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theology101 · 6 months

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Family Tree of the Divine in my DnD Campaign - Forgotten Realms/Greyhawk hybrid

So I started DnD with the Greyhawk setting. It’s a dark, depressing setting of beings of good fighting against the oncoming, overwhelming dark. It’s fun, but as time has gone by it has been surpassed by its younger cousin, Forgotten Realms. Both are still around, though - Mordenkanian is from Oerth, not Faerûn, same with Vecna. For my campaign, here is my Lore and Family tree

Ao the Everything

Ao the Everything simply was. Then They had a thought - and that thought was Ioun. The Goddess of Thought and Memory was born, and Ao saw something that both was Them, and wasn’t Them - a part of the collective, yet independent. And when They had finished that thought, the concept of something ending came into existence, and with it Jergal, the God of Death and Endings.

The three set about the idea of making, and every time Ao had thought of a new concept, the concept had come into being too, and with it a God. To track who came and when, Time was created and so was Amauanator. Earth and Fire came next, then water and air. And on and on and on it went. And when it was done, the planet had been formed, the universal order had been set, and the original pantheon was born.

Ao the Everything: God of Creation

Ioun: Goddess of Creativity, Thought, and Memory

Jergal: God of Death and Ending

Amauanator: God of Time and Divisions

Akadi, Queen of Winds: Goddess of the Air

Kossuth, King of Flame: God of Fire

Grumbar, Margrave of Stone: God of Earth

Istishia, Lady of Seas: Goddess of Water

Melora, the Wildmother: Goddess of Life

Avandra: Goddess of Change and Luck

Etherdock, the Endless Shadow: God of the Dark

Targus: God of Conflict

Sune: Goddess of Passion

Together, the original twelve built reality. The Sovereigns of Materials fashioned of themselves places where all was them, as Ao had, and tried to split off themselves and coallesce as new beings, without success. The result was, in the center of the four, a mess of their elements, combining and recombining into a number of half-formed shapes - without Ao, nothing new could be made beyond what it was. The remaining eight were set to work by their Creator, fashioning the core of the Elemental Chaos into the Material Plane, named after the beings it was forged of, the Four Elemental gods of Material.

But the Chaos was peaking through, piercing the Prime Material Plane, turning the carefully sculpted hills and seas into hellscapes and arid wastelands. To protect their creation, another realm was made, surrounding the Prime Material. It was Avandra who decided that there would be no set shape to this realm, and things would be free to change and alter - a fluid, chaotic realm, to protect their solid one.

But the Gods had grown upset with Ao. They had formed their creations, and they were proud of them. Yet they sat their, lifeless and inanimate. Jealous of Ao’s power, Targus was able to rile up his siblings to form a coalition, one which went to their creator and asked for the ability to create themselves. Ao, who had grown fond of the many differences and contradictions within Themselves, asked Ioun for her council - for she and Jergal alone of the Twelve refused to join the coalition.

“To grant us this gift is a gift that can never be undone,” she told the Everything. “We will be able to make alone, or with each other. In the dark, in conspiracy. But it would also grant us joy - as you felt when creating Us. And in our independance, we may hope to give you more joy with our creations too. For when, in all that Amauanator has chronicled, have you ever been surprised?”

Swayed by the Goddess, Ao took a raw piece of the Soverigns and made of it a Tablet, and transcribed Their power within it. And like that, the Era of the Making was finished, and the Age of Divinity began.

Amaunator went to Kossuth and together helped each other make children. Amauanator borrowed of Kossuth’s flame, and set it in the void surrounding the Material Plane, and delegated the keeping of Time to his son, the God of the Sun, Pelor. Kossuth, on the other hand, had Amauantor count faster over a divine flame, and when he did the flame grew hotter and hotter until it became Bazim-Gorag, the Firebringer.

Melora set about seeding the Material Plane with life, crafting from the clay the Beasts of the Field, Sea and Sky. But also beyond, creating Flora and Fauna that could exist in the Chaotic Fluid Plane and the Elemental ones. And it was in the fluid plane that she begat a son, Correllon the Archheart, to watch over this chaotic intermingling realm. In the Prime Material Realm, she begat a daughter named Chauntea, Goddess of Planet Life. Yet still, she felt the planeness of it all, the lack of drive in her Life. The stationarity.

