The deepest of defilements. Will it be enough?
The air is foul, the heady rush of iron coursing through nostril and lung. Tiamat's dominion seems unstoppable, unceasing; a great wheel grinding grinding down. The Tiamatic Pantheon is a starved apocalypse, tens of thousands of seemingly unstoppable Gods, both lesser and greater. Her forces number countless of the ancien regimes, preparing for the promised end since before the dawn of time. Even should they fail, the death toll will be beyond number. They have considered every angle, every complication, every feeble attempt by the 'mortals' to evade their debts coming due. All save one, says the Calamitous dragon seer with the rotting eyes and choking breath.
Long, long ago, before even the stars had names, there was IO, both Creator and Creation. He wove the cosmos from his own flesh and sinew, crafting the first of the Draconic Gods along the way, and with them the primordials that would come to be His end, much as so grand and terrible a thing could. It is recompense for this act that drives the Tiamatic faith, and so too that might halt them.
His children left Him where He fell, in the place the Triplet Gods were spawned, and soon after Dragonkind; The Cradle. They sealed him under the most potent of wards the nascent deities possessed, mightier even than those binding the Five-Headed Bitch in the Hells. But the world was young, then, and the Gods with it. The seal has not been maintained. Dreams of a dead God leak out, and leaving behind them holes a particularly determined creature might crawl through, and.. to speak the act is to give it credence, and the corroding seer coughs and chokes as it tries, managing at last to speak; that the Weaver IO might rise once more.
IO was greatest of Gods, greater even. His was the might of infinity, and the world was scarred irreparably by His passing. Yet there are fragments still, and much as His children posture, they are indeed children before Grandfather IO, and would be quickly quelled, especially considering their principal motive is His murder.
However, this is no light undertaking. The Cradle can only be found by way of the Obsidian Road, that half-dreamt path of divine hatred, sapping all from those who walk it. Even should we at last reach the Cradle’s gate, to cross the threshold would surely draw the ultimate ire of every God in the myriad cosmos.. unless they were distracted. Lastly, IO’s resurrection has been tried, in the earliest days of the world. It has never worked before. Whatever the method, it must be novel.
This plan is beyond even the vilest of heresy to the Tiamatics, the Bahamutites, and every ‘proper’ dragon, the seer cackles, so much so that to even consider the idea is punishable by death. That very conceit means that, even with their eras of planning, even with their legions of might, their Gods of blood and weave..
The forces of Tiamat will not, could not, could NEVER see this coming. The seer begins to have fits of cackling at the thought. First, they would need suitable protection from the Road..
/uw So going forward, we'll be splitting into distraction and resurrection teams. Feel free to have a character on both!