The Myth of Creation

The Stories of Chaos and Order

Every culture on these lands has its own stories of Chaos and Order, of the beginning of life on Deuslair. You can learn about most of them from scholars, historians, and well-rounded explorers, but there is one that cannot be so easily found. Yv’anda, the Dryads that have inhabited the woods known to you as Banewood Asylum since the first tree bloomed to life, made sure of it. Many humans claimed to have glimpsed at the hidden knowledge, to have befriended an Yv’anda and learned its secrets, but none of them have been truthful. Not one of them understood the world as the Dryads do. Perhaps you’ll be the first. Ah, but dare I say—understanding their truth might change you, for better or worse.

The Secrets of The Oldest Tree

You won't hear about that from your priests or teachers. No Yv’anda will speak of it, either, for the knowledge about the creation of humans is a dark secret buried in the roots of the Oldest Tree —and it is there for a good reason. Eons have passed since Chaos and Order fought and left the world to its own devices. In that time, plants grew, animals provided, Yv’anda remembered, and humans—we changed. We evolved, created our own civilizations, and conquered the continent. The Ancient Yv’andas watched our progress, had seen our kindness and our cruelty, and decided to simply let us forget. After all, it was not our purpose to remember, was it?

Some of us believe in Gods, following and worshipping Order, unaware that our existence would have been different had it not been too weak to bind us. Some of us believe in science, shunning the idea of higher beings. And some of us forget that it has any importance at all. But the Yv’anda remember our origin and continue their watch. Every year, they bury their memories in the roots of the Oldest Tree, immortalizing our deeds—the foundation of Dragsa, the birth of Queen Anara, and her reign. The creation of beastkin and their slavery. And yet, despite this vigilance, they remain silent, allowing us to stumble through our own hubris.

The Legend of Bane and his Children

There is a unique and powerful magic in names; what we name, we can understand. So, why are these woods called Banewood? This one secret has become a legend amongst Yv’anda, has trickled down to the Kutauri, Kril, and Medusas, and whenever you sit with them for the evening, there’s a chance that it’ll be told. I suggest you listen to it carefully and take to heart the lessons it teaches, for at its core, the Legend of Bane involves humans.

The Promise of Change

Once upon a time, there was a little village nestled at the foot of the mountain. Though its name is long lost and its inhabitants forgotten, there’s one person the Dryads remember fondly. A child that was born with a promise of change. A boy who grew up curious, asking questions and yearning for knowledge. And finally, a man who came to know the very definition of regret.

Bane was an ordinary Human on the outside, with an extraordinary mind. When he saw how the villagers fought with Dryads for every cut tree and how they challenged Krils for every piece of mined ore, he was the only one to ask: why? Curious, one day he dared to venture into the forest, making sure to carry neither a weapon nor a tool. Yv’anda noticed his presence and though they were prepared to defend their home, they soon discovered that they didn’t have to. Bane had an inquisitive soul and an open mind. He quickly befriended the tribe and convinced the Dryads to allow humans to collect fallen trees for wood. In exchange, humans would share their innovations freely.

The Seeds of Ambition

With time, similar deals followed. Kril allowed the villagers to mine iron in exchange for tools and trinkets, and Sirens let them fish in exchange for songs and tales. For years, humans fit in, as if Order itself placed them there. Bane met a woman named Ra and together they started a family. But as he grew older, the true nature of humankind twisted his children.

Astrid’s Defiance

Astrid, his precious daughter, was the first human to conquer the seas. She invented faster, more durable ships and returned to the village with a whale she had killed herself. Her ships could endure the harshest of storms and her crew could navigate the waters with ease. Soon, there was nothing that could stop her voyages—but Sirens and their request for tales. Astrid, too busy with perfecting her trade, forgot how to sing and craft stories. When the Sirens rejected her improvised tale, she reached for her harpoon. With blood still fresh in the salty waters, Astrid felt like a goddess.

Abraham’s Greed

Abraham, Bane’s only son, had no mind for seas or long journeys. His practical mind was always focused on providing for their village. When coal and iron became insufficient, he went to the caves of the Kril’s Mountains and after thirty days in darkness, found gold. The metal could not be used to make either tools or weapons, but its enchanting glimmer wedged itself into Abraham’s heart. He ordered his men to mine it, disregarding Kirl’s distressed warnings. Then the world of humans shifted. Golden jewelry and trinkets became a symbol of status and soon, the first life was forfeited in its name.