With Pelor’s flame now visible to all on the Prime Material plane, Etherdock began to tire. And so he took upon a shape more pleasing to Pelor’s liking, and the two (bound by Sune’s magic) spawned their daughters, Selûne, the Goddess of Light, and Shar, Goddess of Darkness. Selûne, who loved their father Pelor, helped him in keeping time and spreading Light, forming the Moon. Shar helped as well, but was far too independent to be locked in a celestial body, became the Night, staying away from her father. But then Targus began to poke and prod at the Twin Sisters, eventually erupting into conflict between the two.

From that conflict was the first war, Light fighting Darkness. And from that war came Tempus, it’s god and Targus’ son. The war grew violent, tumultuous, almost as bad as before the Fluid Plane was made. So much so that their fathers intervened and Pelor took on the shape of a warrior before warriors had meaning. When Pelor was in the Sky, Light would reign supreme, but when Etherdock had taken his place, Darkness would. Yet regardless of which god’s influence was dominant, the Twins would be forced to suffer the others pressence. The war did not end, Shar and Selûne would simply not be the ones to fight it. And so, they made proxy servants of lesser strength to fight for them.

Ioun had watched the chaos of the Light and Dark war, and watched as it cluttered and crowded her webs of fate. Destiny had grown chaotic, and she grew concerned. So, she split off a part of herself to help focus the strands, to Weave them into something manageable, something usable. This split was named Mystryl, and she was the Goddess of Magic.

Targus wished to participate, and with Sune’s help, he was able to woo Melora. In their lovemaking, they had several children: Gruumsh the Ravenous, Malor the Feral Lord, Meiliki the Forest Maiden, Lurue of the Talking Beasts, and Silvanus the Treefather. Malar and Lurue set about shaping more animals for their mother, while Melikki and Silvanus set about giving the animals a place to live. Gruumsh gave all these beings hunger, a need to eat and consume. In this way, Gruumsh encourages the creations to make way for new life to grow by consuming the old, Targus watching the conflicts as animals competed and evolved against and with one another.

Emerging from the Elemental Chaos with no clear creator was Talos, the god of elemental destruction. Grumbar and Kossuth, following Targus and Melora’s coupling, bred together twins of molten rock and stone, and they were the craftsman Gond and Moradin. Akadi and Ishtisha, begat twins of their own; Auril, the Iceheart, goddess of winter, and Kord, god of storm’s and strength. Avandra, watching as their family grew larger and larger, figured it was time she had children too - Tymora, Good Luck, and Besheba, Bad Luck. Both were set loose to inflict chaos.

Much in Sune’s confidences, Mystryl grew fascinated with Pelor. Unlike the other gods, who mostly were content with their sphere’s of influence, Pelor was ambitious, restless. He had turned from simply the Timekeeper to the God around which the whole plane revolved around, literally. He was a fire god now, a war god too (Forced to break up Shar and Selûne’s fights as he was) as well as his role as the literal Sun. Mystryl liked that ambition, and so she approached him, and together they had a son, and his name was Lathander the Newdawn.

Wishing to have a partner, Corellon asked Avandra to make him a wife. And that she did, and she was beautiful and dark. But Sune did not like the pair, waiting until they had produced the fey and their daughter Sedhaine/Ellistrae, the Dreamweaver before setting her husband Targus upon the pair. Lolth and Corellon started arguing, and that arguing split their children. The Fey did as their gods did, and fought and split into the Unseelie and Seelie courts - receiving patronage from Shar and Selûne respectively. The Fey took on the nature of the Fluid Plane, wild and chaotic with beings and geography shifting and altering at random. Gruumsh inflicted himself upon the Fey in equal measures, feeding into their love of mischief

All was well in the realms until Pelor, Targus, Mystryl and Avandra came up with a scheme. Though they could create new life, new beings, these beings were only aspects of themselves. Parts of them. Though they could become more, as Pelor had, and his and mystryl’s son had after, but they weren’t new. Not fully.

