When the world began, the creator goddess, who was without a name, gave shape and form to the world. She created the land and the waters to divide them, the plants and animals that eat them. When She saw the herds that roamed the land, happy and secure in each others’ company, she grew saddened, for there was but one of Her. And so, She split herself to create company She could keep, and to give variety to Her perfect creation.
But in the splitting, there was danger; as she divided herself, corruption came in from beyond the Darkness from which Kandin was created. And so even as the goodly goddesses of dwarves and humans took stewardship over Kandin, they were challenged by pieces of the First Goddess; their mirror images, but twisted and cruel, bent on reshaping their Mother’s work. Thus it was that The Lady Under the Mountain, revered by dwarves, had to protect even their birth from That Which Lurks, who sought to devour them from the first. Knowing still some of the names that the First Goddess knew, the Lady called out to the earth itself to protect her children. The Spirit of Stone answered her call, and while not aligned with the Lady, stone protects inherently. Her children were safe, and she protects them still.
Reown, Teah, Acerel were less able to combat their own opposition. Three of the so-called Seven Sisters, they were in immediate conflict with their counterparts Theira, Jeirade, Torysan. As they fought, Teah called out for their last sister, Heisan, to help them as they struggled. But Heisan was preoccupied: she had taken the chance to create humanity as her sisters fought. Pleased with her new creation, she commanded her sisters to make peace, swearing that she would destroy them one by one if their combat hurt her children. Reluctantly, they acquiesced, and revealed themselves to humanity: Reown, Teah, and Acerel to shepherd and guide them, Theira, Jeirade, and Torysan to corrupt and attempt to turn them against the other sisters.
As Heisan’s children spread, they met another race, older than they. They claimed no connection to any gods, and instead drew their power from communion with their ancestors. Each baffled at what seemed to be heathen, blasphemous practices, they clashed, and so human made war on elves within a year of their first contact. For a decade, they shed blood over repeated slights, some real, some imagined, but all stemming from their lack of understanding. Finally, each realized that not only was peace possibly, but necessary: while they had warred, the corrupted gods had been busy, populating the world with horrors of their own design, and corrupting members of the first races. They declared peace, and set out to combat the goblins, orcs, and dragons that now terrorized Kandin.
Not only evil had been occupied, however. The Spirit of Stone had birthed gnomes, which It saws as Its favored children, even above the dwarves It had protected. Heisan had tried her hand again, after what she saw as failure with humans:she created a smaller, quieter folk, less prone to war but also less likely to carve out illustrious names: halflings, who tilled the First Goddess’ earth and prided themselves are caretakers.
Despite all this, the darkness was winning, and the mightiest priestesses of the good goddesses devised a plan. The draconic threat was the biggest danger: any given dragon was more than a match for most hundred men of any race, even in those days, when warriors were mightier. The priestesses prayed for nine days and ten nights. On the morning of the tenth day, the combined power of all uncorrupted deities brushed the earth for a single instant, shattering both the bodies of the priestesses and the might of the dragons. The dragons retreated to their lairs with their amassed hoards, awakening only a few times a century. The celebration of this triumph is called the Day of Undoing, or the Unday, and is still celebrated as the first day of each year, as the original was the first day of a new age.