Origins (A Gonji Story)
In the remote reaches of Faerûn was an immense forest. And in that forest, there was a small magical grove. And in that magical grove lived a community of firbolgs, each family with their own dwelling, grown directly from the forest and woven into its tapestry, all nestled behind a magical wall which protects these Feywild explorers from the rest of the land and their problems.
And in that community there was one such dwelling, where a male firbolg paced in his library, lost among his books and scrolls. He stood roughly eight feet tall with pale blue skin, dressed in a brown caftan and a pair of trousers, darting from one bookshelf to another. His face was framed by a close-clipped brown beard which accentuated his long ears sprouting almost horizontally from his head. He was of average height for a firbolg but lacked the bulk of many of his kin. His brown eyes peered through Gnomish spectacles at a well-kept tome, chasing after some reference to a new rune discovered in the forest recently. And while the firbolg did not have names among their own people, among those in the outside world who have met him, he was known as Peren.
“Vader!”
Peren turned to see a young firbolg in the archway to his library. The resemblance was unmistakable between father and son, except that his son’s skin was tinged a pale green instead of a pale blue. Peren was annoyed at the interruption, and slightly angry that his son was not in bed, but he stifled those emotions in favor of the immense love he had for his son. He had never seen himself as a father, and despite his son’s strange skin condition, he had never been happier in his life. Between his work and his family, Peren had found peace few find in the multiverse.
“Ettin! You should be in bed, little giant!”
It was his pet name for his son, which meant ‘runt’ in the common tongue. His son was not yet old enough to choose a name for himself. Ettin was also the name of their distant two-headed giant cousins. Father and son would often re-enact the stories of their giant ancestors, including the myth of the Perversion of Demogorgon, which created the first ettin.
“I can’t sleep, Vader,” replied his son. It was a common ploy as his son grew older, but one that his father relished with delight.
“Would you like me to tell you a story?”
His son’s eyes widened in delight, and he toddled over on his five-year-old legs. Firbolgs come to full adulthood by thirty years of age, but Peren’s son was still small for his age, a growing concern among the community, along with his green skin. Peren was well practiced by now to keep that concern to himself, and still protected his son from the concern of others. His son knew none of this, however, just the love of his father and mother.
“Vader, tell me how it all began.”
“How what began, Ettin?”
“Everything.”
Peren’s eyes widened to match his son’s delight, his mind racing through the many different stories of the origin of everything. He did not think any of those stories was true, at least not exactly true, but they all have a bit of truth within them. The origin of everything, especially giantkind, was a central part of the mission of The Hidden Rune, the organization for which Peren worked. He had been to the Great Archive hidden in the Elemental Plane of Earth once in his life when he took his sacred oaths to seek out knowledge of the ancient giants. It was the one giant organization that welcomed, even relished the participation of firbolgs as part of the process, and mostly ignored The Ordning which organized most of the rest of giantkind into strict castes.
Peren reached down to pick up his son, holding him up with one arm while beginning to tidy up his workspace with the other, carrying his son around with slightly more effort. He wouldn’t be able to do this with him much longer, so he took his time to just savor the moment.
“Vader?”
“Yes, my son. How it all began…”
The oldest story we know comes from the dragons. In the beginning, the Great Dragon God Io came from the Far Realms, and with their immense powers, created the multiverse out of the chaos of the nearby realms. It was not the multiverse we know today, with its many planes and demi-planes, but consisted of the four elemental planes along with a single universe, and within that universe there was a single planet, known as the First World.
After the Great Dragon God Io created all this, they rested their immense dragon body on the First World and marveled at what they had accomplished. Others from the Far Realms attempted to breach into the Io’s multiverse, but its infinite edges were protected from its chaotic incursions. No one would destroy their creation. But it wasn’t long before Io became lonely. And so, Io created other living things out of their multiverse, first the tiniest creatures, then plants and animals, and then the sentient beings. All the sentient beings walked the planet, finding harmony within its ecosystem, and worshipped Io who had created them all. The first humans, the first elves, the first halflings… the very first of all the sentient beings existed on the First World, including the first giants. And among those first giants was a giant named Annam.
“The All-Father?!” exclaimed Peren’s son.
“Yes, Ettin. Annam was among the first giants created by Io. But this was before Annam had gained his powers. You see, on the First World, only Io was able to wield the powers of the elements and the multiverse itself. The first races were as normal as humans are today, perhaps even less, for even some humans retain an aptitude for magic within themselves.”
“What happened next?”
