'Before all of existence. A time before time. In a place known as 'the beginning'. It was a place before even Arwen's tapestry of stars graced our beloved skies and the cosmos surrounding us was nought but an infinite void.

  In a time before time. There was a place known as ‘the beginning’. It was a place that existed before even Arwen’s tapestry of stars graced our beloved skies and the cosmos surrounding us was nought but a void.

  In that place; the beginning, stood two beings. Divine beings, those who existed not as a product of creation but alongside it.

  Arwen and Arvos.

  They stood together within the darkness of the void. Guardians of the System. Because even that which embodies omnipotence itself needs allies in the darkness.

  But here, in that place, at that moment. One only fathomable to mortals as ‘then’ something happened—something that hangs over us all as both a blessing and a curse.

  Arwen, the Weavers of Stars and Arvos, the Forger of Elements, were in conflict with the Cosmos itself. They had sensed something within it, a darkness that embedded itself within their charge: the System.

  The battle that raged within the void was beyond any mortal understanding as the divine beings took hold of the lifeblood of existence and bent it to their will; Mana, it yielded to their will as easily as an artist shaped clay.

  Their Mana collided with the Essence of the Cosmos and reality began to crumble. The void quaked and cracks in the eternal domain began to show.

  In a battle that raged for more than a millennia, in which there was no sign of the corruption dwindling, something had to give. And, it did.

  The void itself split, an explosion of unrestrained energy emerged—a triumvirate of the Divine, the Cosmos and the Void merged into a cataclysmic shard that tore through reality.

  From this unfathomable energy formed a ball of matter. A composite of both minerals and elements. This ball of matter would go on to be known as Eridoria.

  Eridoria stood, a lone planet nestled in the vastness of a crumbling void.

  It was here that the conflict spanning an indescribable number of years came to a close. That the Gods and the Cosmos finally realised the folly of their conflict.

  They had overlooked the repercussions of their exchanges. They had created something, new. Something, unknown.

  Their hearts stirred with a profound feeling—one that they had never expected to feel as Gods.

  And, just like that, their attention turned to the lone celestial body. Like mothers drawn to their child, they gazed with both interest and adoration.

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  In a moment of impulsive brilliance, Arvos channelled his fiery spirit into the void. Calling forth an orb of infinite energy to sustain their creation. Arwen, following instinctually behind, infused her very soul into the void and projected the reflection of her own spirit. The endless tapestry of stars was born. Thousands upon thousands of symbols of hope lit up their child's skies, each a promise of unwritten futures.

  Then together, they thrust their Mana into the void and a flood of nebulae and interstellar clouds fell between the stars.

  They looked on at their new-born child as the golden rays of the sun showered Eridoria, awakening the seeds of life. They looked on as the stars, nebulae and interstellar clouds spread hues of divine colour across the skies and then they looked at each other. Clasping hands they projected their journey and love.

  Another crack in reality formed adjacent to Eridoria and out emerged another small ball of life. A moon. A silent guardian to accompany their child—offering companionship in its isolation.

  Yet, as the gods marvelled at this creation, the cosmos stirred, and in its unending wisdom and self-doubt, it pushed its own dark Essence over their adolescent worldscape.

  The essence fell like a cloud of darkness over the stars, it seeped into the nebulae, clawed into the sun and worst of all; it embraced their child.

  Balance, balance was a fact of existence, one not even the Gods could avoid.

  What could be the balance to life?—Death.

  What was the balance of divinity? —Corruption.

  Thus, at the end of the beginning stood Eridoria, her serene moon and skies filled with hope and wonder, cursed eternally by the shadow of the Cosmos's corruption.

  That is where our tale begins, where the tale of Eridoria began, the conflict in which our Saints and Prophets continue in the name of the Twins throughout all of our history.

  They watch over us still. The Twins, sending guidance through their charge, the System in order to safeguard us against the Essence of Corruption itself.

  The Book of Eridoria, Chapter of the First Dawn.'

  "What—What a load of shit." He spat as he closed the tome, his thick gauntleted hands crushing the spine as the flimsy pages of these 'Gods' fell around him. He looked out ahead, dust and rubble filled his vision as the cathedral like structure fell around him. Tendrils of shadow embedding themselves like vines across the stonework.

  The screaming had stopped at least, he hated it when the vermin kept squealing. Large spikes of earth and stone pierced through the slabbed flooring and each held an impaled figure at the end of it, the spikes were over a dozen foot tall and embedded the vermin with foot long trunks.

  He grimaced at how utterly pathetic they were. Them and their 'Gods'. None of it would remain, that much had been decreed. He didn't fully understand why they had sent him—it would've taken minutes for the Elders. "Well, I guess a few decades here is fine. I just wish they weren't all so dull—"

  His mutterings were cut off as he heard a groan from the broken pews below him. "—Really?" he grunted as he dropped the tome and raised his right hand. Crimson mist flowed from his hand and formed a long cylindrical smoke—that solidified within a fraction of a second. A long sinewy, bone like spear emerged, tinted with a red hue. He flicked his wrist and without hesitation the meters long spear thrust through the air with a clap as air was rent asunder.

  The squeal became a short scream—that quickly cut off altogether as he felt the pathetic forms essence flow into the air.

  "Order Acolyte Slain x 1."

  "Total Order Acolytes Slain x 174"

  He grunted as he dismissed the notifications instinctively. Before pulling up his Quest screen.

  "Quest Objective Completed: Eliminate the Order Chapter - Chapter of the Ironfang 1/1"

  The man smiled contently to himself as he dismissed the final notification and began to stroll out of the crumbling cathedral, hands in his pockets.

  “New Quest Objective Gained…”