The Story of Creation

In The Beginning

   In the beginning there was nothing. Not even vacuum, no
space, no time, nothing.
   Then in a timeless flash came The Primal Stuff from where 
there was nothing before.
   The Primal stuff swirled and pulsated for a long, long time
experimenting with Itself and trying different forms of existence.

Eventually It formed Itself into the Primal 
Assexual God REAL.
   REAL existed and IT knew IT existed.
   "I THINK THEREFORE I AM!" exclaimed REAL and ITS body glowed
to prove it.                           
   Another piece of Primal Stuff broke off and formed itself into
IMAG. IMAG existed and IT knew that IT existed.
   "I THINK THEREFORE I AM" exclaimed IMAG and ITS body darkened
to prove it, absorbing all of REAL's light.
   "I'M AFRAID YOU CAN'T DO THAT," hissed REAL, and fell upon
IMAG with such ferocity and determination that large pieces of
both THEIR immaculate bodies were brutally torn off.
   This was the last thing either GOD ever said. The two Primal
GODS are still fighting to this day, but since neither GOD is more
powerful than the other, neither is winning, and shall never win,
for all eternity.
   

DAY AND NIGHT

This is not to say that neither GOD has partial victories. During the struggles whenever REAL gets on top, ITS body shines out for all to see and it is Day. Conversely, whenever IMAG gets on top, ITS body "shades" REAL's and it is Night.

CREATION OF THE WORLD

The first piece of primal matter that broke off REAL's body coalesced with the first piece off IMAG's body and formed itself into the surface of the World. But the World was a desolate place. No living thing grew upon its surface nor wriggled beneath.

CREATION OF THE PRIMARY IMMORTALS

The second piece that broke off REAL's immaculate body formed into the three Immortals of Light - Cabernet Sauvignon the Goddess of Love, Olive the Goddess of Peace and Forceps the Goddess of Birth. The second piece that broke off IMAG's immaculate body formed into the three Immortals of Darkness - Malechai the God of Hatred, Nuke the God of War and Leprous By-blow the God of Desolation. The third piece to break off REAL's immaculate body coalesced with the third piece off IMAG's immaculate body. This formed into the God of Time, Methuselah the Uncaring. The Immortals of Light looked upon Their own beautiful bodies with pride. The Immortals of Darkness looked upon Their own hideous bodies with disgust. Methuselah looked upon His long grey beard, His blunt scythe, and His shiney hour-glass with a wry smile. The Immortals of Light looked upon the hideous bodies of The Immortals of Darkness with amusement. The Immortals of Darkness looked upon the gorgeous bodies of The Immortals of Light with jealousy. "How dare they have better bodies than us," They fumed. "Yes, we shall have to do something about this," They plotted. So They snuck up to the Immortals of Light who where so busy admiring Their own stunning forms that They never saw the Immortals of Darkness coming. Malechai smote Cabernet with a mighty roundhouse punch knocking Her senseless. He then tore Her body into little pieces and diced the pieces into neat die-sized cubes such was His rage. Nuke kicked Olive in Her soft palate with His steel-shod marching boots. Then He smashed Her bones and splintered them into tiny pieces each the size of a match. Leprous grabbed Forceps from behind, dragged Her away on the barren earth and foully ravished Her. Such was the fecundity of Forceps' body and such was the ferocity of the attack, that Leprous' mighty organ became burned and scorched, and He was rendered forever sterile.

CREATION OF LIFE

The seeds of this union (blood, semen, sweat, tears and holy lymphatic fluid) spread out from the site of the rape and formed life where ever they touched the earth. Trees and plants grew from where there was nothing, sand turned into insects, small stones turned into amphibians and rocks turned into animals. Malechai, Nuke and Leprous, tired of their sport, Their anger vented for the meantime, strolled away in a sulk - Leprous nursing His charred member and cursing the four winds (which had not yet begun to blow because they had not yet been created).

