Concavia: The Dark Lord Tàmhas.

The worship of Tàmhas in Concavia resembles certain strands of Gnosticism in our world. Gnosticism is a broad family of beliefs, but to generalise, many Gnostics saw the material world as flawed or corrupt, they saw matter itself as a prison for the soul which carried the divine spark of the true hidden god. In some traditions, the creator of the world (the Demiurge) was seen as a false god who brought about all pain and suffering in the creation of this imperfect realm. Beyond him was the true, hidden God, the supreme being, who existed before all things. Gnostics sought to awaken the divine spark within themselves and return to this higher reality through gnosis (secret knowledge). These were not uniform teachings, but a set of loosely related traditions evolving over centuries.

In a similar way, Tàmhas-cultists believe Tàmhas to be the supreme being, or Monad. Before the light of Leuada, there was only darkness… there was Tàmhas. To borrow the Gnostic framework, Leuada here would play the part of the Demiurge, his shaping of the world from Tàmhas’ broken body was, in the cultists’ eyes, a corruption of the eternal order of peace and harmony. What should have been an unchanging and undying realm of inaction was refashioned into a mortal world of pain, fear and endless cycles of birth and death.

The worship of Leuada and his children, the gods, is life-affirming. It celebrates the sun, the world, and the span of time given to each soul in this life. By contrast, the worship of Tàmhas is life-denying, resting on the promise of an afterlife and devaluing the present in favour of rewards beyond, granted only to those who serve him here and now.

Their version of creation inverts the tale of beginnings, casting Tàmhas as a true god wronged. Together with Leuada, Tàmhas forged the golden ring-world Gelh as a place of meeting. From the loam of Gelh he shaped Mehter in love. Yet in this telling, Leuada, driven by desire, stole the first kiss and with it breathed life into her. Thus Mehter fell under his spell, bound to him alone, and Tàmhas’ work, meant as his beloved, was seized away.

When Tàmhas found her alone at last, he sought to break Leuada’s spell. First he pleaded with words, but when they failed he forced himself upon her, hoping to bind her to himself. Mehter cried out, and Leuada, hearing her, came soaring through the air to strike him. Then battle was joined. Leuada triumphed, and with his corrupting hands he shaped the imperfect world of Concavia from the perfect form of the true god. From this act flowed all sorrow. Mortals were fated to sicken and die, beasts to devour one another, and fear to hold sway over all.

Dhegoma, the ill-begotten son of Tàmhas and Mehter, learned the hidden truth in the lowest depths and swore to help his father reclaim his body. The Dwalves too believe their cause to be just. After the war of heaven, when their father was broken and cast beyond the world to join Tàmhas, they took up his oath. Through the long ages they have laboured without rest, seeking vengeance for the wrongs done to the true god and his heir.

Since they see the world as inherently evil, the devotees of Tàmhas often follow harsh paths of asceticism. They practise self-denial, renounce worldly pleasures, and seek to sever all earthly ties. Such disciplines are meant to cultivate the immortal spark of the soul and to master the lower, animal nature of the flesh.

Yet this path of darkness does not end only in renunciation. At times it leads to unnatural gifts, bestowed by the banished powers in recognition of the devotee’s devotion and their rejection of the corporeal world. These dark blessings may grant a longer span of years in which to serve the Lord of darkness, or else confer powers of divination, drawing upon the hidden wells of his domain. Illusion and dream-sorcery might be drawn from Swoma, while the strength of stone and earth could be channelled through Dhegoma himself.

Worship of Tàmhas is rare among mortals. Most peoples keep to traditions of ancestor-veneration, tracing their line back through the Alves and Albes to the gods themselves. Yet some, like the subterranean Maäliset, give honour to the Dwalves. Among the Merefolk too there are those who follow the deep powers, though both peoples harbour splinter groups who turn instead to the lords and ladies of light.

Yet now the world has changed. An impenetrable mist has risen in the north. Dwalves are seen mustering their hosts. The seal at the base of the hourglass stairwell, which holds Tàmhas beyond the world, is said to be under threat. These portents are what set in motion the tale of Concavia.

Each age of Concavia has closed with a world-changing event. The Days of Gold ended with the slaying of Tàmhas and the shaping of Concavia and the sundering of Gelh. The Days of Silver fell with the war of heaven, the death of the gods, and the sealing of the hourglass stairwell. The Days of Copper were ended by the fall of Talanā, the great flood, and the rise of the land-wights.

Now the Days of Iron may be nearing its end. Will the forces of darkness make it the final age, or will the cycle renew?

Anyway I think that’s a pretty good introduction to the motivations of the followers of the dark god, Tàmhas. The upcoming post about Leuada will provide another perspective.