I wish I could say I dislike some of my roles as Highfather. Or more accurately, the gods I have to serve. I cannot. Part of the magic that changes which god I serve every year, also in some respect changes me. It doesn’t make me a tyrant, if I happen to be the archpriest of Tyroc, the god of war, storms, and destruction for example. However, I can admit I’m more prone to acts of destruction when under his power. As I am vehemently opposed to it when I serve Tadalaar, the goddess of life. A less flexible mind would likely break under such constant change. I think only those whose moral compasses tend towards neutrality, rather than law or chaos, good or evil make for effective Highfathers. As it is, I am currently a Strifelord, in the service of Lassik, the God of Strife.
I’m currently sitting in the high priest’s office at Gloommaul, a small temple dedicated to Torgash, the god of conquest and battle, I find myself with plenty of time to think and pen my tomes. As you may recall, sometime ago I decided to write a treatise on each of the gods I serve to provide greater insight to their followers. As I have yet to receive a divine rebuke about my work, I shall continue.
As you may or may not be aware, Lassik, is a lesser god under his patron, Tyroc. Along with Torgash the god of battle and conquest, the three gods are known as the Engines of Destruction. “On paper” as businessmen like to say, the thre gods and their followers get along quite well, as their goals tend to follow along the same lines. Lassik, or his followers, may spark a little “disagreement” between two tribes. The escalation could lead to outright fighting between the two. Torgash, as the god of battle, will benefit from the fighting, and will often offer to bless the victor. Which still serves him. Tyroc being the god of war and storms and all. The bigger the conflict the more power flows to him. Since he “acquired” the portfolio of destruction from a fire elemental prince, any destruction the conflict causes, also increases his power.
As an aside, it should be noted that all three gods: gods of strife, conquest, and war were once the same tier at one time. That is they were all lesser gods. The three conspired to kill the aforementioned elemental prince and share the portfolio of destruction. Oh, don’t shake your head like you understand the workings of the divine. Even the most noble of the gods wouldn’t hesitate to acquire more power if the opportunity and the rationale presented itself. To the gods, the Divine Hierarchy is everything, and every deity from the corrupt to the pure, from the most powerful to the least agent, are forever looking forward and upward. Kind of makes your own greed pale by comparison eh?
Tyroc however, stole that power, the divine spark, upon the prince’s death, while the other two were celebrating, and ascended to become his comrades’ superior. Understandably, there is now a bit of friction between the three gods. For his part, Torgash is the more vocal of the two lesser deities. While he will obey commands given to him, he does so like a petulant child, kicking and screaming the whole way. Of course, he rarely acts on those orders himself, as he is quick to delegate tasks to his worshippers. Said worshippers are instant scapegoats should they fail.
Lassik differs in many ways from Torgash, with the foremost being he does not truly bear Tyroc ill will, aside from the divine greed I mentioned earlier. Lassik was not the god of strife when the three gods killed the elemental prince. So he was never betrayed. In fact, he readily admits that he would have done the betraying had the situation occurred while he was in power.
You see, Lassik was once an elven bard who dared to love the goddess of music. I say dared, like its a bad thing, but in truth, anytime a mortal – and despite being long lived, most elves are still quite mortal – falls in love with a deity, it typically does not end well for the mortal. Dalliances are a much simpler affair. At any rate, the goddess of music Siiri, returned the love of the bard, and made him her champion. Unfortunately, Ghom, the then god of strife took issue with the relationship. He himself was smitten with the goddess, and thought she was the perfect counter to him. A mortal lover was an insult. Despite many attempts to kill the bard, they all failed. Which enraged the god of strife well past sensibility. He conspired to trick the goddess into meeting him on neutral ground to discuss a cease of hostilities between the two. She foolishly accepted. The actual account is unknown, as the two ironically met in the Gray, that graveyard of the gods. Only Ghom emerged, still absorbing Siiri’s divine spark.
The bard, felt his true love die. Felt the power of music begin to fray, as it began to fall sway to Ghom’s influence. Enraged, the bard stormed Ghom’s realm with all the power the goddess had given him. He knew that given time, the magic of music would be lost forever, and even he would lose all his powers. Worse, he, and all others that drew their power from music would have to submit to Ghom’s authority.
For his part, Ghom sent his agents to stop the interlopers, for the bard had not come alone. His longtime traveling companion, the satyr Poaru was with him. Poaru was apprenticed to the master bard, and was nearly at the level of the elf. Ghom however, had underestimated the two bards. For they wielded magic far more potent than those of their ilk.
Ghom was either unaware of the artifact the elven bard wielded, the Magnum Opus, or underestimated its potency as well. The artifact was forged when magic was still raw and new, believed to have been created by a dragon titan who may have influenced the bardic tradition of magic. It was infused with the knowledge of everything the titan knew. This allowed the master bard to create music based on that knowledge, which would empower him appropriately. The artifact was also capable learning, much like a bard so its potential was virtually unmatched.
Now the bards were wielding that magic, the Symphony of the Gods as it were, a piece believed to have been created for Siiri herself. It made the bards, for the satyr had learned to accompany it, more than a match for the minions Ghom sent after them. Ghom’s realm shook to its core as the enraged mortals journeyed to his castle. Ghom himself did battle with them. And whether he was weakened due to the efforts of killing the goddess of music, the strain of trying absorb her spark, or just unprepared for the mortals and their ancient magic, the end was the same. Ghom was slain.
Unfortunately for the elven bard, he did not have time to celebrate his vengeance. For he knew something that Paoru did not. To slay a god, is to take the god’s spark. A higher tier god can choose to leave a lesser god’s spark behind to let another claim it, gift it to a valued agent, or take it. The bard no matter how powerful, was still just a mortal. Like a moth to a flame the sparks, for there were still two, flew into the bard’s body, turning him into the fledgling god of strife and music. The two were clearly incompatible, and this was made evident when Magnum Opus shattered in the presence of such disharmony. The bard turned to Paoru, and gifted the still yet unabsorbed spark of music to the satyr, instantly making Paoru the new god of music. Paoru had no choice but to leave the realm, for his best friend, was now becoming his enemy.
.The bard changed his name to Lassik, for his old name only served to remind him of who he was, and what he had lost. Those emotions were reserved for someone weaker than he. For now he could see the patterns of order that wove through the world. He could see how a shift here or there would cause a bit of chaos. He could see the power that chaos would cause channeling to him.
He also saw the pact that Ghom and Torgash had made. Should either one be in jeopardy of destruction, the other would immediately come to his aid. Which meant that Torgash had intentionally violated the pact, or had directly or indirectly aided the bard in Ghom’s destruction. Both meant that Torgash likely had eyes on the portfolio of strife, and a fledgling god would likely make for easy prey in the god of battle’s eyes.
Yet Lassik did not forget all that he knew as a master bard. And though the artifact lay shattered on his throne room floor, Lassik was still in possession of powerful magic. And a cruel and vengeful mindset.
Hmm… I realize have been speaking to myself for quite some time. Gloommaul’s high priest has long since gone to meet his god. Likely he will tell Torgash tales of treachery and poison. Torgash will believe it. For aside from me, Gloommaul is devoid of life, the aforementioned poision having sent the entire clergy to the god of battle’s realm. Torgash will realize he had underestimated not only the portfolio of strife, that Ghom had failed to use effectively, but Lassik himself. Torgash will realize he is no longer the hunter. Whether he realizes that there are “bigger fish to fry” on Lassik’s mind is unlikely.
Ah well, I shall take my leave. I still have a few months to stir up hornets nests, before strife no longer is my calling.
A Darkness Rising 