CREATION OF HUMANITY

The blood from Cabernet's broken body and marrow from Olive's splintered bones mixed together with the remnants of Forceps' rape. This liquid concoction soaked into the earth, and after a while a strange flesh-coloured plant began to grow. It grew rapidly and formed two mighty pods. The pods opened and out stepped the first humans - a man and a woman. Forceps saw them through Her tears and She knew that they were beautiful. "Look what we've done," She boasted to the now rapidly reforming Cabernet and Olive. "Better hide them from the other Three," mouthed Olive through Her broken jaw. So They did, and nurtured them well. Much time passed, and the humans began populating the Known World. At these times there were no elves or dwarfs or goblins or kobolds or ogres. There was no disease or suffering and the World was a nice carefree happy place.

CREATION OF LUST

In the fullness of time, Forceps (pregnant by Leprous) gave birth to a girl. But this was no ordinary girl. Forceps stepped back and had a quizzical look at Her newly born daughter. She appeared as a rather sensual young lady. She was absolutely stunning - even the afterbirth looked good on her. Unlike the other Gods who at this time were naked as the day they were created, Forcep's daughter was attired in a garments of fetish: a tight black basque, several sizes too small. It squashed in her small waist and thrust out her large, exposed, heavily-nippled breasts. Fish-net stockings and suspenders graced her long perfect legs, which terminated in knee-length, black leather boots and 8 inch heels. Her long waist-length, jet-black hair hung loose and it framed her gorgeous, if over made-up, face. This only helped to emphasizing her high cheek bones and gash of a mouth. Her emerald green eyes, heavily mascara-ed, sparkled behind a black, kid-leather, Lone Ranger mask. Clipped to the basque at her waist was a long black riding crop on her right side. A swede cat-o-nine tails hung ignominiously on her left hip obviously attached with Velco. Her long perfect arms were clad in black vinyl gloves which stretched from her elbows to the base of her fingers, leaving the fingers with their long enamelled nails uncovered. "Um ..." said Forceps somewhat taken aback, "I think I'll name you ... " "I am going to call Myself Soixante-neuf," stated the girl quite brusquely, licking her full pouting lips salaciously with a long, sinuous, 40cm, lizard-like tongue. "And that's Sixty-nine to you." With that, Soixante-neuf strolled away to one of the human settlements in search of something to poke. "I guess She can be the Goddess of Lust," smiled Forceps sadly to Herself.

CREATION OF SUFFERING AND SUCCOUR (AND FATE)

One day Cabernet was sunning herself on a rock. Her astral- self was elsewhere (actually spying on the copulating humans) so that She didn't sense the approach of Malechai in His boar-like form. And by the time She realized what was happening, He had managed to mount and impregnate Her. In the fullness of time Cabernet gave birth to twins. However, these where no ordinary twins. They were joined together at the waist. Since these were the days when language was in its infancy, and, more importantly, the country of Thailand does not exist in the Known World, She couldn't call them "Siamese twins" even though that is what they were. "Look at my Tourniquet twins," She exclaimed proudly to Forceps. "I thought a tourniquet was the thing you twist to stop blood flow?" said Forceps. "No, that's called a Migraine, isn't it?" Forceps looked puzzled. "Lets ask Olive," said Forceps. "Olive! What's a Migraine?" Olive thought for a bit. "Oh, that's the generic name for the nasty sores you get when you don't turn over at night while sleeping." "What, bed sores?" "No. Bed saws are the things the humans use to cut up wood for their beds." "I see. Well what's a tourniquet then?" "That's what you get when you sun yourself on rocks all day." Cabernet looked at the twins. "I think I'll name you Canker and Panadine." Just as Panadine was gorgeous and beautiful, Canker was hideous and malformed. Huge running sores bled pus all over Canker's sickly body, and everytime he breathed, up came a large foul smelling cloud of putrescence. "I need a smoke," he rasped scratching the stubble on his chin, and the First cigarette appeared, welded to his hand. He took a long drag and burst into glorious fits of coughing and wheezing while green phlegm clanged around in his lungs and erupted in a miasma of septic saliva. Over the ensuing days, Panadine did Her best to comfort and succour Canker (well, she was attached to him in more ways than one), but he would have none of it. One night, when Panadine was asleep, Canker grabbed a stick and a large length of bailing twine. "I'll make one of those Migraine thingies," he thought and wrapped the twine around the join between their bodies. Inserting the stick, he twisted and twisted until the rope started digging in. Blood ran freely. Panadine awoke with a start. "Oh Real, I'm having a Migraine," she moaned. But Canker kept twisting and twisting and the rope dug in even deeper. Suddenly with a splodge of flesh and a shower of blood, the two halves separated. "Free at last," mused Canker. And he loped away into the darkness. Panadine had a long look at the gaping wound in Her side. There was something wriggling in it so she reached in and pulled it out. It was a minature bright blue crayfish with azure twinkling eyes. "Hello, I'm Kliban," it spoke merrily. "You look more like a crustacean, to me," replied Panadine Kliban twinkled his eyes. "Anyway, where did you come from?" asked Panadine. "What do you think Canker was doing the other night?" "He called that fondling." "Fondling, eh?" Kliban mused, and then as an afterthought: "I thought a fondle was a meal where you dip pieces of bread into molten cheese with funny forks."

