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In the world of Niaro there was once peace. There was once hope. Optimism. But one day the gods saw the potential for evil in their creation. They saw, and they could do nothing. Unlike in many other worlds, the gods of Niaro had never sworn vows to keep out of people's lives or decided to leave the planet. Still, there was nothing that could be done. They found a limit in their powers that they had never before seen - the power to create, but not to reign, not to kill. They could help along, but it could never be more than help.
They grieved this.
They grieved it, because they saw how bad their precious world had become. The plague that at first seemed innocent enough - just a few monsters. Monsters were a creation they themselves had made, to balance the world. But there started to come other monsters, monsters they had not created themselves. Evil men with powers of sorcery that far exceeded anything else ever seen on the soil of Niaro. People started to suffer, to die, and in large numbers. Both gods and men tried their best to fight it, but in vain. In the end, most gave up.
The goddess Tayrin, who loved her people more than anything, fell into a despair nobody could wake her from. After a while they started to say that the rain was her tears, so deep was her grief. After years of grief she did the last act she ever did for thousands and thousands of years - she looked to the other worlds, other dimensions, which had watched their struggles with worry. They too were worried what would happen. It was given to a few to be able to travel through the barrier between the universes, to open the portals, and with powers of sorcery as great as this, who could say that they would not come to their universe in due time?
Only the First Ones of the universe could communicate to other worlds. Tayrin, in her desperation, approached their own First One, who had drawn back when the world was created. He had limited himself, so he would not be tempted to kill everything on the planet once he was tired of it, and had even stopped watching in grief from what happened. She begged him to ask for help. Thanks to her, the greatest plan in the history of Niaro, and of several other worlds involved, was formed.
From now on she became the Goddess of the Prophecy. The Prophecy of the one destined to help them, the one with powers from more than one world, the one with more power than even the gods. The one who would see the world with a stranger's eyes but treat it with a friend's love. The Moonchild, they called this prophecied saviour. The Moonchild would have helpers. The Wolf. People from their own world. The Half Man. The Demon.
But the hopes of the prophecy and the long preparations of the plan made the hope fade away, as people found it harder to survive, harder to find a place they could be safe. And the Goddess of the Prophecy never forgot the reasons for the Prophecy, and grieved for thousands of years. In the end, she was again known as the Goddess of the Grief and all but a few people had forgotten about the entire Prophecy.

Am I revealing too much? Yes, I am. At least if you've watched me for a while and know my characters. Or maybe not - I don't know. At least this world finally has a name.

Speedpainting, one hour, Painter.

Description

In the world of Niaro there was once peace. There was once hope. Optimism. But one day the gods saw the potential for evil in their creation. They saw, and they could do nothing. Unlike in many other worlds, the gods of Niaro had never sworn vows to keep out of people's lives or decided to leave the planet. Still, there was nothing that could be done. They found a limit in their powers that they had never before seen - the power to create, but not to reign, not to kill. They could help along, but it could never be more than help.
They grieved this.
They grieved it, because they saw how bad their precious world had become. The plague that at first seemed innocent enough - just a few monsters. Monsters were a creation they themselves had made, to balance the world. But there started to come other monsters, monsters they had not created themselves. Evil men with powers of sorcery that far exceeded anything else ever seen on the soil of Niaro. People started to suffer, to die, and in large numbers. Both gods and men tried their best to fight it, but in vain. In the end, most gave up.
The goddess Tayrin, who loved her people more than anything, fell into a despair nobody could wake her from. After a while they started to say that the rain was her tears, so deep was her grief. After years of grief she did the last act she ever did for thousands and thousands of years - she looked to the other worlds, other dimensions, which had watched their struggles with worry. They too were worried what would happen. It was given to a few to be able to travel through the barrier between the universes, to open the portals, and with powers of sorcery as great as this, who could say that they would not come to their universe in due time?
Only the First Ones of the universe could communicate to other worlds. Tayrin, in her desperation, approached their own First One, who had drawn back when the world was created. He had limited himself, so he would not be tempted to kill everything on the planet once he was tired of it, and had even stopped watching in grief from what happened. She begged him to ask for help. Thanks to her, the greatest plan in the history of Niaro, and of several other worlds involved, was formed.
From now on she became the Goddess of the Prophecy. The Prophecy of the one destined to help them, the one with powers from more than one world, the one with more power than even the gods. The one who would see the world with a stranger's eyes but treat it with a friend's love. The Moonchild, they called this prophecied saviour. The Moonchild would have helpers. The Wolf. People from their own world. The Half Man. The Demon.
But the hopes of the prophecy and the long preparations of the plan made the hope fade away, as people found it harder to survive, harder to find a place they could be safe. And the Goddess of the Prophecy never forgot the reasons for the Prophecy, and grieved for thousands of years. In the end, she was again known as the Goddess of the Grief and all but a few people had forgotten about the entire Prophecy.

Am I revealing too much? Yes, I am. At least if you've watched me for a while and know my characters. Or maybe not - I don't know. At least this world finally has a name.

Speedpainting, one hour, Painter.