So, Lathander approached Ao the Everything, and asked the venerable Progenitor to teach him how to plant. He took a scythe into the earth, and attempted to use it as though it were a hoe. Amused, Ao the Everything took upon a physical form so that They may show the young god how it was done. They took the seeds from Lathander’s hands, summoned and focussed the winds to part the ground in furrows. Having never taken physical shape before, Ao found the experience enlightening, enjoyable even. So They asked Lathander what ground he wanted parted next, and after that, and so on.

Unbeknowst to Ao the Everything, They were not plowing randomly into the earth. Lathander was there, guiding and requesting as they went, shaping row after row of soon to be plant life, into creating a massive runic symbol. But Mystryl and Shar were able to obscure that from Ao, just as she obscured that Lathander’s seeds were banefully cursed. Each drained some of Ao’s divine power. They could’ve noticed it, perhaps, but Besheba ensured it was the God’s bad luck to never check.

With each seed planted, Ao summoned pure Water. It was then that the trap was launched. Pelor added his own divine flames, and like that - another Tablet had been formed. Made of the raw materials, Ao was tricked into separating off themselves in another covenant. Three of the four prime elements were involved in the phony farming scheme, and when Pelor added his flame the tablet was set.

There, with what was left of Their power, Ao could have smashed thr Tablet, restored to Their full power. But Targus had appeared from behind and restrained him, Mystryl’s magic beginning dissolving the Creator into his raw components as Selûne flooded Their eyes with light and Shar with darkness. The Everything tried what They could, using what was left of Their quickly fading power to strike at Their Betrayers, but Pelor overwhelmed Them with the full Force of the Sun, long enough for Lathander to take his scythe and carved out the Heart of Creation.

Without Their heart, Ao was defensless as Mystryl’s spells finished their work, scattering the Creator to the Elemtenal Chaos. The Creator was dead - but from those seeds that had been planted sprouted the first mortals. The Age of Wonder had begun. Or so they had thought.

Jergal appeared then, the God of Death’s scorn painful to behold, let alone suffer through.

“You arrogant children,” he spat with venom. “You bumbling, foolish and spoiled Children. Dodst thou truly think Ao destroyed? Nay. They art All - to destroy Them is to destroy thyselves, too. Yet, forsooth, we stand. The End of All Things is not yet, but thou have ignited it. And when Ao doth Return, thy’s end will be of your design.”

The new creations were not as great as their previous ones. They were small, and weaker too. But they were free in a way that the Gods never could be. And yet, he who had never created, Jergal was their ultimate master. For all the new creations, inspite of the Gods wishes, were not eternal. They were mortal - and eventually, Jergal came to collect them, spiriting them away to the Astral sea.

They all took a hand in it. Leaving the Feywild, the Fey who longed for a concrete appearance turned into the first elves, orcs and gnomes. From their forge, Gond and Moradin made beings as strong and stout as the steel they worked, imbuing within them the same desire to create that Ao had given all the Gods. The Dwarves, as their machines were called, set about creating too, emulating all the gods who came before in their wish to make. Kord’s lightning struck a mountain and that Mountain became Aman, who began begatting the Giants. Even the Material Soverigns were involved, sculpting from the elements the Genasi.

But from the seeds that Ao had planted came Humans. The accidental creations. The Curse and Seed of Ao. And within each of them was the same unlimited potential of Ao.

Graaumsh and Lolth both chafed under Corellon - though all were Gods of similar power and pedigree, Corellon the Archheart was the Master of both the Fey and Elves, including Gruumsh’s Orcs snd Lolth’s Drow - the Fey to whom were Loyal to them. The Children of Melora erupted into violent war. Corellon, Silvanus, Sedhaine, and Lurue fought Gruumsh and Lolth, snd while Malar attempted to join on their side, his inability to focus made him practically neutral with Melikki. The war between them was long and bloody, only ending when Amauanator deemed that the ‘runt-orcs’ as they were called at the time, were distinct enough from True Orcs that they were a different species entirely. While that did not necessarily mean Gruumsh would lose their allegiance, Targus chose that moment to make the runt-orcs institute a revolt against their True Orc masters. From their collective hatred and rage, the runt orc’s made their own god, Muglibiyet, by worshipping one of Gruumsh’s aspects so hard it became a new being. The sheer shock of the event made all the gods in question put down their arms, at least temporarily.

