Griffinclaw11_
Hear now the gods of olympus. those proud and deathless ones. From whose hands matter and creation are spun. Where bickering is a common pastime. Idle sport between draughts of nectar. there exists a tale, lost to the dust of ages, in which even the most steadfast of the Olympians could not stay their sharp tongues and rivalry fell upon them like a sickness. So great was the storm of words they conjured, so terrible the shaking of the heavens that the mortal world below was nearly unmade. And so to settle their quarrel, before all creation was undone, the gods devised a contest. Each immortal would choose a champion plucked from the banks of the river styx and cast them into a land rich with fauna and flora. Ripe picking would these chosen ones enjoy. But not for long, as each would be doomed to fell the other by sword and spear. One alone would be crowned the victor, and that champions god would carry the day, setting whatever frivolous quarrel had set olympus aflame aside. As you might expect, the champions were chosen from gladiators, from those cunning and for their quickness of wit. Others were plucked as reward for lives lived nobley and well, others as punishment for lives lived wickedly. Imagine then the astonishment of the olympian host, when chronos, the very personification of time. Cast it's lot into the ring, not with a warrior, not with a philosopher, but with a blind beggar. A man unremarkable in every aspect of his mortal life. Yet no scorn from the gods, no laughter nor mockery, could turn away the will of chronos........ At least not before he, in his terrible wisdom, saw fit to unveil to the beggar's mind the whole wonder of the cosmos and all the ages of time. With such unbound knowledge poured into a vessel never meant to hold it, the beggar went mad. And it was in this state, eyes blind, but mind aflame with the secrets of eternity. That he was cast among the champions of the gods.