The Fall of the Forest Gods: Gartrin, Boria, and the Black Fire's Corruption

"In sacred groves where elder powers dwelt, two children of divine blood dreamed beyond their bounds. Their fall would drench the ancient woods in godly ichor, forever staining the very soil that birthed them."

Chronicles of the First Black Fire War

Before corruption scorched the realms, the ancient forests of Nolavor stood as monuments to natural order, where Nolavor and Liet-Nom maintained the delicate balance between growth and decay. Their offspring, Gartrin and Boria, grew amid eternal woodlands where deciduous and evergreen trees danced in divine harmony. Their romance flourished beneath primordial canopies, a love that seemed fated to perpetuate cycles as old as creation.   Yet beneath this façade of sylvan tranquility, a poisonous ambition took root. As first-generation Eeirendelios, both Gartrin and Boria wielded tremendous power, but they yearned for more. The ancient forests that had nurtured them became perceived shackles, binding them to traditions they had not chosen and domains they had not shaped.  

"They gave us dominion over saplings while they commanded the ancient groves. The Black Fire whispers of greater things - of forests that bow to our will alone."

Recovered fragment of Boria's private writings

When Malovatar's corruption first touched their realm, it found fertile soil in their discontent. The fallen fire god spoke of power unrestricted by the Drandsia Vatar, of a new order where younger deities could claim their true potential. His words found particular resonance with Boria, whose legendary beauty masked an inferno of suppressed ambition.   The seeds of betrayal sprouted slowly, like death cap mushrooms emerging after autumn rains. What began as clandestine meetings in shadow-cloaked groves evolved into subtle manipulations of their parents' divine energies. Gartrin and Boria learned to redirect the forest's natural corruption, typically cleansed through cycles of decay and rebirth, into channels that weakened the barriers against Black Fire's influence.  

In groves where ancient powers dwelt,
Two scions spurned their sacred trust,
Till shadows 'round their hearts did melt,
And turned their legacy to dust.

The Betrayer's Lament

Their ultimate treachery unfolded with devastating precision. Using intimate knowledge of their parents' domains, they corrupted the sacred sites that anchored Nolavor and Liet-Nom's power. Great forests transformed into battlegrounds where parent fought child, divine blood seeping into soil that had known only blessing for eons.   The catastrophe of the Matrix of Earth found them leading Malovatar's forces through Southern Lietnom. Neither traitor knew their parents had gathered there with other forest deities, attempting to heal the land through ancient rituals. When the matrix collapsed, its destructive energies amplified by the complex weave of forest magics, the devastation exceeded even the Black Fire's cruel calculations.  

"The sky turned black with burning leaves, while gods who had walked these woods since creation's dawn screamed their last. The very air crystallized, shattering like obsidian tears."

Account of a surviving dryad

Nolavor and Liet-Nom perished in the cataclysm, their divine essence scattered among the very trees they had tended since time's beginning. Witnessing their parents' destruction shattered Malovatar's hold over Gartrin and Boria, granting them terrible clarity. In that moment, they fully comprehended the horror of their choices.   The Matrix's collapse transformed the region into a nightmarish perversion of its former glory. Divine essence, twisted by Black Fire's corruption, saturated the land. Ancient trees mutated into carnivorous entities, their branches reaching for blood instead of sunlight. The soil turned venomous, nurturing only the most grotesque forms of life.  

"Let my face mirror death's visage, while yours remains a mask of life's beauty. Together we shall bear witness to our crimes until the last star falls."

Gartrin to Boria, after their transformation

Gartrin's punishment manifested physically—his noble countenance transformed into a skull-like mask, forever marking him as death's herald rather than life's guardian. Boria retained her beauty, but it became her curse, an eternal reminder of the purity they had sacrificed.   Their attempts at redemption spanned centuries. Through establishing the Reclaimers, they sought to preserve what remained of the natural order. Yet their efforts often backfired, as if the land remembered their betrayal and rejected their penance. Each purification ritual twisted into something darker, corrupted by the lingering taint of their sins.   The region now known as Nolavor stands as a dark mirror of its former splendor. Chaotic jungle spreads where orderly groves once flourished, fed by the lingering essence of fallen gods and the weight of divine guilt. The corruption runs deep, tainting everything it touches with mutations both subtle and profound.  

"In the darkest reaches, where shadows breed shadows, the fallen gods still walk their endless penance. Their grief poisons the land anew with each passing day."

