The gods should have won. All the prophecies and portents stated that the gods should have won. The forces of evil should have been vanquished.
And that happened.
At the appointed time, at the appointed place, the Armies of Heaven stood and waited for the Legions of Hell. The Final Battle was upon the world.
The Legions of Hell did not appear.
Insulted by this slight, the Armies of Heaven descended into the Hells. There they discovered two things: (1) there were only seven hells now, two having been completely obliterated, and (2) devils no longer reigned in the hells. They hadn’t for some time.
Centuries ago, the Damned had risen against the Fallen. The Fallen, for all their power, were few and the Damned were practically numberless. The War in Hell lasted six hundred years, but at the end the Fallen were cast down. The Damned ruled the Seven Hells and they had no intention of following the script that prophecy had laid out for them. They chose oblivion over an eternity of suffering, but they were determined to take their oppressors with them, both the devils and the gods.
As the Armies of Heaven stood in speechless shock upon the Plains of Agony, the Damned slew the Fallen. A wave of necrotic energy swept out, destroying everything in its path. The devils died. So did the Damned.
The Armies of Heaven tried to flee. They opened portals to other planes.
This would be disastrous.
As the gods perished, their bodies released radiant energies that reacted cataclysmically with the necrotic death-storm. The resultant, otherworldly explosion, tore apart reality.
The barriers separating the various elemental realms collapsed, and the Planes of Air, Earth, Fire and Water poured into one another creating a single Plane of Elemental Fury. In the heavenly realms, the Fields of Joy burned and many of the Blessed burned with them. The gods who remained were powerless to stop the cataclysm.
On Odekor, burning angels fell from the sky. Some lesser devils, having escaped the destruction of the Seven Hells sought refuge in the Underdark. Sadly, that refuge was short-lived. A planar breach flooded the Underdark, forcing its denizens to flee to the hated surface. They found no respite there, only more death.
An otherworldly storm had swept across the world. Continents burned. Cities melted. Whole populations were obliterated. Over four thousand years of prophecy-shaped history had come to an end.
A future that should never have existed now unfolded before the scant survivors.
Betrayed by prophecy, failed by their gods, most of Odekor’s survivors now looked at the world as a chaotic, unpredictable place.
As such, they began to refer to Odekor as the Crooked World.