You are one day old
You have no memory of the past
You have no foresight of the future
The gods made you to do their bidding
They require sacrifice
Hundred years past
Perhaps due to sheer luck, perhaps due to inevitability, an unlikely combination of materials unleashed a powerful wave of energy which shook the fabric of the universe, splitting it into two planes. Or maybe even more.
Thus, the “divine” realm was born. You know little of it, except that it had its own abstract rules too incomprehensible for your simple mind. From the complex reactions, the gods eventually manifested as life energy condensed into conscious entities with self-agency.
There was no hierarchy, there was no order, just sheer drive to survive - after all, what more is there to life?
Some of them worked together, some fought, some grew stronger, some weakened. Those who survived became wiser and evolved. But with too many creatures and abused resources, their plane soon became exhausted. The divine turned wasteland, where only the smartest and most inventive could survive.
Krewski, one of the eldest, sought to reach the other planes in desperate gasp for dwindling energy. He devised the pylons as a link between the worlds, harvesting resources of the still luscious and unspoiled mortal plane. And then, he made you.
You have no memory of the past. You have no foresight of the future. You are one day old, a wraith spawned to do god’s bidding. A desperate attempt of a dying deity.
The land of Idyllia is the second plane, full of its own intricate rules for you to discover. Yet, untouched by the greed of the dying higher planes, it is brimming with life. Opulent greens and limber animals roam the plains and forests. The yellow flowers are dense with life-creating pollen. Energy ripe for the taking.
The gods have not left you unassisted. Sprawling through the lands are enchanted Pylons, a divine creation that can absorb and transform life energy. Attuned to specific forms of organic tissue, they chime and sing in a harmonic rhythm that reverberates with provided sacrifice. The microscopic vibrations slowly disintegrate material tissue, releasing and absorbing the energy into growing vines. An efficient form of natural battery. When sufficient stores are accrued, the pylons take a chunk of your own consciousness and transform it to create new life - your children.
The green oddly-shaped critters, a leftover from the plant-like vines, are simple-minded but forever bound to you. Imprinted with your own consciousness, they recognize your smell, your shape, your sound. They are your children, much as you are the child of the gods.
The children are curious little beings, wandering and exploring the world with excitement. They pick things up and throw them around. They carry heavy burdens and place them on pylons. To them, it is but play.
Play that you can leverage to do your bidding.
But like all organic beings, your children have needs. They grow hungry and must replenish their energy with scattered fruit. They must fend off against predators. You must care for your children, lest they perish.
Many other life forms roam the lands. Some are benign, exist with the sole goal of existing - they feed on the grass and mate, evolving their specie. Some, however, can be dangerous. The snakes feed directly on others’ life energy, attacking when threatened. They must be avoided… or fought. You must teach your children to protect themselves.
All critters are brimming with life energy. The gods have made Pylons attuned to this specific energy as as well. Unlike the flowers, however, they grow no vines. They send it to the divine plane, feeding the very god that spawned you. They are your only link to your creator, a cumbersome necessity in a foreign realm.
Perhaps if you appease Krewski, he will allow you to return and live on?