A Creation Myth

[Susano]

A while back I posted a creation myth that I'd created for my Well of the Worlds game. Now I'm running another version of the game, and the question of "where does this stuff come from" came up again. So I wrote this. Enjoy.

 

QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS

 

It was almost frightening how dark this strange world was at night. There was no moon, no stars, just pitch blackness where back on Earth there’d be a smattering of bright twinkling points. Still, it wasn’t totally dark. A faint glow—like, but unlike starlight—suffused the air. It seemed to come from the horizon, or what passed for the horizon on this possibly flat planet, and when Doug McClure took a close look through his binoculars, the light appeared to come from above the horizon, as if a giant nightlight encircled the sky.

 

Sitting cross-legged on the ground, Doug decided that his current companions were no less odd. Ever since the Squall, things had come fast and furious, with no let up. Four-limbed two-toned ‘Boat People’ who sailed the great ‘Ring Ocean’ in massive trading galleys. A sun that kept such a constant course directions were set by it. No knowledge of tides, or radio, or even years. Time was told in days, and hands of days, and seasons, however long that was. And so, here he sat, across from the ‘Wondrous Lady Teodora, Player Nonpareil,’ an actress with her own traveling road show.

 

There were three in the troupe. A man and two women. All dressed in outfits that reminded Doug of a Renaissance Festival, or a Hollywood historical epic. Except their clothes looked more ‘real’, more lived-in than any custom-fitted and dry-cleaned costume. Take Teodora’s coat for example, you could see the wear and tear, the faint stains, the bright stitching of repairs, and the slight fraying at the collar and cuff. And the elaborate tooling on her boots was all hand-done, not machine stamped. Boots like that went for twelve-hundred easy back on Earth; he wondered what she’d paid for them.

 

“More stew?” Dirorah asked. Holding out his bowl, Doug nodded assent. Yeah, if anyone had ever asked what the last thing he ever expected to do in his life, eating dinner sitting next to something that looked like it walked out of a Japanese cartoon would have been at the top of his list. Oh, she looked human enough, and if the curves of her coat were any hint, she was quite healthy too. But, her long hair was snowy-white and contrasted sharply with her reddish-brown skin. Not to mention to large cat-like ears atop her head and the long, thin cat’s tail she had. Still, she was polite enough and certainly easy on the eyes.

 

Her companion was a man named Lepolo, who looked almost stereotypically Mexican (or Cuban, if you spent a lot of time in Florida, like Doug did.) He was tall, toned, and had long black hair that would have made him an instant hit with the ladies... as long as you discounted the short horns projecting back from just above his ears.

 

And then there was Lady Teodora; bronze-skinned, with ice-blue hair (run-through with white stripes), fox-like ears, and a matching tail. She sat on a small camp stool on the other side of the fire, long legs crossed in front of her. Even considering his age and health, Doug found his eyes drawn to the thigh-high boots she wore. While her personality wasn’t much to talk about (it reminded him far too much of certain prima donna actresses), she was very nice to look at and her thick, bushy, swaying tail only served to accent the swing of her hips. Oh to be young again, and in his prime, like on the set of The Land That Time Forgot, where any deficiencies in plot (or acting) were quickly covered up by plenty of female extras in fur bikinis. The movies hadn’t been great, but they’d been fun to make.

 

Digging into his second bowl (why was he so hungry... the cancer had killed his appetite along with his body... hadn’t it?) Doug gestured with his spoon. “So, Lady Teodora, the Boat People told us of an ‘Island of Metal’ at the mouth of Skelde Bay. have you ever heard of anything like that?”

 

Mopping up gravy with a hunk of dark bread, Teodora flicked her ears back and forth. “We’ve never been to Skelde Bay so I’ve never heard of nor seen this metal island you speak of. Why? Is it important?”

 

“Maybe.” Doug thought about what the Boat People had said. About a great ship, far larger than their own galley, the Wave Rider, made of metal. Of immense fish that looked like islands (yeah, like he hadn’t heard that one before), and of different peoples who’s racial names all seemed to run together.

