Who art thou, to ask that which should not be asked?
Who art thou, to know that which should not be known?
I recognize in thou the folly that drew in a thousand fools before me,
And the folly that shall draw in a thousand more after.
The knowledge of the beginning and end of all things,
The Dark Lord, Dread Tharizdun.
An entity in times long past-Istus, Lady of Fates? Beory, Oerthly Mother?
None can say for sure.
Such an entity gave rise to life, to existence, to good and to evil,
To all the beings we worship today as gods.
But no thing can exist without its opposite-good without evil, light without dark, oerth without air, fire without water.
So too, out of existence and fate, did come entropy and nihilism.
So too, was the Dark Lord conceived,
So too, did his rage, hate and malice know no bounds.
For he was a living paradox, something that should not exist and yet did,
This was the depraved truth, the obscene lie, that defined him.
Thus did the Dark Lord seek to destroy all existence, including himself, to destroy the existence that infuriated him,
And the existence that contradicted his own nature.
Thus did the Dark Lord commit a further paradox,
Giving rise to minions who aided him in his efforts to destroy the original entity and the gods it left in its wake.
Evil divinity joined with Good, eschewing previous conflicts,
Despite their nature, the Evil gods sought still to exist, contrary to the Dark Lord's nihilism.
This further paradox, irony upon irony, infuriated the Dark Lord still more,
Causing him to redouble his efforts, so that life and all of existence would suffer.
For eternity the battle might have raged,
Were it not for the sacrifice of a single solar.
Plunging into the depths of the Dark Lord's maw,
He sacrificed himself so that existence might live.
Sickened was the Dark Lord by yet another paradox,
The sacrifice of life and passage into death so that others might live.
At last was the Dark Lord laid low, and his minions laid down with him.
At last was the Imprisoning War successful,
At last the Age of Night came to an end.
At last was the Dark Lord imprisoned and entrapped.
The Dark Lord's minions were locked 'neath the Black Ice, screaming to be free,
The Dark Lord himself imprisoned somewhere none can say.
Moradin crafted an adamant prison to entrap him,
Nerull promised death to any who drew near to him,
Corellon cast spells of warding on the prison,
Incabulos tormented him with nightmares to keep him asleep,
Pelor ensured no light would reveal his location,
Gruumsh and Annam forced his prison into the furthest reaches of beyond,
Garl hid the way with illusions and false riddles,
Yondalla grew thick covers to obscure him,
Magblubiyet cursed any who learned of his location to die in war,
Rao gave insight that he should not be disturbed,
All these gods and more played their part.
For their efforts in fighting the Dark Lord's minions,
And for the blood they shed to exist,
The Oerth Mother rewarded many a colleague.
She shared the gift of life with good and evil alike.
Gods good and evil gave rise to new beings,
Divided by alignment, united in desiring to exist.
So does the Dark Lord now slumber,
Though his legacy remains still yet.
The lower planes, the devils, demons and demodands did he retch after imbibing the solar,
Foul creatures that bear his taint.
Such horrors, but pale shadows of Dread Tharizdun's might, so that they might be slain by mortals,
Cannot be so by the gods, bound as they are to the very nature of the planes.
The gods of evil could not dislodge the demon lords or arch-devils,
And but dwell as tenants upon the lower planes,
These creatures, so unlike their original creator and like his enemies,
Are yet another of Dread Tharizdun's cruel paradoxes.
Even as the Dark Lord sleeps, he manifests still upon this Oerth,
Such that Forgotten Temples arise in his name, until he is driven back again.
The Mother, the Elemental Eye, the Egg of Coot...
Be these creatures spawn of the Dark Lord?
Be they minions who escaped imprisonment 'neath the Ice?
If such is the truth, what other horrors now dwell within and without upon the Oerth?
Know thou, then the truth of the Dark Lord,
That his existence allows yours, that should he be destroyed, so shall you.
Such is the paradox of the Dark Lord,
The depraved truth, the obscene lie,
Irony upon irony rose in his wake,
Adding further to his malice and anger.
So do good and evil struggle,
So do light and black come together and fade into gray.
One final bidding, to honor the Dark Lord befittingly.
Never must his name be uttered without first adding the honorific "Dread".
Such was part of the spell of imprisoning,
Woe and damnation to those who fail to pay the Dark Lord his due respect!