devas, and their virtue was the knowledge of things that are. The other,
bright and unyielding, was served by asuras, and their virtue was the
knowledge of things that are yet to come. They warred over the cosmos they
had fashioned of earth, water, fire and air, still only partly made, but
with the dim ancestors of souls already weaving a web of prayer and simple
sacrifice for which the gods hungered.
With their knowledge of the things that were, the first pantheon searched
the planes and found great weapons which they used to sieze control of the
cosmos, driving their rivals to the prayerless, uncreated wastes beyond.
With their knowledge of things that might yet be, the second pantheon waited
patiently, conspiring to bring about the birth of a champion with the
strength and power to take creation for their people.
In time, the champion was born: a great and terrible god with hundreds of
serpents for heads and hundreds of pairs of fiery asuras' wings. It flew
into the heart of the devic host and created much devestation: none of the
devas' patrons had a weapon that could match it. Soon, it was clear that the
asuras and their patrons would have the cosmos for themselves, and it would
be the devas and their gods who would be forced to dwell in the wastes. In
desperation, the harried pantheon searched the multiverse for things that
were.
Using a small portion of the remaining prayers they had gathered from the
souls below them, they created a lure and placed it as far away from their
universe as they could find: a place of pure, uncreated earth, in a hollow
where no new prayers could go and whose strength and solidity could stop a
slayer of gods. They summoned a wind across the planes to blow the smell of
prayers to their enemies' champion. Prayers then smelled like they do today:
like incense, sweat, and burning flesh. The champion turned from its path of
destruction to investigate the prayers. Asuras, aware of what would happen,
tried to warn it off, but it didn't listen. When it crawled within the earth
the devas buried it alive.
They stationed guardians in the tunnels around its tomb to prevent anyone
from digging it up. Then they went on with the business of ruling their
universe. Over time the two pantheons eventually merged and split in a
thousand different ways, and the buried champion and its deva guardians were
left forgotten and redundant.
This brings us to the present day. The following things have happened:
1. The ancient asuras left behind a prophesy, speaking of a mighty warlord
that would be set free if fed enough prayers.
2. The prophesy was found and recopied by mortal sages on the world the gods
had made; over the generations it became corrupted as the ancient temples
were taken over by a new faith that included the same gods but was designed
for a very different people. The priests of the new faith interpreted the
prophesies as being fulfilled by their religions' hero, and mostly forgot
about it. A holy one of the older, displaced people rediscovered the text
and communed with the gods. Based on their memories, he declared that the
prophesy referred to a wicked monster, and told his followers that the
invaders were but a harbringer of its coming. Furious over this blasphemy,
the conquerers persecuted the other race all the more. Conflicting prayers
and rituals are devised both to strengthen the hero of a people and to
imprison a terrible monster. All of them rise to the Outer Planes, feeding
the free gods, leaving the prisoner of Earth blind and senseless of them.
3. On the Elemental Plane of Earth, the guardians still exist. They have
been changed by their long and tireless servitude and by the alien
environment in which they're forced to live. Their wings have become a
second pair of arms sprouting from their backs, and they've grown a second
face on the backs of their heads in order to better make use of these
appendages. Their flesh has become thick and hard, the color of granite
streaked with hues from other minerals. In order to prevent their sensory
deprivation from driving them insane, they use their paired mouths to
constantly sing, and their echoing songs have begun to attract the attention
of the Heartfolk, the earth elementals and their kin. Many of them now
follow a quasi-religion based on the guardians' lyrics.
The PCs initially hear only rumors of these events in the course of their
adventures. They may encounter deva and asuras servants of one of the many
pantheons descended from the initial two making preparations for the coming
of the Monster or quarreling with those who are. They may encounter people
from the world the patrons of the devas and asuras had made, and witness
their attacks and insurgencies. Meeting distinctive NPCs, they may feel
inclined to favor one cause or the other. Eventually they will meet
travelers from the Elemental Plane of Earth, perhaps summoned by their own
spells, and those travelers will be singing. They sing strange, complex
songs, at once plaintive, weary, mournful, stoic, and hopeful, in a
forgotten language -- possibly the inspiration for a major modern tongue
such as the one the svirfneblin speak, or the dwarves. If asked, they will
say that the songs were invented by crying angels, creatures for whom the
earth is both a tragedy and their only life. The singing Heartfolk feel this
way too: they long for variety outside the single element they know, but
know they could not long survive it, and so at once mourn and celebrate the
existence of the other planes.
Autobiography of a priestess of the new faith:
"I felt my spiritual awakening at the age of ten, when I saw the great
temple in the capitol city for the first time. The great soaring sculptures
of the gods enveloped me with a feeling of infinite compassion. It was then
that I realized that this -- our -- religion wasn't something to be feared.
There was no monster here; it was only the gods. I ran away from my father's
clan and devoted my life to helping my people understand the truth."