 

“What about people like us?” Chris Killson interjected. The PBS producer still looked flushed after a day of walking but otherwise healthy enough.

 

Teodora glanced at her two assistants who returned her look with a shrug. “People like you?” she asked, obviously confused.

 

Doug was reminded of his conversation with Captain Konger of the Boat People clanship Wave Rider. He hadn’t been too quick on the whole ‘stranger’ thing either. There’d been no real surprise at their appearance, clothes, gear, or even the boat. Did people like themselves simply drop in all of the time?

 

“Strangers,” Doug replied. “People like ourselves,...” He indicated Chris, Tom, Sayid, and himself. “...who aren’t from around here. Do you have stories like that?”

 

“Ah!” At the mention of the word ‘stories’ Teodora brightened. “We’ve traveled the coast for seasons, though many lands, and together have collected many stories about strange and unusual places.” She paused and thought for a moment. “There was the one about the man made of metal, who could lift, bend, or break anything put before him.”

 

“Or the women who bore a sword of light,” Lepolo interjected. “It was said to be able to cut through any other sword.”

 

“Oh! Oh!” Dirorah added. “And do you remember the one about the flying arrowheads?” Holding up her hands, she indicated a triangular shape. “They are said to look like that ships that ply the Ring Ocean, but without masts or sails.”

 

“Men with the bodies of great snakes,” Teodora continued. “They’re said to live far inland, where the air is hot and it rains all the time. And there are tales of people who come at night to steal children and livestock.”

 

“Those are real,” Lepolo stated. “I’ve seen one.”

 

Teodora’s expression illustrated her opinion on that claim. “And recently we’ve heard tales of a great war, fought on the far side of the Ocean. A great warlord, eight feet tall or more, armed with weapons no other man could lift, led an army out into the Ocean to attack some citadel. His generals were all people with unique gifts. One could fly, another was immortal, a third commanded strange magic.” She paused and looked thoughtful. “I wish I knew more, it would make a great part of the show.”

 

* * * * *

 

A traveling show. That explained the brightly-colored (if a bit travel worn) caravan, not to mention the signs on either side of it. Tom Griswold felt pleased with the realization that while he couldn’t read what was painted on the sign, he could pick out individual letters. The upper arch was almost certainly the word ‘Wondrous’ (it was amazing how you could almost ‘hear’ the capitals when Lady Teodora said her title), while the lines below would be ‘Lady’ and ‘Teodora.’ However, the line of text below that was still unknown—for now.

 

The letters looked vaguely like Cyrillic, with tantalizing hints of almost recognizable characters. At least Teodora’s people didn’t use glyphs, or runes, or ideograms, or any number of other near-incomprehensible scripts. Come to think of it, if he closed his eyes and simply listened he could hear what Dirorah, Lepolo, and Teodora were actually saying, as opposed to the English his brain was processing. Their language sounded faintly like German, or Russian, or both mixed together. It also made it sound like the three of then really needed to spit from time to time... not unlike someone speaking Welsh, come to think of it.

 

Of course, considering the three speakers weren’t exactly human, there was no real reason to expect them to speak any language native to Earth. Or even an analog for an Earth language. On the other hand, the mental translation process helped. Leoplo, for example, seemed to have a name that meant ‘bold man,’ while Teodora translated to ‘gift of the gods.’ Certainly a suitable name for the arrogant and vain actress. Dirorah’s name, however, didn’t seem to come across as anything but ‘Dirorah.’ Perhaps it had no meaning, or was cut down from a longer name? He’d probably never know.

 

“...a Season is one Hand of Five Hands. That’s 125 days and the typical time it takes for crops to be sown, grow, and be harvested.” Speaking of Dirorah, she was explaining the local calendar to Chris Killson, which seemed to be going over better then when the man had asked the Boat People about how they navigated. After about the fifth ‘sun’ direction, Tom had given up, even if Chris had continued peppering the amazingly patient navigator with questions.

