The first spirit, the realm keeper, the creator of all life. But what happens when all life has been created? His path is eternal, he cannot be stopped so he must be... kept. One moment his gargantuan feet treading without a sound on a forest floor full of life, the next he is greeted with a desolate plain to begin again. A new world, just for him. This world will be his to tread through infinitely, creating life in a cage. Don’t feel bad for the old God, he has one purpose and cares for little else. Maybe it's best that the creator of existence isn't at all aware of his surroundings or the power he possesses. Creating life without thought as he walks throughout the realm, an enormous life tree sprouting from his back and an everlasting flame cocooned in his stomach, its light glowing out for all to see. Although nothing is here to see it yet.

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The creator knows his purpose and carries out his task silently, he is a gentle creature without the need for much cognitive power. Light and dark, good and evil, he has no preference but instinctively keeps a balance. As his foot falls on this empty world life springs forth, lush flora erupting from his every movement, vines spread from his footprints creating untamed jungles. A wild landscape, for now. Creatures will start to spark into existence, to feed from this beautiful world, and then order will be needed.

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When the creator has reached the edges of this realm, walked every inch into life, he does not stop. He continues his journey ensuring the balance. In the beginning this was simple, little pockets of life were evolving and only small interference was necessary. This is not a conscious choice for him, as he walks his life tree drops saplings where equilibrium is needed. A sapling may grow into what is required, a Knox spirit to maintain the darker necessities of life and a Mori spirit to walk in the light.

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As like the realm creator Knox and Mori have a task to complete, they do no judge themselves whether this is good or evil, and nor should you.

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Mori is a spirit of life, a small flame glowing almost celestially. If a creature of the realm, for instance needs assistance creating their home, Mori can manipulate the landscape. For the Kobold Spriggans  who were beginning to starve, Mori planted a small forest of nectar mushrooms for them to feed from. A vibrant grove of colour, now full of life. The Mori will remain there to oversee this place, but many more Mori saplings will fall from the Creators life tree. As will many Knox.

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Unfortunately creating life to feed life cannot always solve the ever-perpetuating problem of balance, darker duties must be performed. Knox is a dark spirit, not at all evil but his path must be one of elimination. A mirror of Mori, Knox's small form appears to drip flame instead of emit it brightly. Knox will rot away life where it has overgrown, create shade where there is light and extinguish the bloom of new existence. A sapling dropped from the life tree grew into a Knox on the edge of the Hogbane plateau, the highland had been filled with a glistening forest of cherry red trees. Shinning like flames in the light the trees had attracted too many Chittering Bristlethorns  who were thriving in the canopy. These creatures were overtaking the forest and choking their own paradise, eating away at the sweet wood. Knox sent a whisper of disease into the knot of a gnarled old crimson giant, the tree passing the whisper along, slowly infecting an entire copse of the glowing timber. The Chittering Bristlethorns retreated, slowing their spawning as their food supply was now limited. A red bog now sits on the edge of the flaming plateau, disease scorched roots the only reminder of the once glowing beauty. This Knox will remain here to ensure life does not seep too far through, to keep life in its's place.

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The realm grows steadily, the creator drifting through it on his eternal journey. Mori and Knox spirits are brought to life to oversee the harmony of light and dark. And now the cage is ready to hold more beings whose purpose has become futile. A problem of what to do with spirits that once were created to oversee an important task in their own world, much like Mori and Knox, but are now obsolete. The caged realm is the solution, Amaranthine will be their eternal playground.

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The Sippra spirit from a distance realm has spent thousands of years creating an impenetrable fog over marshland in their home world, the perfect conditions for giant torcido spikes to thrive and provide a home for the worlds more grisly inhabitants. When the growing 'Nati' tribe finally conquered the entire terrain they set huge mechanical beasts to clear the marshes. No inhabitants remain, no torcido spikes and no fog. Spirits cannot cease to be, cannot be killed and cannot die. So the Sippra spirit finds itself belonging to the forgotten realm of Amaranthine, ceaselessly spilling fog from his small ebony hands, filling cannons and crevice's, that is his purpose after all. Will a Mori be called to pierce light through the haze, or maybe a Knox will contain the darkness. The creator will reach the fog sooner or later on his journey, and a sapling will fall.

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This curious world may not be as impenetrable as intended, maybe things can get out and maybe things can get in...