The First World and its inhabitants existed for a very long time, long enough for even the Great Dragon God Io to start growing old. For the multiverse was not a Gnomish timepiece, which can be started in motion and left running unattended. No, the Great Dragon God Io needed to constantly invest themselves and their power into the multiverse, to protect it from the continued incursions from the Far Realm, and to ensure all their creations would continue living indefinitely.
Io did not want their creation to wither away after their death. So, Io set about sharing the secrets of the multiverse with their children, teaching the sentient races about magic and physics while giving them the immense responsibility to maintain the multiverse. The sentient beings did not at first believe Io would pass, but they took to their new responsibilities with relish, shoring up the barrier along the multiverse’s infinite edges. A select few among the sentient beings within all the races became adept at these new tools and became something new. Something greater. They became the first gods, who took stewardship over their former kin for the coming years.
Eventually, the day came when the Great Dragon God Io died, known well in advance, so that all the sentient beings could return, so that Io’s creation could be with their creator in their final moments. A great silence fell across the gathered children of Io, and then Io’s immense body went slack and crumpled.
Io left two gifts for their children. The first gift was that the remainder of Io’s essence, all of their immense power brought from wherever Io originated, was transferred in a great radiating sphere of light, reaching out to the infinite edges of the multiverse, and infusing them into the barrier against the Far Realms. This barrier still exists today, despite the cracks which have opened, and will exist by the power of Io’s sacrifice for as long as we count time.
The second gift was an egg.
“An egg?! So, Io was a girl?” asked Peren’s son.
“No, Io was beyond our concepts of gender. Io simply was, and still is in some ways within the barrier between the multiverse and the Far Realms. Besides, there are millions of creatures within the multiverse which do not have genders. Or have many more than two.”
“Was Annam a boy?”
“Depends on who you ask. Most of giantkind would find it offensive to think of him as anything but a man, but that’s just what male giants have been saying for ages. We can never know, but I tend to think he was. And, of course, Diancastra, Annam’s demi-god daughter, certainly thinks of Annam as a male. Do you think it matters?”
“Probably to Annam,” mused Peren’s son. “But not me. What was in the egg?”
Peren smiled at his son, then continued.
After the remainder of Io’s power reinforced the barrier, the sentient beings went to examine what was left of Io’s corpse. The dragon form had been reduced to brittle bone and ash, slowly withering away in the wind of the First World. But within that ashy corpse was an unexpected sight: an egg. Not just an egg, but a dragon egg, one which vibrated with power.
Only the first gods were brave enough to approach the egg. Io had taught them many things in the previous age, preparing them to learn about the concept of death, but this moment was also teaching them about the concept of birth. The first gods were astounded at the possibility that they could create others just as Io had created them. And they were humbled at the thought of raising the child of Io.
The egg did not hatch right away. Centuries would pass as the power and vibration within the egg grew. The egg drew all sorts of power towards it, from far out into the multiverse, and gathered a growing storm around the egg. It was the first storm the First World had ever seen and it felt as if it was the last storm. But the egg still did not hatch.
The first gods spent their time passing the trait of reproduction into their kin by various means, encouraging them to have children and raise them with the knowledge of Io and the responsibility to protect the multiverse. After this project, they began to create the many planes which exist today, as realms which the first gods could inhabit just as Io had created the First World. It is even thought that this is when the primordials were created, new life directly from the elements themselves.
Eventually, the storm around the dragon egg began to accelerate in growth. The first gods, along with representatives of the first races, made the harrowing trek back to the First World to witness the Child of Io being born. The storm became chaotic, and the first gods sheltered their children, for that was how they saw their kin now. And after the storm reached its peak, a lightning bolt flashed down from the skies and cracked the egg in half, where not one, but two dragons tumbled out, biting and snapping at each other in fury.
The first gods stepped in to try and separate the dragons, who were still tiny, at least compared to Annam. The presence of a much larger being finally caught the attention of the warring twins, who looked with fear into the eyes of Annam, then separated from each other, seeking shelter in the surrounding rocks, and finding themselves surrounded by the first gods and their children.
“What were their names?” asked Peren’s son. Peren could tell that his son would choose a name soon, perhaps even one from this story. It was how many firbolgs chose their names, but even so, five years of age was still too young. But the stories would influence his son’s decision. Peren considered this a little longer. “Vader?”
“What? Yes, their names. On that day were born the two great children of Io: Bahamut and Tiamat.”
“And they lived in the egg together before being hatched?”
