Before the first mountain rose, three vast serpentine intelligences fell into the newborn earth. Their impact formed the oldest caverns. Whether they came from beyond the stars, hatched from the world's first darkness, or were created by a forgotten fourth power is unknown. The earliest mortal civilizations mistook their dreams for earthquakes and built their first religions around the tremors.

The world rests on the sleeping bodies of three great old ones. Mivashira coils around the roots of creation and dreams of continuance. Ozhakhar lies at the central fault, counting every tremor and forgotten name. Zurkheti turns beneath them all, burrowing toward the surface through a darkness older than stars. The heavens are only the reflected glimmer of their sealed subterranean realm.

The religion has no unified hierarchy. Mivashira's worship is maintained by scattered refuges, healer-circles, and hereditary dream-keepers. Ozhakhar's faith is organized into stern custodial orders that preserve laws, seals, tombs, and dangerous relics. Zurkheti's cults are cell-based, competitive, and deliberately unstable; each leader believes they alone understand which command the Burrower truly whispered. Pilgrims sometimes visit all three traditions, believing that protection, judgment, and destruction are necessary stages of spiritual transformation.

Most mortals know the pantheon through fragmentary traditions rather than organized temples. Mivashira is honored in hidden shrines, Ozhakhar in courts and sealed archives, and Zurkheti through secretive subterranean cults. Clerics of different deities may cooperate against undead, aberrations, or catastrophic excavation, but theological disputes often become dangerous because each faith interprets the buried gods as evidence that its own view of the world is correct.

The dead descend through memory into the Undercoil, where the souls of the faithful become dim stars beneath the earth. Those claimed by Zurkheti are dissolved into ancestral instinct; those judged by Ozhakhar are sealed in silent caverns; those welcomed by Mivashira drift through endless subterranean gardens. No soul is certain which fate awaits, for the gods speak through distance, dreams, and geological time.