And the Prophet Xarius did harken to the Word that our Lord Stelos spake unto him, and did traverse forty times forty miles to tread the darkened halls of the Temple of Destruction. But lo, upon his arrival the doors of the Temple were sealed, and they were forty times the height of a man and forty times the thickness of a man's hand, and made of tempered steel. And Xarius wept, for he had not the strength to open the doors, and could not obey the Word. But then Stelos spake unto him once more: "Lo, faith shall be thine key." And the doors trembled and quaked, and opened to admit the Prophet.

-Book VII of the Stelian Scriptures

"Xar, quit standing in front of the damn torch! I can't see!" The torch moved appropriately, but I got no answer, and when I turned around, I saw him trembling again and struggling to hold back tears of shame. Poor little bastard; I knew I scared the hell out of him. It wasn't his fault; I'd hauled him out of his home village and dragged him halfway across the continent. I hadn't wanted to, but he was a pretty good author and I needed someone to write this crap down. Oh, for the days of oral history. I turned back around and returned to my search of the intricately carved stone before me.

"Canst thou not make thine own light, oh mighty Lord Stelos who dost bestow upon us all his infinite love?" Xarius asked, having apparently regained some measure of courage.

"Yes, but it's easier to have you hold the damn torch," I responded absently, still fiddling with the carvings. "I know it's here somewhere." Xar was silent then, and after a couple more minutes I finally found the little lever I was looking for, concealed in the genitalia of one of the stone gargoyles that adorned the door. Poor, predictable Havoc - still fascinated with toilet humor, even after all these centuries. I flipped the lever - giving the gargoyle the appearance of arousal in the process - and took a step back as the door creaked open. I quickly snapped my fingers, temporarily annulling Xar's sense of smell before the reek from inside sent him screaming into the night.

And the Prophet did enter the Temple of Destruction, and yea was he threatened by beasts and dangers of every type and description, but he did fear no evil, for in his faith he knew that the Lord Stelos would protect him from harm.

"After you," I invited.

"Why do I have to go first?" countered Xarius. Interesting - he'd never stood up to me before. The faint inhuman moans from inside were clearly unnerving him in a major way.

"Because you're the one with the torch," I pointed out, not unreasonably.

"I could give you the torch," he offered.

"Just get your ass in there!"

And the Prophet Xarius did look upon the sacred texts of the Lords of Destruction, and he did find them blasphemous and profane. And filled with righteous wrath, he did smite their inscriptions with his fist, and shattered them by a mighty blow, that none else should be deluded by this travesty of the Word.

"A beetroot. A beetroot! Why that prevaricating, violent, hyperactive, ungrateful little piece of shit!"

Xar stood back, again on the verge of tears, and completely befuddled by what was happening. Of course, he couldn't read the inscriptions carved into the wall. I could. But I sure as hell wasn't going to tell him what it said.

I snorted and scowled as I read the rest of it. Lies, lies, all of it lies.

"Is aught awry, oh most powerful potentate?" came Xar's quavering voice.

"Yes, aught is pretty damned awry, Xar," I said impatiently. I stepped back and examined the carving. It only covered one wall. "Got a knife, Xar?"

"Yes, oh omnipotent lord of the sea," he responded, pulling a knife out of his trousers and offering it to me on outstretched hands.

"See these markings?"

"I do, oh most judicious bringer of plenty."

"Start scratching them out. When you're done, I'll tell you a story that I want you to write down."

And in that time was Havoc brought forth by Our Lord Stelos and by Meta, who was His deputy of coinage and tender of the Nine Unending Flames. The Lord Stelos did dip a hand into the sea, and bring up a handful of all of the animals and plants that did fill the wondrous ocean, and he did sculpt a body. Then Meta did bake that body for forty times forty days and nights, and when he was done, Havoc did emerge from his oven. And Havoc was a fitting servant for Our Master, and he did labor at all hours of day and night for love of Great Stelos.

-Book IX of the Stelian Scriptures: The Testimonal of Xarius the Prophet

"I got together with my friend Meta, you see, and we were talking about how busy we were," I began, as Xar nursed an extremely sore hand. "We figured that if we had an assistant, sort of a personal secretary, we could be more efficient, get more done, etcetera. So I slapped together some odds and ends from sea creatures that I'd always liked, but never quite been able to fit into any of my previous creations, and Meta breathed life into him, and we had a servant. He turned out not to be very energetic - in point of fact, he was a bit lazy. So Meta sort of turned up his internal heat, and then he was very energetic and very productive. Unfortunately, Meta kind of overdid it."

And upon one evening Havoc did espy Byron, the Harbinger of Joy, locked in passionate coupling with Miranda, the Mistress of Dreams. And Havoc was entranced, for never before had he known of the intimate secrets that man and woman may share together.

"Anyway, everything was fine so long as Havoc's efforts were turned towards his job. Unfortunately, one night I sent him to take a message to Byron. Byron was in a, shall we say, private meeting with Miranda, and had forgotten to close the door, metaphysically speaking. Havoc apparently peeped in for a good long time.

"Now, Havoc was still young, and neither I nor Meta had really wanted to be the one to have the birds and bees talk with him. I think we both learned a lesson about parental responsibility with that one. At any rate, Havoc started exploring this little mystery on his own."

And Havoc was possessed of a most powerful desire to know more of the joys between male and female, and he did seek to sate himself with the most beauteous creatures of the heavens. And as Havoc was possessed of forty times forty times the desires of a natural man for a woman, so was his disportment great.

"So suddenly, all this energy that Havoc had been channeling into his work was being redistributed into his new entertainment. He was completely out of control. By the time Meta and I found out, there wasn't a goddess in heaven who could sit down without wincing. Suffice it to say, that something had to be done."

And our Lord Stelos did look upon this immodest coupling, and He was displeased. And He decreed that Havoc should never again know such pleasures outside of marriage, and that he should return to the labors for which he was created. And Havoc did so, out of love for our Lord.

"So Meta and I talked it over, and in the end, we inflicted an appropriate punishment on him. Now, we told him we'd remove our curse when he could learn to behave. He was pissed off, needless to say, and wanted something more concrete, so we told him that if he could talk a goddess into marrying him, that would be sufficient proof of his maturity and responsibility. Now Havoc hated the very idea and refused to consider it, and promptly began acting out, and he hasn't stopped yet. So when a man raises a hand against his wife, or a son kills a father in a murderous rage, or a foreign diplomat spits in his host's drink, you'll know that Havoc is responsible, still throwing a tantrum because Meta and I shrank his dick down to the size of a peanut."