Humans, with their terribly short lives, started to spread. Slowly, and steadily at first, but accelerating once Mystryl taught the first human magic. All spellcasting prior had been intrinsic, natural, or divine - but now, through conscious effort, spells could be made.

Kingdoms and Empires were forged and destroyed and forged again. Lesser spirits, not quite gods but not mortal either, took to these kingdoms, becoming patrons of certain cities or states. And then, to their shock, the spirits got stronger. Through reverence, the Mortals had imbued psrt of their power into the Spirit. Not much, not anything tangible to them, but built up and in the right hands, these spirits became lesser gods.

This, of course, was part of the Four Traitor’s plan. Through worship, they gained power, yes, but they gained even more when they claimed a Soul. Jergal escorted the souls of the Dead to the Astral Sea, but from there Lathander would steal the ones most loyal to the Betrayers and dole them out accordingly. And soon, Pelor, Mystyl, Targus and Avandra became stronger than any god could’ve imagined. Especially Pelor and Mystryl, both of whom had absorbed what they could from Ao when they destroyed him. Yet it did not change that Death lead to uncertainty and chaos.

See, Ao just vanished, or so the other gods thought. Only those involved, plus Jergal and Ioun, knew what happened to Ao. All thr others could sense, suddenly, that he was gone and they had new abilities. When Mystryl told them that Ao had given himself for them to create, they believed. It was their dark and hidden secret.

Pelor commanded his son to hide the Heart, hide it some where it could never be found. So in the lowest plane he could fine, he made a mountain with nine distinct layers, surrounded it by a River, and put the heart at the bottom. Lathander was given command of the Peak, and granted his friends and colleagues positions all throughout the length of the monument. It was there that Lathander stored and processed souls before granting them to the betrayers.

It wasn’t until a young mortal woman, who’s name has faded from existence, was able to make a spell. She had lost her family in tragedy after calamity, watched with her magical talent as they were split and separate, so the family could not rest in peace. So she made a spell, coalescing all the pieces of Ao she could and binding them to herself. In a moment, the mortal girl had become a Goddess. Cloaked in the rotting and black power of Ao, she flew to the Land of the Dead, beseeching the Lord of the Dead to grant mercy to the dead.

But Jergal could not grant mercy, for he was not the one who was inflicting their torment. He was the God of Death, yes, and he took the Souls when their time had ended, but he did not own the Souls. He did not want to. So he allowed them to do as they wished after he collected them. It mattered not to Jergal if a Mortal’s spirit was locked in Elysium or the Elemental plane of fire. And so, as her domain, she became the Shepherd of Dead, and their judge. When Lathander went to retrieve his harvest from the Astral Sea, he was shocked to find it nearly empty.

The Raven Queen, for she had shed her mortal name, met with God and named him fiend. Souls, all Souls, would go through her before she decided where to take them. Enraged, Lathander took upon a fearsome aspect of red skin, leathern wings, Fangs and several sets of Horns. Wing against wing, claw against talon, the newly made Goddess held firm. Her mastery of magic had only enhanced upon her apotheosis and was able to match the child of the Sun and Magic. For in claiming her mantle, she was granted access to the strings of fate, and with it she learned of the Betrayer 'secret.

They were gone speaking for a time, and when they were finished, Lathander was smirking. The Betrayers would keep their secrets, and they would receive their souls still. But now, any Mortal who pledged themselves to a God would be escorted by the Raven Queen to the Astral Sea