SUFFERING LET LOOSE ON THE WORLD

Canker, by this time, had reached the first of the burgeoning human settlements. "Let's see how wimpy these dumb humans are," he thought. He wriggled in through a door and began to exhale noxious vapours though various orifices in his malformed body. The foul smelling gases wofted through the house and into the occupants' bedrooms. They breathed them in, coughed weakly, and died. Canker then went outside into the kennels and bit a dog that the humans had only recently domesticated. "I'll call you ... um ... Rabies," he mused as the poor dog began to froth at the mouth. "This is fun," he thought. He skulked up to another abode and reached in through the window of a bedroom. He touched the arm of the occupant sound asleep in bed. Instantly a large boil began swelling. It turned into a stench-ridden bubous which burst in a lovely golden shower of pus. More boils erupted unbidden. The poor wretch began groaning and sweating. "I'll call this ... something impressive ... The ... The Plaque!" he exclaimed and wriggled off to cause more mayhem. Several days later, Canker had invented quite a few diseases and afflictions to plague mankind : Cholera, Typhoid, Typhus, Tuberculosis, Meningitus, Tetanus, Measles, Scurvy, Rickets, Beri- beri, Bilhazia, Pneumonia, Polio, Diptheria, Whooping cough, Rubella, Hydatids, Mumps and Malaria to name but a few. (Incidentally, none of these names are the original names given by Canker. He got bored with the naming and just called the diseases things like "Spotty disease" or "Nasty disease" or "The one with the nasty cough" etc. It was not until much later were they chrisened officially.) Canker was very proud of Malaria (he called it "The one with broccoli"). He wanted a lowly insect to do the actual spreading of the disease. First attempts met with dismal failures. This was probably because aphids were a rather bad choice of carrier. Next he tried nemetoads and flatworms - also with no result. Finally he ended up actually designing and creating a suitable insect, the mosquito, to do the spreading. But he named it "broccoli". The word "mosquito" didn't appear until much later when people began confusing the vegetable with the insect. As an off-shoot of disease creation, it was Canker who invented some of the more nasty vegetables still plaguing the suffering World even today: broad beans, swede, kohlrabi, turnips, brussel-sprouts, lentils, spinach, silver-beet, courgettes, marrows, aubergines, radishes, ugali, cauliflower, celery, leeks, and of course, broccoli. (In fact broad beans are so horrible that in many kingdoms just being in possession of broad beans is an offence punishable by death. And some particularly evil nations resort to using broad beans as a psychological weapon by lobbing great sacks of the horrible things over the walls into a besieged town.) Seeing all Canker's achievements, some particularly evil, masochistic and probably slightly mad people, as well as a group of hard-core vegetarians, began to worship him and thus Canker was raised to Godhood to become Canker the God of Suffering (and Nasty Vegetables). (Being raised to Godhood means you gain the following privileges: A guaranteed place in Godland, above the sky. Immortality forever. A flock of guaranteed devout worshippers. And, most importantly, capital letters on all Your pronouns.)