 

Speaking of questions....

 

Sitting up, Tom set his bowl down and looked over where the trio of actors sat clustered together. A white-haired cat-like girl, a guy with horns, and a woman with a big bushy tail. They looked like something from Weta Workshop... or maybe the Avatar sequel. “Lady Teodora,” he asked, “where did this world come from? Who created it?”

 

That caused several conversations to quit. The three looked at each other and looked as confused as when Tom had tried to describe how the Earth was round. “I don’t think anyone created the world,” Dirorah replied. “It always has been and always will be.”

 

“The world was here before my people,” Lepolo added. “The Boat People say the same thing. I spoke with one who told me that Hands upon Hands of Seasons ago a fleet of clanships sailed from their clanhomes to found new trading routes. They crossed a vast ocean and encountered great storms which left them on strange waters. Not knowing where they were, the Boat People made landfall and set to repairing the clanships. Once they were done, they set sail to find their clanhomes, but never did.” He paused and pointed out towards the distant sea. “That is why the Boat People almost never leave their trading galleys and come ashore. They wish to be ready if the storms sweep them up and return them to the oceans of their ancestors.”

 

Tom took a moment to muse over that one. It sounded a lot like the squall that had left The Ship That Time Forgot adrift in what the Boat People had called the ‘Ring Ocean.’ And it probably wasn’t coincidence that said squall had happened in the infamous Bermuda Triangle. Perhaps there was a nugget of truth behind the stories about ships and planes simply vanishing into thin air?

 

“I will tell you a tale, as told to me by an elder sage in the city of Khama.” Lady Teodora stood as she spoke, pushing her long blue hair back from her face, adjusting the hem of her coat, and smoothing out her tail. ‘Gift of the gods’ indeed. “He was of the Furred People and said this story explained not only how the world came to be, but how the Furred People came to live in it.”

 

Stepping up to the fire, Teodora raised her arms and looked up into the night. “In the beginning, the world was not as we know it now. The People lived above the sky, in a vast land of plenty, where no one was ever ill or hungry. In the center of this land was a great tree, known as The Tree of Life, whose branches covered half the land and whose roots descended down through the sky to unknown lands below.

 

“It was forbidden for anyone to climb down the roots of The Tree of Life, for fear of disturbing the spirits that dwelled amid them. If angered, the spirits could make the great tree shake, causing branches to fall and crush the land, food to be scarce, and illness to plague the People. And so it was for Seasons beyond counting, and the People lived in peace and harmony, not knowing of strife, or hunger, or even death.

 

“But then a child was born to the People who lived above the sky. Known as One-Who-Falls, he was not content to dwell amid the placid People in a land of plenty were nothing was needed. For he knew the wealth of the Land Above the Sky had made the People weak and listless, unwilling to work, to spin cloth, to work with wood or metal, or provide in any way for themselves. Girding himself for what he must do, One-Who-Falls ignored the taboos of his people, took to The Tree of Life and climbed down the roots. Along the way he met many spirits, some of whom he fought, some he ignored, and some he befriended. Those who he befriended taught him many things and gave him many gifts. In turn, One-Who-Falls promised that when he made the lands below his own, the spirits who had aided him would be able to dwell there, free from the roots of The Tree of Life.

 

“When One-Who-Falls reached the tips of the roots, he found a vast ocean with nary a spot of land to be seen. So he dived down into the water until he could find earth and brought it up to the air. He then formed an island where the roots of The Tree of Life ended. By diving deep into the ocean again and again, and with the aid of the gifts given to him by the spirits, he made his island grow. In time it was large enough to suit One-Who-Falls, so he walked among the islands hills and valleys, creating the plants and animals his people would need to survive, for he knew the People could not continue to live in the Land Above the Sky.