Several others followed the Raven Queen to Godhood, but with intentions less pure. The Dead Three were mortals who spread Chaos and Death in the realm of Mortals, and eventually they fought their way to Jergal. Instead of a battle, Jergal instead lifted each of them to godhood, allowing them to choose thier own domains. Bane chose Tyranny and Power, Myrkul chose to be master over all the dead, and Bhaal wished to unleash his bloodlust on a scale never dreamt of. But Jergal had tricked them - by taking a divine seat, they were bound by all the laws of Gods and they lost their ability to act without the Divine noticing - and possibly stopping them. Yet, as Custodian of the Dead, Myrkul allowed Necromancers to summon vast hoards of undead, Bhaal and his daughters unleashed plague and suffering en-mass and Bane’s patronage aided the darkest of Despots. And so, Mystryl incarnated in mortal form and guided two mortals to godhood. Cyric, who’s position of strife and chaos would destroy Bane’s kingdoms and shatter the control of Myrkul’s necromancers. Kelemvor, who would be the Judge of the Dead - giving souls their sentences so that they would not be fodder for summoning. But Mystryl had grown wroth at the impetuous mortals who thought they could be Gods - and so she found a Necromancer of phenomenal power known for his hoarding of knowledge and secret. And so, she whispered to him the secrets of Ascension, knowing that he would then wipe out all other sources of that information so that he alone amongst mortals could ascend. And so, Vecna rose as a Divine and went to claim the crown of the dead - only for Mystryl to correct that false assumption. Vecna would be the God of Secrets and a patron of necromancers - but he was still bound to the laws of Magic. Mystryl’s laws.

Such was the status quo of the Age of Wonder, and for seven thousand years, there was peace. Consistency ruled the heavens and the mortals worshipped as their gods walked the earth. Millions of legends come from this period, where even the most mundane of mortals could sprout an oasis in a desert or incinerate a beast. The greatest of these mages met in the Ivory City of Heaven, meditating on the nature of the Universe and Ao.

For Ao’s name was still known, the Everything was still worshipped. The revered Missing God who had given Themselves to oblivion to allow their mortality - or so the Gods told them, and the Betrayers, Ioun, the Raven Queen and Jergal were not inclined to argue. And so They continued to receive worship and, like all other deities, They received power from it.

And in the Elemental Chaos, They took form.

The Doom would come from Karsus, the greatest living Wizard and Emperor of Netheril. His home city, Nether, had been a piss water port on the coast of the great inland sea. When Karsus was a boy, the town was besieged by a dragon. Karsus, only a child, ripped a hole into Baator’s second level, stole several hundred of Mephistopheles servants, dominated them and tore the dragon to shreds. Over the next several hundred years of his life, he acquired magic and power unseen since the ascension of the Raven Queen, helped along by Mephistopheles, who had become fond of the mortal.

Karsus learned of the ritual that the Raven Queen had attempted, but Karsus wanted more. Made of Pure Earth, forged in the flames of the Fire Plane, quenched in the Sea of the Water Plane, and carved by the True Wind of plane of Air - Karsus forged his terrible artifact. The Crown of Karsus, a twisted mockery of a Tablet. And through that, he tried to ascend. He called all the fragments of Ao to himself that he could. And for just a single instant, Karsus was everything. And then he felt himself be carbed off and seperated, madness fracturing him as Ao had, the history of everything filling and breaking his mind until the spell was complete.

Karsus was gone, and emerging around a cold void was Tharizdum. All of Ao’s hate and anger and rage - all They had left - in an all consuming storm of a god. Tharizdum was Ao’s vengence, and It was set on consuming all that there was, returning everything to Itself so that It could never be betrayed by Its children again.

In Baator, the Heart burst itself, forming a pit of unending depth, and from each layer would step the Demons. Robbed of his ability to make true life, all Tharizdum could do was pour Itself into these beings, and their infinite numbers all hated as much as It did. They, too, entered the Primer Material, tearing through the Abyss and in to aid their father by punishing all the little mortals.

Corellon and his allies took themselves to the Feywilds, using the Chaos of the realm to their advantage as they battled Demons. Gruumsh, seeing the opportunity to finally claim his brother’s crown, betrayed the Fey by opening a portal to the Abyss within the valley that divided Seelie and Unseelie. Orcus, Exarch of Gruumsh and his demi-god son, had no idea about his father’s betrayal, and flew to do battle with Zehir, the Cloaked Corrupter. The Serpent God bit Orcus, injecting into him the pure Abyss. Orcus was twisted by the venom, his traits exagersted into a monstrous mockery of an already wicked god. While this was happening, Gruumsh had dueled Corellon for the crown once again, freezing only when he saw his son turned into a Demon. Corellon used the moment of weakness to stab Gruumsh through the eye, and banishing him and hid followers from the Feywilds. Yet it was too late - Zehir was already here, and was now aided by Orcus the Necromancer.