“According to the story. It is believed that Io thought their time shared in the egg would bring their children together, perhaps even create a bond between them like when twins are born among firbolgs and many other humanoid animals. But not so with dragons. Even twin dragons have their own eggs. But the Children of Io shared an egg for almost a thousand years before hatching. And during that time they created the deepest hate for one another.”
The first gods had another meeting, and they split up the twins to stop the fighting. Annam and a group of the first gods took Bahamut under their care, creating Mount Celestia to raise Bahamut in a newly created plane. Another group of the first gods took Tiamat under their care, creating Tiamat’s Lair to raise Tiamat in another newly created plane. The rest of the first gods turned their attention back to caring for the multiverse.
Most dragons grow into adulthood in a hundred years, but like their gestation in the egg, the Children of Io spent much longer growing into adulthood. The first gods attempted to have the siblings interact from time to time after their birth, but physical confrontation was always the result, even the dragons were taught language and their history. The Children of Io could have no reconciliation, but that didn’t stop their caretakers from blaming the other side for the continued inability to find peace between them. Slowly this anger built up on both sides, the conflict between the Children of Io becoming a conflict between the first gods involved in their upbringing. By the time the dragons came into adulthood, the multiverse had been divided into two sides: the forces of Bahamut and the forces of Tiamat.
And the First War began.
“They fought each other?”
Peren laughed. “They sure did. No one is sure who started it or why. The kind of conflict between Bahamut and Tiamat can have no resolution, but the first gods and many in the rest of the multiverse couldn’t bear the thought of Io’s children having enmity. It would mean that even the Great Dragon God Io could not control the multiverse they had created.”
“Did everyone fight?”
“Not everyone. But many did.”
The First War was incomprehensible to anyone who was not there. When gods go to war, especially in that early multiverse, where power was so concentrated among so few, the results are destructive on much greater levels. The very powers of creation were being wielded in ways which have never been seen since, ripping all the holes in the fabric of the multiverse we use today to cross between the worlds and planes. Elements were combined and disassembled. Space and time were manipulated in frightening ways. It was as if the very chaos of the Far Realms had manifested within the Io’s multiverse, and perhaps that wasn’t far from the truth.
Not everyone fought, however. The first gods who were not responsible raising the Children of Io were able to see where the conflict between the caretakers would lead. They understood what was at stake when gods go to war. And so they created their own plane, and imbued it with the collective power of creation which Io had left to each of them, to serve as a font for life throughout the multiverse itself. And thus the Feywild was born, and into the Feywild went the refugees from the first races — humans, elves, halflings, dwarves, and even the giants.
The inevitable happened when the war reached its peak. The final confrontation between the first gods commenced, which stemmed from the conflict nurtured within the egg which held of the Children of Io, and the echoes of which are still heard today in every conflict between two groups. In the midst of that battle, Bahamut and Tiamat met one last time, on the very ground on which they were born on the First World, and their combined force, magnified by the first gods which followed them, split the First World asunder, dividing it into a million pieces, and leaving most of the first races which had not fled to the Feywild to die, or stranded on the playground planes of the first gods.
“So everything was destroyed?”
“No. Nothing is ever created or destroyed, but just changes form, just like the food we eat turns into the energy to help us live. Just like how we can craft metal and wood into different shapes. But everything was scattered across the space within the multiverse. Many of the first races died. Even some of the first gods, as much as any of them can die.”
The remaining gods retreated to their private realms. Bahamut returned to Mount Celestia, which would eventually become the Seven Heavens. Tiamat returned to her lair, on a plane which would become the Nine Hells. Many of the followers of Bahamut felt shame for what they had done to Io’s multiverse, and eventually Annam decided to do something about it.
It was Annam the All-Father who first brought together the rubble to recreate the First World. Others among the first gods were said to help him, but something became evident very quickly. Only with the combined powers of all the Children of Io, not just Bahamut and Tiamat, but all who remained in the multiverse, only with all that power pooled together could the First World ever be reborn, just as they knew it was only through their powers combined that they were able to destroy the First World.
Annam knew this would never come to pass, so instead, he took the rubble of the First World, along with the elemental planes, and created all the worlds which now populate the multiverse, from Krynn to Oerth, from Eberron to Toril. Annam then reached out to his giant kin within the Feywild, and the first gods there who wisely stayed out of the conflict, and connected all the worlds together to the Feywild, so that their worlds would have life in all its forms. The refugees, sentient or divine, then left the Feywild and the other planes on which they sheltered, to become the first races and gods of their respective worlds.
