Jer’zail was one of the last Gods to enter through the Oculus, so bored was he of the vast, endless nothing outside of Alteria that he became curious as to what his siblings had devoted so much of their time to.

Upon entering Alteria, Jer’zail was immediately unhappy with the result. There was no conflict, no creature that he could force to obey him, all he saw was lifeless, desolate blackness. He was unimpressed with it.

The God of Strength spoke with the other Gods about their own creations. Lo’ani showed him her beautiful garden with colours and endless flowers. Jer’zail was sickened by the display. Kurthal showed Jer’zail the impressive creatures and his endless jungle – Jer’zailremained unmoved as he deemed the creatures too weak for his purposes. Sermali presented Jer’zail with the endless sky of her plane and the majesty of its views. Jer’zail considered them beneath him. Dershan shared with his older brother a secret from beneath Alteria’s surface. Jer’zail deemed it inconsequential. Finally, when Jer’zail came to Quel’Lan’s domain, Quel’Lan showed him the fantastically magical realm she had made. Jer’zail found it mundane. Disappointed with his siblings, Jer’zail returned to his dead, grey plane and sat upon his throne, depressed at the lack of anything interesting in the other worlds.

Some of the other Gods came to look upon Jer’zail’s domain, most examined his lifeless creation and moved on, thinking their eldest brother was pondering on his creation. The last Goddess to visit him, Quel’Lan, decided to goad her brother into action. Quel’Lan teased Jer’zail, for his plane lacked any imagination and didn’t show the fury he was so well known for.

Quel’Lan had her fun at Jer’zail’s expense and left the God of Strength alone on his desolate plane. Enraged that his siblings had all accomplished some form of success in their own domains, Jer’zail found his inspiration in rage. His fists slammed into Alteria’s surface and dented it. Where his rage burned, flows of fire and molten rock overturned until his entire plane was aflame. None of the other Gods applauded his work. None dared to even enter his domain for Jer’zail was known for his wrath. They shrunk away from Jer’zail and left the God to his land of fire and death..

With their fear, Jer’zail knew he had made the proper plane. A plane where only those of true strength could survive. As the Gods turned their gaze from his newly formed haven, Jer’zail sat upon his throne, now flowing with magma while flames erupted about his frame. The creatures that crawled forth from the fissures bathed in the rage of Jer’zail and as his rage consumed them, their forms twisted into horned, spiteful frames to match their new nature.

As Jer’zail watched his new playthings fight among themselves. The weaker of the creatures were crushed and reduced to ash across the God’s plane. He watched in glee as they fought for his amusement.

One day, as he walked his wonderful plane of fire, Jer’zail came across a small encampment in the rocks. None of his creatures had ever created a settlement and he was intrigued at which of his siblings’ pitiful creations would dare infringe upon his domain.

Jer’zail looked upon the pale-faced creatures but they bore no signature from his siblings. So small were they that he knew his creatures would devour them in time. Jer’zail was impatient, however, and sent his creatures to deal with the small encampment of pale-face creatures.

Watching the large wyrm-like beasts split the earth as they approached the encampment, Jer’zail turned away, perfectly content to let his minions deal with the weak little beings in his stead.

Jer’zail returned to his volcanic throne and looked across his plane bathed in flame. It was great. It was vast. It was violent… but it missed something. Jer’zail pondered on this a great while until finally, he was struck on the toe.

Confused, Jer’zail peered down at the base of his throne. Before him stood one of the creatures he had sentenced to death. It had survived his rage-filled beasts, crafted armor from their remains and wielded one of the spikes of its rage as a weapon.

Jer’zail laughed and asked the little creature what chance it thought it had against the God that had created a plane of such fury. The creature bellowed at the God, its essence screamed that it was not afraid, that it did not fear death and that it would have the God bend its knee to him for the terrible deed Jer’zail had done.

For days, the small creature attacked Jer’zail as the God watched in curiosity. For days it landed blow after blow against the God until its spike was dulled to a pebble, yet it did not yield.

After a week, Jer’zail finally stopped the creature, who still tried to swing at the God. He placed the creature in his palm and held it before his face.

“You have shown your ferocity, weakling” Jer’zail said to the creature as looked over the insignificant speck that had somehow defeated his creatures born of rage. Still the creature would not yield. With interest, Jer’zail offered the creature a compromise.

“There is no honour in me killing you, for it would be as easy as drawing breath. Instead, I offer you strength and power. To be by my side and to be free to roam my lands. What do you say?”

The creature was tired. Its knuckles were bloody and its armour heavy. It agreed and with a deep breath, Jer’zail released his fiery essence upon the creature. The fire circled the creature and renewed it. The breath entered its body and burned it from the inside. Its hide hardened from the weak flesh from what it was and became a strong hide. The flame erupted from the creature’s skull and cooled into mighty horns and finally, the lava leaked down the creature’s back and formed tail with a pointed tip.

No longer did the creature miss its armour or its spike. It had natural weapons. Jer’zail tasked his new Abyssal to go forth and return with more of those who had been like him so that he may bequeath them the same gifts.

The new Abyssal strode forth into the remains of his old encampment, his former friends looked upon him in fear and worry. Forcefully, the new Abyssal brought forth his old clan before Jer’zail for them to receive the God’s gift.

So was born Jer’zail’s children; The Abyssals. Born of stubbornness and pain. Born to a desolate plane of fire and death. Born of strength and weakness. Born to serve Jer’zail and bring others into his glory.