And mountains rose up from out of the earth and were worn down by weather and time. And Mother Sea brought forth life in many forms, and some of the creatures of Mother Sea came up upon the dry face of Father Earth in search of a dwelling place. And time and place altered them there upon the face of Father Earth, and many were those alterations. Forms not seen before emerged, and older forms died out as the creatures blindly groped for fulfillment.
Now the gods of the Land of Dhrall chose not to interfere in the growth and development of the creatures of their Domains, for they wisely concluded that the creatures should follow their own course in response to the world around them. For truly, the world is in a constant state of flux, and a creature suitable for one era may well not survive in another, and the gods had come to realize that change must be a response to the world rather than some divine preconception.
And constant time continued her stately march toward an end that none could know, and the cycles of labor and rest among the gods continued even as Mother Sea and Father Earth watched, but said nothing.
Now the gods of the land of Dhrall have divided the land, and each, younger or elder, holds dominion over a certain portion of the land. There remains, however, a vast Wasteland in the center that is not part of any of the four Domains, be they East or West, North or South, for the Wasteland of Dhrall is barren and without beauty. There is life there, however, but the life-forms of the Wasteland are unlike those of the rest of the Land of Dhrall. The legends of Dhrall maintain that the life-forms of the Wasteland are the creations of That-Called-the-Vlagh.
The legends of Dhrall are uncertain as to the origins of the Vlagh. Some maintain that it is no more than a nightmare which one of the early gods experienced during that first long sleep. Other legends contend that the Vlagh is vastly older than the gods whose forms resemble those of humans, and that it was the lord of stinging insects and venomous reptiles which have long since vanished from the faces of Mother Sea and Father Earth. All legends of Dhrall agree on one point, however. That-Called-the-Vlagh was too impatient to give the creatures which served it sufficient time to follow the slow, natural process of development and alteration favored by the true gods of Dhrall, but rather it chose to manipulate their development so that they might better serve it.
And it came to the Vlagh that its servants might be of greater value if they were not all the same, for a creature designed for one task and one only would be far more efficient than a more generalized creature.
To achieve that end, the Vlagh periodically enveloped itself in a woven cocoon in its dark nest in the center of the Wasteland, and when it emerged from its cocoon, it was a creature of an entirely different aspect than it had been before. Then it tested the capabilities of its new form to determine its ability to perform its specific task, noting its strengths and weaknesses. And then once again it enclosed itself in the cocoon, and when it emerged once more, the weaknesses were no longer there and the strengths had been enhanced.
Thus by experimentation, That-Called-the-Vlagh altered and modified its own form to develop a highly specific creature. And once it was satisfied, it reproduced that creature by the thousands so that it would have servants enough to achieve its ultimate goal.
Then That-Called-the-Vlagh returned to its nest and began again, creating yet another form for yet another specific task.
And so it is that all of the varied creatures which emerge from the cocoon of the Vlagh are not the creatures of the Domains of the true gods of Dhrall, but rather are strange combinations, part insect, part reptile, part warm-blooded animal, and each of these variations has a specific task in its service to the ruler of the Wasteland.
The one and only characteristic the creatures of the Wasteland share is an obsessive need to expand the Domain of the ruler of the Wasteland until the entirety of the Land of Dhrall lies in its grasp. For truly, That-Called-the-Vlagh hungers ultimately to rule the world.
And the Vlagh sent forth many of its creatures to intrude themselves into the Domains of the true gods of Dhrall, and carried those intruders back to the Vlagh everything which they had observed. And the Vlagh considered each tiny nibble of truth which its servants brought to it, and after eons uncounted, it perceived a flaw during the transfer of power and authority from one generation of gods unto the next.
For truly, the elder gods grew weary and forgetful as they longed for sleep; and the younger gods were yet only half awake.
And the spirit of the Vlagh was filled with evil joy at this revelation. And laid it then its plans and marshaled its servants in preparation for a war whereby it could surely destroy the true gods of Dhrall. And there in the Wasteland it dreamed of the day when it would come to rule the entirety of the Land of Dhrall. And once Dhrall lay securely in its grasp, it could reach forth and claim other lands as well, and all in good time would it come to possess the world. And all creatures great and small would bow down before it, and it would assume its rightful place as ruler of all the world, and its reign would last forever and ever, and all power would lie in its hands.
And the spirit of the Vlagh rejoiced.
Now Mother Sea and Father Earth paid scant heed to the antics of any gods of any lands, and neither did they sleep, for to them fell the task of maintaining the life of the creatures of earth and sea, and woe to him, human or divine, who threatens the perpetuation of life. For gentle though they may appear, Mother Sea and Father Earth have disasters beyond imagining at their disposal, should such appear necessary for the continuation of life.
Now it came to pass long ago in the Domain of the North that a half-mad hermit had a vision of that which would one day become reality, and in that vision he saw sleeping children whose dreams could thwart the designs of That-Called-the-Vlagh, for the dreams could command, and Mother Sea and Father Earth could not disobey the commands of the Dreamers.
And most men of the Land of Dhrall scoffed at the vision of the hermit, for his madness was clearly evident. But the Gods of East and West, North and South, scoffed not, for the hermit’s vision resounded deep within their souls, and they knew it to be true. And troubled were the true gods of the Land of Dhrall, for they knew in their hearts that the arrival of the Dreamers would change all the world, and nothing thereafter would ever be the same again.
And the eons, as eons must, plodded on toward an uncertain future, and the younger gods grew older, and the cycle of their ascendency neared its conclusion.
And it is here that our story begins.
* Excerpted from ‘The Land of Dhrall,’ a study by the Comparative Theology Department of the University of Kaldacin.
Zelana of the West had grown weary of the brutish man-creatures of her Domain. She found them repulsive, and their endless complaints and demands irritated her beyond measure. They seemed to believe that she lived only to serve them, and that offended her.
And so it was that she turned her back on them and sojourned for several eons on the Isle of Thurn, which lies off the coast of her Domain. And there she communed with Mother Sea and entertained herself by composing music and creating poetry.
Now the waters around the Isle of Thurn are the home of a rare breed of pink dolphins, and Zelana found them to be playful and intelligent, and in time she came to look upon them not as pets, but rather as dear companions. She soon learned to understand – and to speak – their language, and they gave her much information about Mother Sea and the many creatures that lived in Mother’s depths and along her