Grumbar, Margrave of Stone, lumbered into the Prime Materiel and did battle with Tharizdum. The massive Earth titan collided with a storm of chaos and raw creation, fists the size of islands cracking against It. But Tharizdum did not stumble, did not break, and began shredding the Fourthborn. All the while, Demons feasted and rampaged through the country sides. The Gods were deafened by unanswered prayers. And then Grumbar was pierced clean through the chest.

It was then, rising with the morning sun, that Pelor charged into the fray with his heavenly host, while in the west, Lathander rose, a dark reflection of his father, with an army of his Devils and mounted upon the Ember Phoenix. Father and Son baited and pulled Tharizdum with them, granting Grumbar some reprieve before he was set upon by Torog.

Coming to rescue their brother, the remaining Material Sovereigns emerged to do battle with demon lords. They were, however, too late for Grumbar. In his weakness and before aid could arrive, the Crawling King burrowed into the Titan’s flesh, carving out tunnels and opening tears into other planes. It was too much for the Earth titan, and he collapsed into the inland sea, making the Hollow Hills.

Ioun had seen the murder of Ao by her daughter and grandson, yet had stayed silent. Mum. If Ao were to return, Ioun would serve Them again, and gladly. But Tharizdum had none of Ao’s mercy or creativity - simply a drive to end everything.

And so, Ioun did what she did best - think. Tharizdum could not be destroyed, nor could It be overpowered with strength. And so, Ioun told Mystryl and Pelor how to defeat Tharizdum - bind him.

While Lathander and Pelor dueled the Storm, Ioun was carving a third tablet - a true tablet, unlike Karsus’ abomination. Gond and Moradin forged manacles of adamantine, enchanted to stay solid even against the Chaos of the Void.

Pelor, using all his strength and power, struck at the God, and the impact shattered the land and broke the mountain. It was only due to the bravery and skill of the maid Mahthillidis that the city Lagharic survived the blast, as every other structure, from mountains to forest, were scorched snd blasted away from the blow. Weakened temporarily, Mystryl used the Weave to ensnare Tharizdum, Kord pulling hard on the Weave as he held It down. Ioun chanted as Lathander bound him in Adamntine Manacles and Mystryl fought to cage all that he was. With Its final, angry strike, Tharizdum slew Mystryl and in that moment, all Magic died too. Tears of flame dowm his cheek, Lathander rode Desirat straight to the Hells, dragging the Chained God behind him. It was only when Baator Mountain pierced through Tharizdum like a lance, shattering what was left of It’s mind. Where he had hidden the Heart was now the opening of the Abyss, and so Lathander reclaimed the Heart and chucked Tharizdum into the Abyss.

Without Tharizdum opening rifts and forging demon lords out of the environment and things around It, the rallied and inspired Gods were able to banish the last of the demons, but with great loss.

Besides Mystryl, hundreds of spirits and lesser gods were killed or corrupted into demons, and Targus simply vanished. The second the Abyss opened, Targus brandished his war axe and rode his bull mount down, never to be heard from again. That was not Mystryl’s fate.

The Web of Fate and souls needed to be replaced, and Mystryl had prepared for the posdibility of her death. She seperated some of her divine spark and entrusted it to the Raven Queen. When the dust cleared and all was well, the Raven Queen released that spark. Soon, it grew, and then Ioun was with it, teaching it. And then Mystra was born, and she set about restoring the Weave.

Lathander, bloody and injured and mourning his lost mother, took refuge in his holy city, Lagharic. He had expected ruins but when it was in one piece and he learned a Mortal woman was responsible for its safekeeping, he went to her. He granted her a Crown of Infernal Iron and named her as Queen and Mother of his people. For those who had been in the blast radius of Pelor’s strike and survived, they were forever altered. They adopted the form that Lathander had - horned and barb tailed - or they had residue of the divine glow in their skin. They were a people apart now, changed. And Mathildis and her son with Lathander, who had taken upon the name Asmodeus, Gerald would start a dynasty that would last for over a thousand years

#dnd #dnd5e #dnd oc #dnd setting #forgotten realms #greyhawk #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #i put so much effort into this #its nuts #But i love it so much

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