Chronicle Of The Keep

The aged leather book is massive, it's weight making you grunt softly in suprise as you lift it from the bedside stand. You can hear the bindings creak as you open the cover of the ancient volume. As you leaf through the pages, you see this is not merely a history of the keep, but a history of this beautiful land, before the keep was ever built. To your great suprise, the history of this land is one of blood and tears, treachery and violence.

The Creation

When the universe was forged, in the fires of Chaos, smoke and darkness ruled all.
Of this black ichor, were the first ones born, the race called the Daran Dei'Halas, The Gods of Darkness.
These ancient gods filled the eternal night with cries of rage and hatred.
Their dark ambitions had no aim, no focus in this universe of nothingness.
The Dei'Halas spoke spells of darkness to the fires of chaos, and the first worlds were born.
Each of the elder gods claimed a world, and ruled it for a time.
But darkness feeds upon suffering and death, and the gods grew bored with empty worlds, and so gathered again about the great fire of chaos.
Each spoke unto the fire, begging for subjects to rule, for lives to ruin and souls upon which to feast.

The first god spoke, "Great Father, Fire of Chaos, Let the peoples be of flesh, that they might suffer at my hands!"

And the next god spoke, "Let them be born innocent, that I might corrupt them!"

And the next, "Let their souls be sweet and pure, for I hunger to taste them!"

And still another... "Father, let them be posessed of hope, that I might take it from them, and teach them dispair!"

"Great Lord, let them know joy, that I might show them misery!"

"Master, give them knowledge, that I might make slaves of them!"

And on it went for many years, until the fire grew tired of his childrens demands, and from the pure white ash at his heart, he shaped a body. Into the breast of this creature he placed a whisp of his own flame, a chaotic light, and the first man opened his eyes to learn fear, for the faces of a hundred dark gods peered down upon him, and a thousand eyes in all shapes stared out hungrily from those mishappen faces. The first god reached toward the man, and the man shrank away in terror.
The second reached out, and the man began to cry.
The other gods reached out, and the man ran in horror.
The gods realized that they could not share this one simple creature, and began to fight.
For a year they fought, and the man cowered by the fire that had created him, until at last the gods called a truce, and met once more about the great fire.

"Oh great Father, Great and all knowing Lord of Chaos, We beg you, let the man multiply, that there will be men on all our worlds, and many souls on which to feast!" They all cried as one.

Chaos would not deny his children the delights of torture and death, and so made more men, each with a bit of chaos in his soul.
The fire began to dim as he pulled part of himself away to create these tiny, frail creatures, but he was unconcerned, for he knew that his fire would burn brighter with the death of each of these souls.

Years passed and the men grew old, or were tortured to death, or simply killed themselves to end their misery.
And the fire of chaos grew brighter than ever.
The dark gods though, grew worried, for the men that chaos had created had nearly died out.

"Great father, we need more men, our slaves are all dying, and we have not tired of our sport."

And the great fire considered this for a long while.

"My children," The flame spoke. "I shall give you a great gift. I will teach these creatures a new lesson, one I think you shall enjoy witnissing."

And so the great flame of chaos created a new body, A man like the others, but this one had something that made the gods smile in wicked delight.
And he created another new body, one that the gods had never seen before, but desired to corrupt and possess more than they had ever desired the man.

"This, children, is a woman." The old gods tested the new word, liking it's flavor on their tongues.

"And this new man, shall corrupt her as you corrupt him. They will inspire a wonderful new feeling in one another... They shall lust!"

The old gods howled in devilish pleasure, they knew not the word, but they could taste it's promise already.
The fire created more and more bodies, enough for each world, and breathed new life into them, knowing that they would create generations of slaves, without him having to sacrifice his precious flame.
And then Chaos slept, confident in his work.

For years, all went as it was planned, men lived and died, to be replaced by new men, born of lust.
The dark gods sated their own lust upon the women, giving birth to the Daran Matara, who ruled the men and were in turn ruled by the gods. Demonic servants.
Then, one day, a man lusted for a woman, and she for him, but they felt something more.
The sleep of chaos grew restless.
The man spoke to the woman gently, his voice filled with hope and joy, and all the virtues the old gods had thought they had taken from him.

