First, there was thought. Thoughts from the creator, Ardus, who in Ghar'po is called Numeron, poured forth. And, a speck. A tiny one, that grew. A world, a world was born. A world that was untamed, wild, without law, order, or form. Thought flowed. 5 beings were formed, all different, but all the same. The Muses. The first, Pallomo. Created the red earth, and the dark soil, and shaped the mountains, and the canyons. The second, Dequibenzo. Created the sun, moon, sky, and the creatures that dwelt in it. He gave the gift of law to the world. The third, Unibouzou. Created water. The oceans, sea, and all living things in them. The fourth, Karagulas. Created the trees, the grass, and the living things that dwelt on land. But the fifth, Trighatha, did not create. He grew angry, thirsting for power, and jealous of his brethren. He came upon Karagulas, and slaughtered him. His three brethren, however, quickly flew upon him, and Trighatha, fled to the deep places of the earth. Karagulas, was buried under the Mount Isendor, where he might rest under the world he loved. The first three Muses, fearing Trighatha, did not return to the Halls of Numeron, but drew into the world, in case Trighatha may return... And now, that time has come.