The Chronicles of Glosmordin Where the god's whispers echo on the winds & dance through the air we breath

For eternity, Glosmordin moved in perfect balance. The silent Primordials - Janek of Truth, Mytr of Creation, Valinos and Necrom - watched without intervening. The Pillars of the Sevenfold Spire tended existence from their celestial realms, hearing every prayer. Their sevenfold will shaped all things.   Then came the God Chorus.   The words that should never have been spoken tore through Glosmordin's fabric. Now the world wears its changes like a poorly mended garment - the shape still familiar, but the fit all wrong. Where once Valinos' light and Necrom's shadow danced in measured steps, now stranger rhythms pulse through the wounded earth.   Magic crackles with newborn hunger across Glosmordin's skin. Beasts that should not exist stalk the edges of firelight. The worthy and the wretched alike find their flesh remembering older shapes. Forgotten paths grow faint while new ones bleed through, their borders raw and untended. Through it all walk the new gods - not as stewards, but as children who have found Janek and Mytr's tools, while jealous eyes watch from the fraying edges.   The Pillars still hear, still watch. But their creation has slipped its leash. What comes next depends on who dares to grasp the threads... and what comes crawling through the torn seams.