"I... Love you." He whispered.

Chaos awoke with a start.

"And I Love you..." The woman answered.

Chaos shrieked in pain, and the dark gods howled in agony.
They raced faster than shadows to the place where the humans lie, and took the woman from his side.
He pleaded with them, begged that he be the one to die, not she, and again the gods felt pain, but still they smiled, for they knew his pain would be greater still.
Before his eyes, they raped the woman, each in turn, and then they tortured her to death, as only a dark god could, and they left him to suffer at her side.

The red flame of chaos in the mans breast burned white and pure with rage, and the dark gods suddenly feared, and even the great flame of chaos flickered with a chill of dread.
The word love had caused them pain, but the word that passed the mans lips made their black blood run cold.

Though only whispered, the word was fueled by rage and sorrow, pure and sweet and terrible, it carried to the four corners of every world, to the ears of every man.
At it's sound, the white flame enveloped the body of the man, and burned him to ash.
From the ash, rose a new man, one that glowed as brightly as the fire of rage.
A blade of glittering white light in his hand, he looked upon the dark gods with contempt, and spoke with barely restrained menace.

"I am Paladin. I am the hand of order, and the warrior of freedom." These new words made the gods writhe in pain, and lash out in fear, but no attack could touch this shining warrior, the champion of men.

"The cry which heralded my birth, shall be your death knell." He raised the shining blade, and again the gods lashed out, but to no avail.
Each god who stood before him, fell to his blade, powered by rage, he was the hope of men and women, and he drew more strength from that hope.
He came closer and closer to chaos, the bodies of gods who thought they could not die, piling up behind him.
The last few Daran Dei'Halas cowered behind their father, and begged his protection, but the great flame had no tolerance for cowards or failures, and he destroyed the last of these dark beasts himself.

It was then that the great flame flared brightly, and went out, and in it's place stood a man, clothed in dark armor, wielding a blade of shadow.
For seven long years, the Lord of Order, and The lord of Chaos battled, and all the humans watched in terror, until at last, The paladin mortally wounded the immortal warrior of chaos.

"What are you? What power could be greater than mine, that a simple beast like man could summon it?" The dying god rasped.

And again that dreaded word was whispered, and the dying chaos writhed in pain. "I am the force called upon to protect those who cannot protect themselves... I am born of mans most desperate need... Justice." The paladin lowered his weapon in salute to his foe.

Chaos thrust his shadowed blade deep into the Paladins breast with the last of his strength.

"If the universe is to loose darkness and chaos, at least it shall loose light, and hope and... justice!" He spat the word before dying.

The paladin staggered toward the place of his birth, a beautiful garden of green having sprouted up around the place where his love had died seven years before.
With the last of his strength, he rekindled the white fires of order, and again uttered the once-forbidden words.

"I Love You, Mei'Ara." And he spread the fire of his heart over her body.
From the earth, a shimmering white figure arose, bathed in a golden light of her own.

"And I love you, my Paladin." she answered again.

He begged her to watch over mankind, as a guardian, and a mother, and to seek out men of honor to help her in this task.
She kissed his cold lips as he died, her tears washing away his blood, and vowed to honor her lovers last wish.

Many thousands of years, The Goddess Mei'Ara worked to make things grow on the twisted worlds left behind by the Daran Dei'Halas, But no world ever rivaled the beauty of the garden created by the first love.
When her work was finally done, and plants and creatures thrived and flourished on the worlds of the universe, she began her next task.
After a century, she found a simple man on one of many worlds, she watched this man defend a lost child who had stolen some bread, she watched him help an injured animal in the forest, she watched him for a year and a day, until at last she appeared before him, and asked him his name, though in truth, she already knew.

"My name is Aylin, M'Lady." He answerd simply.

"I am the Goddess Mei'Ara, Aylin. I have a great duty to charge you with, and from this day on, you will be called Paladin." She explained.

"Why me, and why Paladin?" he stammered in shocked disbelief.

"For you are a man of honor, and because..." She sighed sadly, as a perfect tear formed in her eye.
"Because I honor a memory of love." She lightly kissed his cheek,
and led him to a grassy meadow, where they spoke of things past, and things yet hidden by the future.