SUCCOUR FOR THE WORLD

And what was Panadine doing all this time? Well, when she heard of all the suffering Her twin brother was bestowing on the innocent humans, she was moved to tears. She crept down into the afflicted human settlements and began curing and healing and generally giving succour to the unfortunate diseased wretches. She also taught the humans the ways of healing and succour. But the greatest of Panadine's gifts was the priceless gift of her tears. Where ever any tear touched the ground, an eternal spring would begin to flow. When the cool, crystal-clear liquid from this spring is sipped, it will cure any disease and heal any damage. Many humans in their gratitude began to worship Her and thus She was raised to Godhood to become Panadine the Goddess of Succour (and tears).

FATE FOR THE WORLD

And Kliban? Well, Kliban actually developed a following too. He was asked by a handful of people who had been on the radishes too long, what did he wish to be worshipped for. Puzzled why anyone would want to worship a crustacean, let alone a blue one, he replied: "Oh, anything will do... How about bait. Yes, that seems most appropriate - a crayfish being the God of Bait." Unfortunately, being a crayfish (and a pretty blue one at that) he could not pronounce his "B"s very well, and the people heard "Fait" instead of "Bait". "Praise be to Kliban, the Great God of Fate!" they chimed in unison. Kilban shrugged his multiple shoulders. "C'est la vie," He quipped and He revelled in His glory. "C'est la vie, c'est la vie, c'est la vie!" repeated the people. So the humans had begun to suffer, but also, more importantly had begun to appreciate the nicer things of life. As Kilban would put it : "You can't appreciate Good without Evil." Whether He actually said these words or not, theologins, philosophers and cheese mechanics cannot agree.

CREATION OF ORCS

Meanwhile, tiring of begatting and swyving with humans, Soixante-neuf decided against Her better judgement and insistent warnings from the other Gods, to creep into the Nasty God's camp. Rummaging through Their dirty laundry looking for soiled undergarments to sniff, She was discovered by Malechai. "Well well well," He leered, "what have We here?" Seeing Her He began to get a stirring in His loins (She has that effect on people (and gods), you know). Noting this smugly, She sauntered over to Him, not at all afraid of the God of Hatred, and pouted at Him lasciviously. Then slowly began to run Her long tongue over Her eyebrows. Unable to control Himself, He grabbed Her head and forced Her down. "I hope you are hungry," He rasped hoarsely. Nuke hearing the commotion, arrived at the scene. Seeing Soixante-neuf's shapely rump beckoning proudly, He was also unable to control Himself. "Excuse me while I whip this out," He murmured unbuckling His holster, and then joined in the game. A good hour later, Leprous strolled over and saw the three at it like knives. Being sterile and not able to partake in such sport, His jealously roared up inside Him like a dormant volcano erupting. Frothing horribly at the mouth, He grabbed Malechai and ripped Him in half. He stomped on Nuke's head forcing it seven leagues into the earth. And He grabbed the prone form of Soixante- neuf and hurled Her halfway across the Known World. Then He stomped away in a fit of pique. The magical concoction of Malechai's blood, Nuke's semen, Soixante-neuf's fluids and Leprous' saliva soaked into the earth. After a while a strange black leathery plant began to grow. It grew rapidly and formed two mighty pods. The pods opened and out stepped the first orcs - male and female. They immediately grabbed each other and began mating.

CREATION OF WEATHER, KNOWLEDGE AND IGNORANCE...

