. S

 Vertraj, Lord of Knowledge. The Master of Promises, the Arbiter of Power, the Scholar-God. The Pact, the Oath, the Covenant, the Mage-King. The All-Knowing, the Seer of the True Path, the Librarian of the Void. The Vast Book, the Blind Eye, the Knowledge Eater. The Erudite Oblivion, the Great Perception, the Final Prognostication, the Uncomprehending. These names are just a few of the endless titles granted to the ancient deity Vertraj, a being commonly placed as the Lord of Knowledge. Much time has passed since any such god has been actively worshiped and, coupled with the Purges, most of what we know now of this idol comes from conjectur

 There were four of them that so tainted our world, tore it apart. Told our planet to sunder itself. They were leaders, fancying themselves more gods than men. It was for that very reason they sought the relic in all its primordial glory. They found it too late. The artifact was long since tainted. Or, perhaps, he was the taint. For there was one long before them who wished to use its might to twist the world more to his liking. He failed and, they say, The World consumed him. Perhaps their predecessor was the corruption that caused those who sought its power to contort and transform. Or, just maybe, the artifact was the only pure thing i