“But what about all the different kinds of giants? What about The Ordning? What about firbolgs?”
Peren could see his son fighting the tiredness in his eyes. He knew this desire to know more would lead to a lot of late nights reading longer than he should, despite his mother’s half-hearted admonitions.
“Every being adapts to its environment in different ways. The giants who survived the destruction of the First World fled to various planes to survive. Those who would become storm giants had fled to a nexus between the Elemental Planes of Water and Air, which had been developed to understand the storms surrounding Io’s egg. Fire giants had fled to the Elemental Plane of Fire. But firbolgs were the giants who had fled to the Feywild, and chose to stay, where we absorbed the magic and became the giant kin we are today.”
“Are we true giants, then? We’re outside the Ordning.”
“As true a giant as any of us are.” Peren sighed. He despised the Ordning, as did most firbolgs who existed outside it. Firbolgs were not seen by many of their giant kin as true giants, and firbolgs did just fine without the ridiculous idea of ranking giants into castes. “We’re admittedly distant cousins, but our gods still watch over us, particular Diancastra and Hiatea. In fact, Hiatea actually lived among the firbolg in the early years of the New Worlds, and hid something so powerful that her brother, Karontor, would incite the Fomorians to try and retrieve it from the Feywild, but that’s a story for another time.”
“How long ago did this happen?”
Peren admired his precocious child further. “It’s hard to say. The records for Toril, this planet we’re on right now, state that the first giant civilization existed 30,000 years ago, and fell in a great war with the dragons, which lasted a thousand years. Our forest and grove sit upon one of the cities from that ancient civilization, although not much is left. We’re here gathering as much information as we can before nature finally takes it all back.”
“Vader…is it true?”
Peren sighed. Is it true? He was beginning to hate teaching his son to think critically, even at the age of five. “We can’t know. All we can do is interpret the stories handed down over time from that distant past. And we have to keep in mind that we only have the same gods to trust for those stories of the First World. But I’ll let you in on a little secret, my son…
“I think that rather than the Great Dragon God Io bringing forth the multiverse, that the multiverse brought forth the Great Dragon God Io and all the life that we see today, after a very, very long time. Maybe even over millions or even billions of years. And that the first creatures, whomever they might have been, discovered the powers of the multiverse themselves, and rather than believe they came from the chaos of what existed before, invented these stories to cover up the fact that they are rarely the makers of their own destiny.
“You see, the true moral of the story, from the firbolg perspective, is that the power to create and destroy is a power that we can either all wield together or destroy each other wielding separately. And that our power is greatest when we work together, whether that’s to create or destroy. Bahamut and Tiamat are the balance between strict order and turbulent chaos, and that our goal as firbolg is to transform this constantly shifting balance into a peaceful equilibrium, one which doesn’t describe peace as the absence of war.
“And that’s why…”
“He’s asleep, my love,” whispered a new voice from the door. Peren looked up at a female firbolg, dressed in a combination leather and steel armor set. She had quietly leaned her spear against the nearby wall, and was quietly taking off the heavier armor pieces, a skill she had perfected after having their son. She was quite muscular, after nearly a century of serving as a Steward of the Eternal Throne, a giant kin organization devoted to serving Annam and reviving peace and fellowship among all people. Among the outside world, she was known as Mialee.
Peren looked down at his sleeping child, once again bored into submission.
“So he is. How was patrol?” asked Peren.
“Pretty good. Another raiding party attempted to investigate some ruins to the north, even though they’ve been cleared out for decades. All they’re going to find are some giant rats and spiders, depending on how far they delve.”
“Chasing their own stories, like we are here.”
“Perhaps. It’ll be an adventure for their own stories.”
Peren locked eyes with Mialee. “Do you think any of the stories are true?”
Mialee considers the question, taking off the remainder of her leather armor and stretching out her shoulders and pectorals. Soft snores emit from their son in Peren’s hands. “I think the stories we are making with each other and with our son are true. And I think those are the only stories that matter, more than any of the stories we are told. Especially when those stories are used to justify any harm or danger to our family and our people.”
“That doesn’t answer my question,” replied Peren.
“Nor should it. It’s like you said, we can’t say. Even if it has great impacts on our lives. Even if it drives the very motivations of the gods and primordials. Even if it means the destruction of entire worlds is due to unknown grudges between ancient beings. I can’t protect us from those stories. I can only protect you from material threats… and a few elemental threats as well. Allow me.”
Mialee took her son from Peren’s arms. Peren watched them head into their son’s sleeping area, then turned back to finish gathering his notes.