 

Once he had populated his land, One-Who-Falls called to the spirits of the roots and asked him to dwell in the new lands below the roots of The Tree of Life. Many did so, but this caused the great tree to sway as the roots slowly become undone once the spirits were no longer there to care for them. But One-Who-Falls, who had learned many things from the spirits, took up his axe and cut the roots free, so they would fall upon his land and grow into new Trees of Life. But as he did so, the rest of the tree collapsed, bringing the Land Above the Sky with it. Many of the People died when The Tree of Life struck the ground, but many more survived and were welcomed into the halls of One-Who-Falls. There, One-Who-Falls taught the People the lessons he had learned from the spirits of the roots, so that they could live in this new land.”

 

Pausing, Lady Teodora bent down and took a drink from her mug. “And that is how the Furred People say the world came to be.”

 

* * * * *

 

And what a world. Chris Killson looked up into the inky black sky and once again marveled at the lack of a moon and stars. It was a shame really, here he was alive and well on a world far from home and he didn’t even have the hurtling moons of Barsoom to keep him company. On the other hand, the melting pot of races did remind him of Burroughs’ Mars, although the way everyone was dressed was more in line with Howard's Hyperborean Age. Which, now that he thought about it, was a blessing. Considering that Lady Teodora looked like she came right out of one those weird-assed Japanese cartoons, he wasn’t sure how’d he’d handle her wearing nothing more than jewelry. Or the cat-like girl Dirorah, for that matter.

 

Speaking of whom....

 

“Dirorah?”

 

The woman’s ears twitched as she looked at him from under bangs of snowy-white hair. “Yes?”

 

“What was that you said before, about the Island of Metal?”

 

“That we’ve never seen it. This is the first time we’ve come to Skelde Bay, you see.” She paused and looked thoughtful. “Have you ever seen it? What’s it like?”

 

“Ahhh....” Chris fumbled for his words, trying to keep his mind on track. There was so much he wanted to know! “No, we haven’t seen it either, but it sounded... uhm... interesting.”

 

“Interesting?” Dirorah blinked and then smiled, “We were told it’s half-a-mile long and covered in trees!”

 

“Where....” Chris felt his train of thought derail at the sight of the woman’s smile. And then it totally fell of the tracks when he realized exactly how pointed her teeth were. “Yeah... uhm... where does stuff like that come from? Do you see a lot of it?”

 

“Hmm...” Dirorah say back and looked thoughtful, resting an index finger against her chin. It looked amazingly cute. “Lepolo? Where was that place with the ever-burning lamp post?”

 

“Izad,” the horned man replied. “It was in the middle of the town square and has been there for so long no one can recall when it wasn’t. The lamp never needs fuel and always burns brightly.” He paused and grinned, “We held shows there every night for a Hand!”

 

“A what?” Chris was having trouble wrapping his head around what he was being told. It was all, so... strange.

 

“Don’t forget the Tomb of Acererak,” added Lady Teodora. In answer to Chris’ questioning look, she added, “Near the city-state of Evert there is great tomb of massive stone blocks. Within is the wreckage of some great ship, or the the legends go. And within the wreckage is a silver egg, the surface smoother than glass, with out hinges, lid, or keyhole. The egg is supposed to be the resting-place of the great paladin Acererak, who founded the city of Evert and was its first king.” She then shrugged, “Having seen the silver egg for myself, I’ll admit it isn’t much of a tomb, but the people of Evert pay homage to it, nevertheless.”

 

“My home is the village of Andnei.” Dirorah pointed away from the sea, in the general direction of the where the sun had set. “Way up where the air is cooler and the forests thicker. Anyway, there is a river near my village, and in the river is an island. And on the island is a pillar of metal, smooth and free of rust, standing over twenty feet high.” She paused, almost expecting Chris to be impressed, then folded her ears flat when he looked frantic instead.

 

“Yes, but where does all of this stuff come from?” Chris asked, almost in desperation.

 

“The sky,” Teodora stated flatly.

 

“The sea,” was Lepolo reply.

 

“The mountains,” contributed Dirorah.

 

“So... no one knows?”

 

Teodora gave another shrug. “Basically.”