In the fullness of time, Soixante-neuf gave birth to triplets. Two were born in the normal way, the third had spawned in Her stomach (giving head to a God is not without its consequences). It arrived in the world with a mighty burp. She had produced three darling baby boys. Well, fully grown boys actually - gods do seem to grow rather fast. Their eyes glowed with anticipation when they saw where they had to feed. "But there are three of us and She only has a pair," the one born of the stomach moaned. "Well, Burpy, since you're the odd one out, you can go without," quipped the gaunt one. "Hey! That rhymes." "Yair" swarthered the spikey one, a breach birth himself. So Spikey and Gaunt latched onto Soixante-neuf's magnificent breasts and began gulping down the creamy nectar like there was no tomorrow. Burpy was about to leave in a sulk when Soixante-neuf, Her eyes almost closed with pleasure, gestured to him. "I know where you can have a suck..."

...AND LUCK AND TRICKERY

In the fullness of time, Soixante-neuf gave birth again. This time it was only twins. Paternal twins. One was a chicken and one was a girl. After a huge feed leaving Soixante-neuf breathless and drained, She stepped back to have a look at Her family. Spikey was sitting off to one side, nursing his enormous milk beer-pot, and staring out into space. Gaunt was talking to the only girl child. She was looking very bored, but Gaunt didn't seem to notice. The one which looked like a chook was being chased around by Burpy. "Time for you lot to have names," She said. "Any suggestions?" "Oh yes please!" piped up Gaunt, never short of a word. "Don't tease. Pray please, a name to seize." "Shut up you fuckin' wanker," swore the girl under her breath. "What was that?" asked Soixante-neuf. "Umm.. I said ... Funken Wagnell. Yeah, that's right." "Ok, Gaunt," decided the Goddess of Lust. "You are hereby named Funken Wag..." "Wagnell." "Funken Wagnell." "Funken Wagnell?" exclaimed Gaunt. "What's that?" "It means ..." said Soixante-neuf thinking quickly. "Bright boy and clever rhymer." "Goody goody gum drops, I don't have to growl, I've got a name now It's Funken Wagnell" "Can't you think up any better poetry than that inane crap." "Um ... okay ..." thought Funken. "How about this: Oh! She doth teach the torches to burn bright. It seems she hangs against the cheek of night, Like a rich jewel in Malechai's ear. Beauty, too rich for use. For earth, too dear. or: The moving finger writes and having writ moves on. Nor all thy piety, nor wit, Shalt lure it back to cancel half a line. Nor all thy urine wash out a word of it. or: But soft! What light through yonder window breaks. It is the Battle, and Soixante-neuf is REAL. Arise fair REAL and slay the envious IMAG who is already sick and pale with grief." Soixante-neuf was moved to tears. "But that's wonderful Funken," She whispered. "You can be the God of Poetry." "And Knowledge," added Funken. "'Cos I know a lot too." "Okay. Now who's for the next name?" "Me!" shouted the girl. "I want to be a number like you, Mum." "Any number in particular?" "Yep, twenty one." "We can do better than that," smiled the Goddess of Lust. "Vingt-et-un. Which means you'll be the Goddess of Luck. Now for you, Burpy..." Just at that moment the chicken, sick of being chased around the clearing, took an enormous peck at Burpy. Burpy screamed in a mighty ear-shattering howl as his testacles were ripped clean away. If chickens could laugh, then this one was having hysterics. The two testes in their neat little skin container were dangling from his beak forming a nice little wattle. He immediately took to the air as Burpy came rushing towards him, and hovered just out of reach taunting in a poultry kind of way. Burpy stood underneath, arms outstretched and mouth open. With a well-aimed flick of his beak, the chicken dropped the prize. And it landed, right down Burpy's throat. His involuntary muscles got to work and the little package was swallowed. "Aaaaargh! Mum!" howled Burpy. Soixante-neuf, who had watched the whole thing, spoke: "You'll just have to burp it up, won't you then." And Burpy set to burping his little stomach out. "Burpy isn't such a good name for a God. I think I'll name you..." with a flash of inspiration, "... Gelding. And since you're making all that wind, you can be the God of Weather." And to this day, whenever the wind blows, it is really Gelding, still trying to bring up His testes. "As for you, Mister Chicken, you can be the God of Trickery for your hand in this." "I would prefer 'Quail' if you don't mind," Mr. Chicken clucked. "Okay then. Mister Quail." Soixante-neuf had a look around and Her eyes rested on Spikey. "What do you want to be?" She asked. "Duh." "How about Norman. Spikey Norman. The God of Ignorance." "Duh, okay." "All this naming has got me hot and bothered. Come on boys and girls, I need a good long hard seeing-to." "Not me," said Funken Wagnell. "I've got some rhymes to see." "Duh" sniped Norman. Mister Quail just sat there clucking like a broody hen. "Don't look at me," whined Gelding in a high pitched counter- tenor, nursing His groin and burping. "Toss you for it," gleefully said Vingt-et-un throwing a coin into the air. "Tails," snapped Soixante-neuf. "Heads. Damn shame. Sorry mum."

