The upper world was nothing like the lower realms.
Hidden beyond mortal sight, the heavens were a series of infinite planes that were made to the tastes of the deity that dwelt there. Some were made of nothing but forests, some were majestic mountain ranges, others resembled the cities of the mortals. One even appeared to be little more than a cluster of glowing clouds filled with winged humans. Most of the gods never bothered to visit that place. After a number of gods made their way to the lower world, Jehovah's following had dwindled greatly.
Calling yourself 'the one true god' and making worship of other deities a crime would have worked… If the other gods hadn't descended all those years ago, proving that the up and coming faith was full of themselves. It had happened plenty of times throughout history, and would doubtlessly happen many more. It would have been less of an embarrassment if Zeus hadn't laughed himself into a stupor over the whole thing.
However, this story of a changed tale does not begin in the domains of the widespread or popular gods. Rather it starts in the writing covered webs of a spider.
The following of Anansi had never been as big or grandiose as the other divine beings. The storytelling spider was content with the gathering and sharing of stories. Miracles such as granting fire to man, or turning the bones of dragons into islands to live on were the blessings granted by the other gods. Anansi was a trickster, a being of cunning and clever wit. Epic battles were not something he partook in. His craving was for the epic itself.
As a collector of stories, his divinity granted him knowledge of a story the moment it was created. He basked in them, enthralled with tales of mortals overcoming challenges, or falling to despair as they were buried by waves of challenges. Anansi delighted in the romance of a wandering wonderlust, or even the bittersweet sorrow of a lost love. Tales of combat made his heart race and horror could still the tremors of his many limbs. It was a safe assumption that the deities' craving for stories was an all consuming thing.
Yet there was one thing he wanted more.
What Anansi desire above all else was to create a story.
The power of a god is bound by their portfolio. The domains over which they rule. More powerful domains had to be shared, for even in the hands of a god things such as Love or Death were concepts too hard for one deity to contain or control. Gods were made or destroyed by the powers of their portfolios. Easier to maintain portfolios could be handled by a single lesser god, provided that they lacked any other domains to watch over.
Anansi's domain was over stories and storytelling. Every tale ever told, every rumor, bit of lore, or epic saga scribbled was under his rule to safeguard for eternity. However, this did not grant him the power to create a story. The powers of creation were some of the strongest in the upper world, and vigorously guarded by those that possessed them. After all, in the right hands the powers to create had endless possibilities, who would risk such abundant wealth?
After gaining his portfolio and his divinity Anansi spent millennium consuming and enjoying the pleasures of his collection. All topics, genres, and flavors of tale were consumed almost faster than they could become created. However, there came times when the lower world could not provide enough to sustain the spider's appetite for entertainment. Each time there was a lull in the number of stories crafted Anansi's desire for a story of his own grew. It started as a small ember, burning in his soul. A desire for something that could not be quenched by distraction or time. One that would have to go unsatisfied unless a change happened.
Then the Gods descended.
It was a miraculous thing for the mortals, proof of their gods' presence was before them and lived among them. For Anansi it was a literal godsend. In one moment in time a thousand and more stories changed. It took years for the excited storyteller to search his web covered library in search of what had been changed. Stories that he had consumed long ago were reborn with new flavor and could sate him once again.
The idea of what had become written being remade was a revelation for the trickster god. Not quite like creation, the power was more limited and much less potent. But what it could create was so much bigger. Possibilities.
Anansi was known as a trickster deity, and unlike the popular Loki, he had never seen fit to display his wit to either world after winning his portfolio with tricks. As a number of gods made a home for themselves among their mortal children, Anansi watched and plotted. The mortals in the lower world had flocked to the site of the god's emergence, creating a city called Orario. The gods created famila, and together they attempted to explore, pillage, and purge the dungeon that was below them all.
The number of stories that emerged from that one city alone was mind-boggling.