The Codex of Allas
At the very peak of the Akrelian Keep, a great window of translucent diamond looks down upon the First City, Illias. A tall being in the form of a man stands there, dressed in silver armor. Over the surface of his armor, glowing runes swarm like silverfish. A four-pointed star is etched on his forehead.
He stands there motionless, and then dissolves in a cloud of silver mist, reappearing at a shimmering silver pillar in the center of the room, created from some metallic alloy pulled up from the fiery depths in the moment that the world was born, but somehow never losing its heat. The room at the peak of the Akrelian Keep has no visible ceiling. Above the god is a reproduction of the dome of the sky, the sun shining by day, the stars turning by night. But everything is made of metal and gears, a vast clockwork animated by divine energy, synchronized with the passage of this world through the universe.
Allas Athaniel was pleased. The mortals had already begun to come to the city, as he had known that they would. Mortals were drawn to places that best fit their nature, Athaniel believed. But all mortals, tall or small, great or weak, believed that there was fairness to the world. And so in time, all would come to worship Justice. Already, Order was finding a place in the world, and it was good. But the Akrelian Keep and the city of Illias would not be enough. It would be necessary to spread his creed all across the world, in places he himself could not be.
And so, on that day, Allas began to write on the silver pillar. On it he etched the Great Runes, copies of the holy marks that flowed across his own body, creating an alphabet for the mortals to use. And he imbued the marks with magic and power, so that mortals favored of Allas Athaniel could hold them in their mind to channel the power of their god's justice. For eleven days, he worked runes into the pillar, until an endless chain of marks covered its every surface. A code of law, a system of magic, and a holy scripture in one, the Silver Pillar encompassed everything that Allas was, the written expression of his being. Finally, he pressed the four-pointed star on his forehead to the one he had carved in the very center of the pillar.
Both stars glowed, and the glyphs on the pillar began to move, faster and faster. Touching his hands to the pillar, he spoke, and all the mortals in the Keep and the city heard his voice. "This is the Codex of Allas, the perfect law. Go throughout the world, raising pillars in my name. Carve the sacred star, and the code will come alive, a small node of my power. Wherever you raise a pillar to me, there also shall my power be."
Allas Athaniel closed his eyes. And the glyphs began to spread. They overflowed from the pillar, flowing across the floor and up the walls. They seeped through the floor and floated through the air.
Within the Akrelian Keep, the most powerful fortress in existence, the God of Justice would be everywhere at once. The walls pulsated with his heartbeat, a low thrum that spoke of equality and righteousness, of just retribution, punishment and reward. On the walls, as anywhere in the Akrelian Keep, glyphs of justice fortitude, protection, and others far more complex now flickered and moved like running water. Though the mighty fortress was made of earthly materials, it was now bound together by the living code that is Allas Athaniel's blood.
Across the city of Illias, white pillars rose from the ground, smaller versions of the great silver pillar, all covered in the flowing, swirling codex of runes. Astonished mortals walked up to the pillars. The first of them, a bent old man, pressed his hands against the pillar. The world disappeared, and he was floating through an endless silver sea. Glowing symbols surrounded him, promising peace, justice, and goodness. Golden and silver, they twisted off into infinity, like an endless chain of silver stars.
Suddenly, the world reappeared. He had removed his hands.
"I could see...everything." And he wept.
From: Allas Athaniel, Guardian of Justice
To: Xatuar the Abomination
When you came into existence, I heard a shriek, as the universe itself cried out in pain. You are a festering sore on the face of the world, a twisted construct given over to every vice imaginable. Know this. The day will come when I see you chained in my dungeons, suffering every crime which you have inflicted upon the mortals. And then, when your debt has been repaid, I will throw you into the Void, from which there will be no escape.