NATURE AND GROWTH

One warm day Gelding was strolling through the meadows of Godland minding His own business, burping occasionally and expectorating rudely. He saw a black rock which had not been there the day before. "Hmmm," He thought tenuously to himself. "That wasn't there yesterday." So He wandered over to it and sat on it. Suddenly, the rock transformed into the hideous form of Nuke. The spot where Gelding's bottom was sat was now a writing mass of black tentacles. Gelding shrieked in a high pitched howl and tried to get up, but the tentacles held him firm. Nuke laughed in His stoney voice and completely enveloped poor Gelding. Then He had His wicked way with Gelding. In the fullness of time (to use the cliche for the third time) Gelding gave birth. As usual for Gods, who never do things by half, He gave birth to twins. One child had the head of a stag, and the other had rubbery limbs and lips. "So I'm not infertile afterall," He thought happily to himself. Imitating His mother, He said: "Time for you two to be named. You with the antlers, you look like a moose." "Caribou, actually," he replied. "Okay. Moose here, caribou gone. You're called Caribou Gorn. Now what do you want to be god of." "God of the grass, god of the trees, god of the honey, god of the bees, god of the oceans and god of the seas. I'll be the god of nature, if you please." "Yeah, Caribou. We'll leave the poetry to Funken, okay?" said Gelding, and turning to the other child: "And what do you wish to be called?" Wiggly was sitting next to a small bush and staring at it. The bush was swaying and growing in size alarmingly. "SUPER" Wiggly bellowed. "How did you do that?" "Don't know, it is just something I can do." "In that case, I reckon you can be called Super Fosfait. Super Fosfait, the God of Growth."