Afrafasti’s Fall

Afrafasti was born different—a child with both sexes in one body, and talent for magic. Following legends of gods who were also neither male nor female, for years Afrafasti thought of themselves as the favorite. With Ra’s almost undivided attention and Bane’s gentle hand to guide them, Afrafasti lacked nothing. But that was the beginning of their downfall. They were friends of the Sirens and of Kril, but most of all, they were followers of Bane's footsteps of Yv’anda. It was Afrafasti who first discovered what you now know as the Root of Life. A little crystal in a cave, deep in the forest, but so potent in magic that Afrafasti could not leave it be. In no time they discovered its healing properties and used it to help the villagers. They kept it a secret from Bane and Ra, and instead pridefully called themselves: the Heavenly Healer. The allure of power was too much. The more they used this power, the more strain it put on their mind and soul. The selfless act of healing changed, as they started to ask for things and deeds, more and more each year. After a while, they would not even lift a finger if the reward was not up to their demands. Their soul was slowly being corrupted by Chaos without anyone noticing.

The Turning of the Tides

Years passed, while the Dryads, Kril, and Sirens watched in horror as humans changed themselves and the world around them. The agreements made by Bane barely held, with tensions rising and blood spilling, shrouded in darkness. Sirens could not bear to see the cruelty born in the hearts of humans nor the slaughter of their kin. They decided to leave this land—free like the water flowing in the vast expanses of the ocean, they went to realms beyond human grasp. The Kril became reclusive and stopped trusting humans as they did at the beginning. Yv’anda silently observed, as they did in the centuries before.

The Tragedy of Bane

Meanwhile, three siblings plotted against their father as they could no longer stop their aspirations and desires. One day they set a trap under the innocent guise of inviting him to a family dinner. In their greed, pride, and lust for power, they forgot—as many humans did in the past—that Bane was never one of them and that his biggest strength was his mind. Afrafasti started slowly gathering magic into a crystal in their hand, ready to unleash it at a moment's notice. Astrid reached for her weapons with determination in her eyes. And then the men hired by Abraham surrounded him. Though his heart broke when all three of his children were ready to kill him, he was prepared and acted without hesitation. He cast a spell so powerful that even the crystal shard in Afrafasti’s hand could do nothing to break it.

The roots of the Oldest Tree sprung from the ground, crushing the men and imprisoning his children—forever. Bane returned to the forest, never to set foot outside of it again. Yv’anda acknowledged his noble sacrifice, the blood of his own children spilled and their spirits bound to the tree. But it was too little, too late. Ra, outraged at her husband’s lack of mercy, riled the men and declared war on all friends of Bane. Soon, she took another husband, and in honor of her lost children, named their first daughter An'ra—wrath of Ra.

The Curse of Banewood

In his last breath, Bane tugged at the magical core of the world, shredding his soul in the process, but managing to focus enough for one more spell. “No kin of Ra, no subject to her whims, shall ever survive in these woods. No human shall ever cut a tree or take a life, for as long as my will lasts.” The spirits of his children, guided by magic, rose from the roots of the Oldest Tree and bound by their father’s last request, swore to protect the forest.

The Forgotten Truths

After several dozen centuries, we forgot the true origins of our Queen, the descendant of An’ra, Daughter of Ra. Anara has always been there, ruling over Dragsa and pushing humans towards innovation and greatness. What can Yv’anda know of her and her kin? Is there even more to this story? It remains an undisputed fact that the Queen has never set foot in Banewood. That her armies have never conquered the whole land of Kallonia. It is no wonder then, why Kutauri fled there. The legend of Bane lives on and you can find traces of it all throughout the forest. The biggest clearing, inhabited by Kutauri and Yv’anda is called Bane’s Glade, for that is where the man built his homestead. Parents tell children amazing stories of Bane and his adventures, though most of them have little in common with truth. I’ve prepared for you a handy dictionary of phrases and idioms that sprung from this legend.

So, adventurer, take heed of these tales. Not all lessons come from books, and not all truths are pleasant to bear. Remember, the forest keeps its secrets, but it is always listening.

— Dorian Frostquill