 

Okay, time to try a different tact. Doug seemed to be dozing, Tom was listening intently, and Sayid was doing what it was Sayid did when he wasn’t responding to Doug’s every request. “You mentioned a city-state, does that mean there are different governments?”

 

“Of course.” Teodora stood and came over to where Chris sat. Crouching down she started to draw in the dirt with a stick. “We are here, heading to Skelde Bay, which I hear is a collection of independent fishing villages with no real allegiance. Back here,” she drew a line towards the fire, “are the city states of Kolinkar. There are... oh... a dozen are so, and all are aligned into a loose confederation. Further back along the ocean is the Kingdom of Airas. Airas is ruled by a Running Person named Verri, who had us perform for his court.”

 

“He paid us in rolls of fine cotton, a roll of silk, and several hides of the smoothest leather I’ve ever seen,” Lepolo supplied.

 

“And beyond that,” Teodora didn’t even bat an eye at the interruption, “is the Grand Duchy of Blackmoor.”

 

“And the village of Paardstad.” Chris could hear the sarcasm in Dirorah’s voice.

 

Rubbing her foot in the crude map, Teodora stood. “I thought we agreed to never mention the village of Paardstad again.”

 

“We did.” Lepolo gave his companion a glare.

 

“Sorry.”

 

“Anyway, past Skelde Bay I hear is the Monarchy of the Two Queens, where I hope we will find audiences willing to part with the coin in appreciation of our show.”

 

Running Person? What was a “Running Person”? How many races were there in the land anyway? And...uh... could they... uh.... “Teodora?”

 

Yes?”

 

“I’ve heard mention of a lot of different peoples. Uhm... you mentioned a Running Person, and we met Boat People, and they talked about Hunting People, and Leaping People, and your one story talked about the Furred People. So....” He wondered how to phrase his question properly. “Can the different peoples mix? Are there half people?”

 

Teodora blinked, possibly caught off guard by the question. She glanced over at where Dirorah and Lepolo were cleaning up and sighed. “If by “mix” you mean take to one another’s bed, yes they can. But I’ve never heard of such a union breeding true.”

[DusterBoy]

Re: A Creation Myth

 

Very interesting, Mike

[Susano]

Re: A Creation Myth

 

Very interesting' date=' Mike [/quote']

 

Thanks!

 

The fun part was sneaking in various cameos and the like. That and who the Wondrous Lady Teodora is based off of.

[Barwickian]

Re: A Creation Myth

 

I really like this. Not just the set-up, but the framing of the creation as a short story. I've seen that kind of thing done for mood before, but invariably attempts to do it for campaign setting are done badly.

 

This isn't. I enjoyed reading it. Sounds like an interesting premise for a campaign as well.

[Susano]

Re: A Creation Myth

 

I really like this. Not just the set-up, but the framing of the creation as a short story. I've seen that kind of thing done for mood before, but invariably attempts to do it for campaign setting are done badly.

 

This isn't. I enjoyed reading it. Sounds like an interesting premise for a campaign as well.

 

In fact, this is the second time I've run something in this setting. You can read about 16-session campaign here:

 

http://surbrook.devermore.net/worldbooks/well/well.html

 

And if you liked this creation myth, read the Hunter of Bees here: http://surbrook.devermore.net/worldbooks/well/stories/hunter_of_bees.html

[Lord Liaden]

Re: A Creation Myth

 

I really appreciate the character interactions, particularly the people who have read fiction about worlds like this trying to elicit information they can relate to from people who actually live in it.

 

The fun part was sneaking in various cameos and the like.

 

I'm glad Doug McClure ended up somewhere interesting.

[Susano]

Re: A Creation Myth

 

I really appreciate the character interactions, particularly the people who have read fiction about worlds like this trying to elicit information they can relate to from people who actually live in it.

 

 

 

I'm glad Doug McClure ended up somewhere interesting.

 

Yeah, when I said it was a "Lost Worlds" adventure, one of the players decided to play a Doug McClure, who didn't die at age 50-whatever, and has lived to be 79 or so.