MANKIND GAINS FIRE

In the beginning there was no fire. Whenever night fell, people had to cower away in their homes in the dark. Venturing out into the night was suicidal due to the vast number of IMAG supporters who allegedly roamed the world. There was a human called Hob who was tired of this. "What we need is a small piece of Star-stuff," he said to his lovely wife, Aqua-marina one night. "A piece all of our very own to light up the dark, when REAL is losing. I think I'll go and find some." After a hearty meal of broad beans and turnips, he grabbed the family sieve and left the house travelling Funken-wards. After many days he reached the foot of the mighty mountain Mt. Tourniquet. He had heard stories that the tip of Mount Tourniquet actually pierced into the Thick Air. So he began the long arduous climb. Several months later he reached the summit, and sure enough, the air was thick enough here to support his weight. He ventured bravely out onto the Air and began to ooze his way towards the nearest star slipping and sliding through the vaseline-like air. As he got closer the heat was unbearable, but Hob was brave (if somewhat foolhardy) and he just gritted his delicious teeth. Finally, he got close enough to the star and managed to scoop a lump of it into the sieve. Blackened and charred Hob crawled back through the air and arrived back on the mountain top. Much time later Hob arrived back home carrying the sieve over his shoulder with the glowing star-stuff within. When this black charred thing came through the front door, lovely Aqua-marina let forth a howl of terror and fainted dead away. Seeing lovely Aqua-marina in such a compromising position, and not having tasted the pleasures of the flesh for a good six months now, Hob began to get a stirring in his loins and in his mouth. He carefully placed the sieve with its precious cargo on the mantle- piece, picked up the lovely Aqua-marina and put her gently on the table. Then he began ravish here with unsatiable passion. While this was going on, the intense heat from the star-stuff began to char the wood of the mantel-piece. It glowed red hot and suddenly burst into flames. Hob, simultaneously reaching his climax, screamed out the first word that came to mind : "Fire!" When lovely Aqua-marina regained consciousness and realised that the charred thing on top of her was Hob, she calmed down a bit and Hob told her the whole story. When asked to explain the disarray of her clothes, the excessive bruising around her lower abdomen, and the smoking ruin that was formerly their home, Hob quickly changed the subject. "See how it glows! We'll have light at night now! No more terrors of the dark!" And they nurtured and tended the fire. Thus the gift of fire was spread throughout the world.

CREATION OF THE SEA

In the beginning, there was no sea. There was just a deep depression in the Known World called the Great Desert. This desert was so dry that all the world's rivers just dried up and stopped when they hit it. Having just received the gift of fire from Hob, humanity was busy experimenting and finding all sorts of uses for it. They used it for cooking formerly raw foods, for heating and warmth, and most importantly for light. Keeping the powers of darkness at bay during the night meant that people no longer had to cower away like frightened children whenever it was dark. However, with this hot substance around, and most buildings of the time being made of wood, paper, tar and hessian, it was very easy to accidently burn down one's home. And this was happening more and more often. Only two months after the gift of fire, a wonderful wooden public monument was burned down. This was the last straw. The people were angry. But instead of blaming to themselves or the fire itself, or even drawing up some Fire Regulations and sensible building codes, they did the normal thing irrational people usually do - look for a scape-goat. The argument went along these grounds: Hob got us fire, therefore it is all Hob's fault. And on one fateful night, a crowd of several thousand irate people stormed up the road carrying torches, rope and rakes towards Hob's and lovely Aqua-marina's house screaming "Hob! Hob! Hob!" at the top of their lungs. Hob saw them coming so he and lovely Aqua-marina scurried up onto the roof of his new house and pulled the ladder up. The ugly crowd formed a circle around the dwelling still screaming "Hob! Hob! Hob! You're going to burn!" Up in Godland at this time, Gelding was wandering around with Mister Quail (They were now friends). Burping away randomly, He happened to look down through the ground. From this great distance, the high concentration of torches held by the circle of people around Hob's home could actually be seen as a pin-prick of light. "I didn't notice any recent Star-fall in that area," murmured Gelding to Mister Quail. "What can it be?" So They both switched Their god eyes into zoom mode and zoomed in on the crowd. "Hmmm. Those humans are each holding their own pieces of star. How...?" "Perhaps they got a bit from a star fall?" mused Mr. Quail. "No, it always goes out." Hob by this time was resigned to the fact that he was going to get roasted alive with his own gift to humanity. "In for a penny, in for a pound," he shrugged and pulled down his trousers. "What's he doing?" clucked Mr. Quail, becoming more interested. Without any fuss, Hob began to urinate of the crowd. When the urine hit some of the torches it hissed and spluttered. A few even went out. Mr. Quail was enjoying this. He liked toilet humour, especially elaborate tricks involving bodily wastes. "Let Us give him a hand, Geldy," chuckled the God of Trickery. So both Mister Quail and Gelding began to empty their vast bladders in Hob's general vicinity. Looking back on that night, Hob could remember the crowd surging forward after he started relieving himself. Their mood was ugly and this act of nonchalence only went to inflame them all the more. He remembered noticing a particulary sun-burnt chap waving a rake when it happened. Without any warning at all, a massive wall of water, an unimaginable deluge of torrential rain, came pouring down from on high. Every single torch went out and they entire crowd was plunged into darkness. Any screams they may have voiced were drowned out totally by the roaring of the water. The deluge kept up all night, and right through the next day and night. It was so intense that REAL's light couldn't even be seen during the day in that vicinity. The morning after, Hob and lovely Aqua-marina were still sitting on their roof looking rather sodden. Their house was now floating in a vast lake. The lake was so big that they couldn't see the edges of it. The only sign of the crowd was a few floating corpses. "What was that?" mouthed the lovely Aqua-marina. Hob shrugged his shoulders and began to row. Four months later, they finally arrived on at the shore. They put this time to good use and had actually built a mast and sail to harness Gelding's burps to push the house along. The remaing people living on the shores of the Great Sea (as it was to be called) had come to their senses and no longer felt antipathy towards Hob (well if they did, they were too scared to show it) and they made him their ruler. Lovely Aqua-marina was given credit for the sea (which turned out to provide a massive new source of food - fish) since Hob was given the credit for fire. People began to worship both Hob and lovely Aqua-marina for their gifts to the world. Eventually, the number of worshippers reached the crucial Divine Ascension Threshhold and Hob and lovely Aqua-marina became the first humans to achieve Divine Ascendancy. Hob was raised to Godhood to become Hob, the God of Fire. Lovely Aqua-marina was likewise raised to become Aqua-marina the Goddess of Water.

