The Origin of Roost

You live in the domain of Roost, a small but scrappy planet made up of five continents. As you grew here, you learned stories of how your world was formed. Whether those stories were legends, or myths, or historical facts... is a bit unclear, but the stories were told with varying degrees of believability and conviction. There are some who tell these tales as if they were the kinds of epics you tell to children at bedtime: fun and exciting, but, at their core, simple fiction layered with morals and lessons. There were some who told these stories as if they were the undeniable truth of the creation of our reality; these were the people who built their religions and lives and hobbies around these narratives, who saw the world through the eyes of that lore. Of course there were others who believed a mix of both, that there were granules of truth in the tales, but had most likely been embellished in some way or another over time. And even still, there were those who didn't believe at all. But, no matter what their opinion of these stories were, every Roostling knew the basic canon.

Before there were kings, before there were kingdoms, before there were lakes and mountains, and rivers and continents, there were The Creators with nothing but the desire to create. The Creators were imagined as great and stunning birds, unparalleled in their insight and power. And because they desired it, these creatures, these Creators, began to build. They built world after world, planet after planet, dimension after dimension. For millennia. You can imagine, with power like that, one is bound to make an enemy or two. For The Creators, these enemies began to destroy the things that they built. The worlds and dimensions that they crafted with deep consideration and love for each leaf and fly and grain of sand were decimated and reduced to rubble. Unable to bear the continued loss of their progeny, The Creators, though benevolent and full of divine grace, fought back to defend their lands and their people. And thus, the Cosmic War began as The Creators did all they could to protect all that they loved. Centuries into the brutal and devastating war left most of what they created in ruins, yet still, their enemies would not relent. They realized that they would never be able to defend it all. There were still too many worlds to protect, and not enough of themselves to defend those worlds against the increasingly numerous and savage onslaught of their enemies. It was then that The Creators saw they had but two choices. They could stand and fight for it all, and spread themselves so thin that they would see the destruction of, not only all that they built, but of themselves as well. Or, they could choose one world, their newest world with the most potential, and guard it with everything they had.

To them, it was obvious. They made the choice to band together and protect just one. They watched as the rest of their planets and their people turned to dust at the hands of their enemies, and braced themselves for the inevitable final attack. And as wave after wave of monster, of beast, of fiend descended upon them and their last world, The Creators fought, and scrapped, and battled with every ounce of their divine beings until every last threat who faced them laid in the ravaged remnants of the worlds they had destroyed. Though the victory was well won, The Creators knew that if they began to build again, they would find themselves in the same position: subject to the jealousy and cruelty of those who only sought destruction. And so, battered and bruised from their tremendous battle, The Creators took on new roles. They tucked their great wings and dove into the oceans of their last planet, becoming inextricably woven into the fabric of this new world. Each of the five Creators became the continents, and home to the people that were born from their sacrifice. From here, they could heal, and if any threat were to cast a shadow across their home, they were in the best position to defend their perfect people. So here, they built their nest, their roost, and gave their home to a new tribe of people.

No longer Creators, these incredible beings became, instead, our Guardians. And although their real names may have been lost to time, The Guardians needed to be called something. In the tongue of their language, the people who flourished here named their continents after their great defenders. First, they named Materhawk, the mother, the place where the first Guardian touched down and where the first child of Roost was born. Materhawk is the giver of life, the original Creator. Next was Hexdove, the bringer of magic, split in two when she crashed to Roost and created the North and South poles of the planet. Then there was Gorgoriole, a three headed fowl whose love of knowledge, agriculture, and art flooded the people of his continent with the divine inspiration for those crafts. Scattersparrow was their mightiest warrior, and likely the reason they were able to win the Cosmic War at all. When she crashed into the ocean, she broke into many smaller parts that ran the length of the world, creating a chain of islands. The last of the Guardians, Lightjay, was the most inspired. He was the one full of ideas, bright with creativity and grand plans. Although the others may have created the outlines and structures of the world, Lightjay filled them with animation and dimension. Now, however, the continent where he landed has been overrun with disease and pestilence, leaving one of the most beautiful and diverse areas of the world barren and dry. Because of this, the people of Roost have come, in recent times, to call this continent Blightjay instead.

The history of this world has been told since its very beginning. Perhaps the truth is buried in the ground with the vestiges of The Guardians. Perhaps the truth can be found, instead, in books steeped in science instead of mystery. Or perhaps, even still, the truth lies somewhere else completely. But in the end, it matters very little. Roost is our home. And it's where our story begins.