The Gods Must Be Crazy

Prologue

The realm of man is constantly under seige. First, the land of Tyria was assailed by an evil Lich Lord, who's intent was to re-open the fabled Door of Komalie, and release hordes of elemental creatures, called Titans, across the world, burning everything down. Then, in the distant land of Cantha, an evil spirit set loose a plague upon the lands, ravaging them, killing or deforming all who contracted it. Then, as the sun began to set on Elona, an ancient god, banished from the Realm of Divinity, planed to bring an eternal darkness over the land.

With each incarnation of evil, heroes stood from the crowed to claim their place amongst the heroes of old, and drive the evil from their realm. With each new set of heroes, they took and held their place of eternity within the Hall of Heroes, forever remembered. Soon, with evil abiding the light for the time, Tyria, Cantha and Elona were at peace, and trade relations restored. The lands were once more under the careful eye of the Five Gods.

Dwayna. Goddess of Light and Air. She remains vigilent over all who would praise her name, guiding those who would follow the path of the Monk to greatness. Her winged figure gazes over ravaged lands, and blesses those who earn it.

Balthazaar. God of War and Fire. He makes his home in the hearts and minds of soldiers on the battlefield, giving the ones who recognize him divine strength to smite their foes. He is the sole beacon to those who would find their place in the Hall of Heroes through combat.

Lyssa. Goddess of Beauty and Arts. Her many faces show the path of her patron profession, the Mind-Altering Mesmer. Forever entwined in an elegant dance of beauty and fear, Lyssa watches over all things beautiful, and preserves them.

Melandru. Goddess of Earth. Rising from the Earth, the arboreal Melandru rises up to strike at all who would harm the forest, and the land. Her water and healing is a respite for weary travelers who would offer a prayer at Her shrine

And Grenth. God of the Dead, and Ice. His icy grip reaches up from the Realm of the Mists, and claims all spirits as his own. For those who would wish strength from Grenth, must offer a sacrifice of their blood in his name.

"Hey, Dwayna! Who the hell wrote this shit?!"

"Balthazaar did. Why?"

"Because it's wrong, Dwayna! Dead frucking wrong!"

"It's not completely wrong, Grenth."

"Yes! Yes it is! Lyssa isn't the Goddess of Beauty OR the arts! Now, Goddess of PMS and Bi-Polar Syndrome, now THAT I'll believe!"

"Oh, now you're just being bitter."

"I'm not being bitter, I'm being literal! Balthazaar isn't the god of war! Try God-of-sit-on-his-ass-and-watch-the-Hall-of-Heroes-all-fucking-day!"

"Hey! At least I take an interest in the Hall of Heroes, Bone Boy!"

"Don't you dare call me Bone Boy, Lazy Ass!"

"Boys, boys, boys. Stop your bickering. I think it's a nice introduction."

"Well, I'm not doubting that, Mel, but, it's wrong, and completely unrelated to the subject at hand! We're not talking about Tyria here! We're talking about us! Ya know, the Gods!"

"Well, we have to set the backdrop. It's plot development."

"Well it's stupid!"

"Somebody please shut Grenth up! I can't here my Soaps!"

"You and your freakin' Soaps, Lyssa! You're gonna Soap yourself to death one of these days!"

"I actually have to agree with Lyssa, Grenth. Shut the hell up!"

"Hey! You can't tell me what to do! I'm the God of the Freakin' Dead, here! I own you!"

"More like God of Much Bitching."

"OI! Get your ass off that chair and say that to my face, Plate Mail Boy!"

"Meh. Not worth the effort."

"That's what I thought."

"Why are we arguing again?"

"Because. Grenth wants to, Melandru. What more of an excuse do you need?"

"How about a reason."

"It's Grenth."

"Reason accepted."

"You all are against me..."

"You guessed it."

"THAT'S IT! I need to blow something up. Where's my computer?"

"Oh, don't do that. You know how those humans work. You start blowing people up, and they're gonna start a ritual in your name, and you know how I feel when the sink floods with blood."

"Ah, you're just a pussy, Dwayna."

"No, I'm not! I just don't like blood!"

"Exactly. A pussy."

"Oh, come now, Dwayna. Don't let him get to you."

"That's right, Melandru. Hide her from the truth. In your room."

"Oh, shut up, Grenth."

"Right, in case you all haven't caught on yet, the people of Tyria and such would paint such a serious portrait of us. That's solely not the case. We get along pretty well. Few things you should know, though. Balthazaar, all he ever does is bet on the Hall of Heroes all day. Occasionally he wins."

"This is a winner! I can feel it in my bones!"

"Dwayna... well, she's one of the more weirder. Her and Melandru are... ya know... an item. She'd deny it, but I know the truth. Lyssa's a ticking time bomb of emotions, prone to exploding at any given time, for not reason at all."

"What did you say?!"

"See? Anyways, Melandru has this plant fetish thing going, I dunno."

"It's not a fetish! It's a love!"

"Fetish, love, same thing. Anywho. All and all, I'm about as normal as they come."

"Normal? You, normal, Grenth? Is that what they call randomly blowing things up on Tyria, now adays? Normal?"

"Okay, okay, so I like blowing things up a little too much. It's usually just Charr, or Imps... the occasional Gargoyle. I do love killing those Elonian Rain Beetles, though. They make the funniest sounds... Anyways, that's all you really need to know about us right now."

"Grenth! Abbadon's spray painting the side of the house again!"

"God dammit! Come 'ere, you little prick!"

"Not cool, dude, not cool!"

"Abbadon again... I'll get into him again later. Until then, go away and leave me to my blowing up!"