"In elder days, before the basin, there was only the underneath. We dwarves lived there, come to by means lost to antiquity. Some say from worlds far off, sailed from by the barks of yore. Others say sprung from the rock by the rock for the rock. And for the ore. That is not the point of the story. Simply know that the dwarves were alone when Dothan and Janus were first together.
"Janus was the dark of night, complete and terrible, as transparent as crystal in a cavern. Dothan was the light that awakened within, warm and changing as the forge fire. He illuminated the darkness, and Janus, smitten with the first change ever, took on raiments so that she might be seen, a shape of glass, metals blended into armor, and two gloves, one open to the touch of light and one closed to keep her hold on the heavens.
"The two held hands eternally above the cold deserts of the world, heating and cooling the sands with each passing day, but change, as change is wont to do, brought eternity to focus. Dothan grew jealous of Janus' hold upon the sphere above. He was forever reminded that he was not equal in the heavens so long as he dwelt within night's domain. He took on arms to give him power. His hammer was the opposite of the axis, infinite not in length but in malice. Corruption turned the warmth of the light to heat, and the cold of night was born to oppose it. In the struggle between them, the axis was broken, splintered into finite battle and wielded as a weapon. When at last the conflict had spent itself, Dothan and Janus cast the axis upon the world to have it lost to them both, and peace came to the balance of the heavens.
"It was where the splinter crashed that the first basin was birthed. We of the underdark know the way of the rock shifts. The titans move in their slumber and the earth vibrates with their power. It is the stuff of nightmares, and there are always echoes for minutes, for days, for years to come. The world shifted as never before to echo the quarrel of the gods that day when the staff fell to ground. It brought the fertility of the matron with it, life blooming on the surface, naked to the sky, but free of her guidance at last, that life was chaotic and wicked. Time was first counted in those days as time had found measure in war. Dwarves fought valiantly versus the Frost Giants, and death was tantamount. The hammer was birthed by fire to crack their frozen skulls, and they used great chunks of Stave to bash we tiny souls who challenged them.
"Dothan saw this and wept for what he had caused the world. It had been his envy over creation that had broken infinity. Three tears fell from his lighted eye, and Janus was moved by them. She looked upon her glove, which she had used to control the axis for as far back as ever, and cast it from her hand. It fell upon the last unbroken splinter of the axis of heaven, the heart of the heft of the staff itself, and closed upon it deep in the belly of the world. The second basin burst open where it entered the ground, and she bade Corellon Larethian place his elves within to stave off the hoary host with blades for chopping. The broken cold of the second shift melted headless giants to form a sea ever draining, falling into the Glove holding the Staff to the bottom. Janus anointed the relics of she and Dothan with his Tears and sealed them with keys of silver to hold it all in balance. Seabasin was calm at last, and the dwarves were no longer alone."
from "A Complete History of Lyre Island"
by Bedrock Angus Anvilstrong
