from The World of Nos Ferrak’t by Kyle Wronski-Herbst

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The purpose of these notes are not to tell you the entire history of Nos Ferrak’t—as like many worlds, much is inconsequential to the ebb and flow of other planes. However, this strange and secluded nook within the planar system is home to an artifact that I find to be particularly intriguing and worthy of study.

“The Well”, as Ferrakian historical scripture describes it, is the most revered holy site to all  inhabitants, to the devout and non-practicing alike. To put it lightly, the only beings that know of the true nature of The Well are the deities themselves—with even some of them being left in the dark of knowledge long dead.

Our records do not go back long enough to know when The Well came into existence, which means it can simply be theorized that it has been here since existence. It was first observed floating idly within the planar sea, undisturbed, with no activity.

Author’s note: Ah yes, I suppose I should clarify, there was no little stone well with a wooden bucket to draw water from floating in the endless expanse of the universe—The Well is much more akin to a body of water, black as night. A lake, if you will, drifting through nothingness.

That is of course, until it very much so became active. The dark expanse began to show flecks of color, until The Well began to shimmer like black opal, iridescent and wonderous. From The Well began to leak inklings of Nos Ferrak’t. It gave birth to the plane, barren and uninhabitable. Mountain ranges crept from the depths, as well as  deep valleys, cracked and splintered landscapes. The world took shape. Soon afterwards, color faded from The Well once more and it stood darkened and still.

One day, within that quiet expanse, The Well began to ripple. From that disturbance grew waves—waves and troughs so distant it began to close in on itself. For a brief moment in history, The Well shifted into a form most closely resembling a whirlpool, sinking endlessly deep and surging incalculably fast.

From the water broke a hand so massive it could crush any mage’s academy in a single motion. That hand reached through the crashing water and gripped the edge of The Well, only to be followed shortly by another, the figure breaching from the depths, clawing itself to the empty landscape stretching on endlessly in every direction.

This moment became known as the birth of Nessipier, The First Primordial.

Following Nessipier, eleven more came, each commanding the many domains of Nos Ferrak’t. Each wielding unique, immense power. They were beings of pure instinct, without reason, without empathy. They each came into the world with two goals: To feed. To grow.

These primordials feasted upon all early life on Nos Ferrak’t—until there was nothing remaining but themselves. After countless centuries feasting, they began to hunt the only remaining beings—each other. Eventually all Primordials fell, either through combat or starvation, their heavy corpses sinking into the ground below, some merging with the environment.

Long after the smoldering world settled and The Well lay still, two new entities climbed from the waters. These two beings were simply known as A and O. The Progenitor, and The Terminus  – The originator deities of Nos Ferrak’t.

With the arrival of the duel gods, life began to return to the plane.

Even this still, is not the reasoning for our interest in this hidden world. The Primordials, the Gods—most places have that in some essence or another. It’s how these beings came to exist. The Well is not only a source of life, it is a source of creation itself. Of thought. Of sentience.

The fact that there is a source within the known planar system in which sentience can form from nothing—that is why I am the Watcher of Nos Ferrak’t.