THE FIRST HALF-ELF

Nine months after the kitchen-floor ravishing, the lovely Aqua-marina gave birth to her and Hob's first child. However the baby had strange pointy ears, long gangly limbs and eleven toes. "What is it?" wept lovely Aqua-marina. "Look, it's got eleven toes!" quipped Hob becoming hysterical, and began to sing : "Eleven, eleven, eleven, eleven, eleven, eleven, eleven, eleven, eleven, eleven, eleven, eleven, eleven, eleven, eleven, eleven, eleven! Our baby's got eleven toes! Our baby's got eleven toes!" "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" screamed the lovely Aqua-marina. Eventually Hob calmed down. After much time, they accepted the child. They named it Eleven after Hob's outburst. This name was shortened to Elv and then to Elf as a nickname - a name that was to be so important in years to come... Eleven actually turned out to be a half-elf. Lovely Aqua- marina and Hob had ten more children which were all half-elves. These all married humans. Initially, they produced only human children, but there were an unusual number of miscarriages and stillborn babies - all half-elves. Clerics of Panadine and Forceps could not understand the reason for this. All their combined magnificent magics plus a larger than normal dose of Panadine's Tears didn't change a thing. But five years later, one of the children finally had a live half-elf birth. Enquiries were made and it was discovered that this child was conceived nine months before in a region that had just had a Star-fall. With the link established - that is half- elves could only be conceived in the presence of fresh Star-stuff - the others of the family began travelling to fresh Star-fall areas whenever they wanted a half-elf child.

THE FIRST ELF

Five generations later when the number of half-elves in the world had reached reasonable quantities, two half-elves finally got together. Following the Star-stuff link, they moved to an area of fresh Star-fall to consumate their marriage. They had two half- elf children in the next two years. But their third child was different. After a full-year gestation and a difficult labour a son was born. This child's ears were even larger than normal and the chin and cheek bones even more angular, fragile, and beautiful. It also had twelve toes. Unknown to the parents at the time, this was the first elf. Eventually more and more half-elves married and more and more elves were born. Elves turned out to be sterile. Two Elves mating will not produce any children (although it doesn't stop them from trying). Thus the Elvish population is only maintained by the one in four child from half-elf unions. To make up for this, Elves live a long time.

TO BE WRITTEN !

Grandpa Walton - Human Ascendency - was a originally a human like Hob Smack-water Jack - vengence/revenge - originally an elf