Tales of the Corrupted Lands

The Reclaimers who followed them fractured into competing factions, some embracing increasingly extreme methods of preserving what remained. The Mistwatch emerged from this schism, their militant approach to conservation reflecting the harsh lessons learned from their patrons' fall.   Recent Years have seen Gartrin and Boria withdraw further into the northern reaches, their influence waning as new threats emerge. Some whisper they sense another catastrophe approaching, similar to the one that claimed their parents. Others suggest they have finally succumbed to the corruption they fought for so long.  

Through twisted groves where gods once strode,
Now corrupted branches reach and grasp,
Along paths where ancient guilt corrodes
All hope of redemption past.

The Dirge of Fallen Groves

Their legacy endures in every corrupted creature, every poisoned stream, every shadow-haunted grove of their domain. Each serves as a monument to divine betrayal and the price of unchecked ambition. The story of Gartrin and Boria stands as a warning that even gods can fall, and some sins leave wounds that time cannot heal.   The corruption they unleashed continues to spread, though more slowly now. New horrors emerge from the depths of Nolavor's twisted forests with each passing season. The Mistwatch maintains constant vigilance, knowing that the taint of the Black Fire lies dormant rather than defeated, waiting for moments of weakness to surge forth anew.  

"We guard not against what the forest has become, but against what it might yet be. The corruption dreams, and in its dreams, it remembers when gods walked these groves."

Mistwatch Captain's Log

The true extent of Gartrin and Boria's power remains unknown. Some scholars suggest their connection to the Black Fire fundamentally changed their divine nature, granting them abilities beyond their original domains. These dark gifts come with a price—their every attempt to heal or restore instead spreads subtle corruption, a cruel echo of their original betrayal.   Reports from the Mistwatch's deep forest patrols speak of massive shapes moving through the canopy on moonless nights, accompanied by whispered prayers and weeping. These sightings cluster around ancient shrines and sacred groves, suggesting the fallen gods still perform twisted versions of their original duties.   The physical transformation of their realm mirrors their spiritual corruption. Where Nolavor's forests once followed natural patterns of growth and decay, now chaos reigns. Trees grow in impossible shapes, their wood streaked with colors that hurt mortal eyes. Flowers bloom that drink blood instead of water, and fruits ripen that grant terrible visions to those desperate enough to eat them.   Throughout the northern reaches where Gartrin and Boria retreat, the corruption takes on more subtle forms. Rather than obvious mutations, it manifests in uncanny symmetries and profound wrongness that few can describe but all can feel. Visitors speak of sensing vast presences just beyond sight, and of hearing harmonies in the wind that make them question their own memories.  

"The forest remembers what it once was, and in its remembering lies our greatest danger. For in every seed of memory sleeps the potential for renewed corruption."

Reclaimer Archival Text

The Reclaimers maintain extensive records of Gartrin and Boria's appearances, trying to understand the patterns of their movement and the extent of their remaining power. These documents paint a picture of beings caught between divinity and corruption, unable to fully embrace either state.   Most troubling are the accounts of their rare interactions with mortals. Those who survive direct encounters with the fallen gods often develop strange abilities—an uncanny knack for making plants grow, or the power to communicate with trees. But these gifts inevitably twist their recipients, driving them to obsession and eventually madness.   Some among the Mistwatch whisper that Gartrin and Boria's withdrawal masks a deeper purpose. They suggest the fallen gods work to contain an even greater threat, using their corrupted power to hold back horrors that would otherwise consume what remains of their realm.  

"In their fall, they gained bitter wisdom. Perhaps only those who have been corrupted can truly understand corruption's nature—and how to fight it."

Unknown Reclaimer Scholar

The mystery of their continued existence raises uncomfortable questions about the nature of divinity itself. If gods can fall, can they truly die? Or are Gartrin and Boria's current forms simply another stage in an endless cycle of divine transformation?   As the Third Black Fire War looms on the horizon, some fear that Gartrin and Boria's story is not yet complete. The corruption they helped unleash grows stronger, feeding on the fear and conflict spreading across the realms. Their tragedy serves as both warning and prophecy—a reminder that the greatest threats often arise not from external enemies, but from the darkness within our own hearts.  

When gods fall from grace divine,
Their shadows stretch eternal-long,
Through forests dark where black fires shine,
And sacred oaths turn sour wrong.

Final stanza, The Betrayer's Lament