Autobiography of a warrior of the old faith:
"Our village shrine was torn down by stern fanatics when I was only ten. Our
priest was killed in the struggle. They'll never leave us alone until we
abandon our traditions, our language, and our beliefs and accept this
foreign mess, this bastard combination of things both alien and mockingly
familiar, into the secret parts of our hearts. That is why I've accepted the
arms of a paladin, so that I can use my sword of truth to fight their lies
with the only thing they understand: force."
Tying it all together is more tricky. One way to do it would be to set it
up as a traditional quest, perhaps deliberately patterned after the mission
to Pandemonium in Dead Gods. An evil creature, impersonating an ancient
hero, seeks to be freed from its rightful jail, and the PCs are the only
ones who can stop it in time by searching for artifacts, ancient tools of
those who know what is, that can destroy it. The proxy who takes the form
of the legendary Hero will do what he can to aid them, possibly allying with
the servants of the older faith in order to do it. Those seeking to free it
are the singing elementals, who want to relieve their mentors of their
burden and care little for outer planar politics.
The weapons, spears made of milk and ash, were not enough to stop the
Monster the first time, but as the creature was distracted they tasted of
its blood, gaining something of its power, which has doubtless waned over
time.
If the PCs do enough searching, they might learn that no one really
remembers the nature of the imprisoned thing, not even the gods. If this is
the case, they may use their artifacts to prevent the celestials from doing
any damage as they open the prison.
The ones who know the most about the situation are the dharum suhn, ageless
and unchanging godlike creatures of elemental earth, epitomizing the
qualities of stability, strength, endurance, wisdom, contemplation, and
immovability.
The environment in Elemental Earth near the ancient prison is a confusing
one, with things like dao, sandmen, chaggrin, and horde creatures faithful
and reformed devotees of the ancient songs and peacefully coexisting with
their traditional enemies -- like the shad, pech, erdeen, earth mephits, and
kryst -- and prideful and angry dao and elementals demanding they treat the
Plane of Earth with the respect it deserves. Both sides begin raiding one
another; it's a clash of faiths like that on the Material and Outer Planes.
Shad tribes name themselves after types of plants. What only their elder
druids know is that the shad are intended as instruments of conquest by
powers of the Elemental Plane of Wood. The singing shad seek to avoid this
fate, as they feel more kinship with their fellow singers. Still, even
among them the mysterious Greater Shad are being born.
Indifferent ending:
Perhaps some things are best left alone. We wish the celestials and
elementals and mortals and things good luck and go away.
Sad ending:
The weapons of destruction are readied, and the celestial choirs ready their
sacred fire.
"The time is nigh," says the hero. "Look! The Calendar of Shame is aligning!
Quickly, pour the contents of the crucible of prayers into the trough!"
If the PCs do, the wall begins to tremble with ancient power.
"Now! Plunge the spears into the pool!"
The stormy energy of the spears enters the water and travels into the pit.
There is a horrifying scream as a creature climbs out of it, enveloped in
lightning and agony.
Despite everything, it's singing. From two mouths. As it dies, it lifts its
four arms in supplication.
One of the guardians steps forward. Enduring the pain, it holds one of the
dying creature's hands and sings along. One by one, the guardians all come
forward, and despite the burns they comfort their prisoner, who has become
so like them, until its body fades into the Astral void.
Happy ending:
Despite the best efforts of the celestials, the seals are broken at long
last. Everyone tenses as the Monster begins to exit its ancient tomb, and
despite the risk, spells of great destruction are readied. The guardians,
still singing, look on, their songs a mixture of anguish and secret relief.
Out of the pit climbs a figure. Its skin is the gray of granite tinted with
the hues of many other minerals. It has a pair of arms facing towards its
front, and another pair opposite. It has a face on both sides of its head.
Both of its mouths are singing. One of its faces turns towards its
guardians, its eyes bright with long-imprisoned tears.
"My only friends," it sings in their ancient language. "I can see you. I can
finally see you."
There are a confusing series of incredulous demands and gentle answers as
the figure's identity is confirmed. Imprisoned for countless years with no
sensations but the singing of its wardens, it began to recognize them as
common prisoners, as emphasize with them. Eventually, it became like them.
With their ancient burden lifted, the former jailers and jailed are free to
leave. Their inclination is to go to the upper planes and try to make a new
life there. The singing Heartfolk will be happy for them and wish them
farewell, but some will ultimately become jealous and needy and plot to
force them to return. If the PCs, aware of how much the former celestials
mean to the elementals, talk to them, they could be convinced to stay in the
Plane of Earth. After all, their old ways of life are long gone, and
they're really part of the elemental plane now. It could be that a life in
heavy Earth could be as free as one in the realms of the feuding gods.
(insert your own Scooby Doo or Thelma and Louise endings)