Nameless

Nameless is one of the designations given to the powerful Shadow force. It has been described as an ancient power of darkness and madness and a force of chaos. It is also known as the Great Master, unseen Master, or simply Master. The various forms of the title of master are used in two ways; by Shadows in reference to their god, or by others when speaking of the relationship between Bael'Zharon and the Nameless, the Servant and the Master.

Stormwaltz on the Gods

The following is an excerpt from an interview with Chris "Stormwaltz" L'Etoile conducted by Crossroads of Dereth:

As for the gods, I have a somewhat different view on what it means to be a one. The prevailing belief that gods must appear in humanoid form, or that they must be even remotely comprehensible, strikes me as a particularly silly human conceit. Gods are by definition beyond human experience, so why do so many fantasy pantheons (D&D and EQ, for example) paint the gods as Olympian or Norse "humans writ large?" No, I believe that a god is a verb. A god is something that is not necessarily intelligent or conscious, but effects change in the universe merely by its presence. That is their nature; gods don't choose to make things happen, things happen because they exist. And don't bother trying to comprehend their means and motives; an amoeba has as much ability to comprehend humans.

The Nameless God of the Shadows and the Empyrean Light Gods embody this principle. They're described about as well as they can be in "Brink of the Abyss." Asheron's light bolt spell - that's a small bit of what it's like to be near a Light God. Evaen's vision in portalspace is a little taste of what the Nameless is. I've often described the thing the Shadows serve as "a virus with the power of god," and as "that moment you bolt up from a nightmare, but aren't fully awake yet."

The following is the portion from The Brink of the Abyss mentioned by Chris L'Etoile:

"We're flies stinging a mare. Go through the damned portal." So saying, he shoved me from behind, and I toppled into the light. The luminous tunnel whirled open before me, and I slid through unimaginable space.

Something slammed me from behind, and I heard an alien shriek. The walls of the tunnel rippled and dimmed. Pain shuddered through me. I wondered that it should, as I was bodiless and falling. . .

Limbs burning. Acidic fire crawling up arms and legs. Shriek -- wipe the burning away. Slides around fingers, dives beneath skin. The burning laughs. Razors march up along rubbery bones. Fingers dissolve into spray. Arms black water, dripping away to join the sea. Vision trembles. Black slides across vision. Blink -- lids burn away. Must watch. The mind afire. The black sea lunges up. No!

Darkness. Screaming. Sliding down through warm weightless mud. Can't breathe! A million voices. Sliding across each other, falling apart, recombining. Marching, fighting. We fell at Cragstone. (Where is Cragstone?) We fell in the woods. (We have never seen these woods.) We are a liar! (No, we are!) We saw the watch fires go out, and heard the army shriek around us. (We have never been soldiers.) We were trying to find my sister. We heard her crying in the night. The moons went out. (We have no sister.) We were six. (We were twenty-two, forty-seven, four hundred sixty). We stood before the Great Old Ones in the mire. (Before the what?) We were taken to the moldering depths of the old Academy. The green light burned our eyes.

We have no eyes!

We thrash. No. No arms. No legs. What struggles? Only essence, stripped of ego. Who are we? We are. . .

Coming apart.

We do. We are nothing. There is only all. We are the Hand. We grow.

A great weight drags us down, compacting us. We become. We bend. There is a hole. It eats light. We grovel before It. It takes us. We are strong. It makes us strong. We are part of It. Thin, monotonous piping. It is all. They take It away, piece by piece. Cruelly, with fire. Burning away the beauty. It squeals and recoils, lashing at them. They imprison It in small patterns. It is not theirs. It precedes them. The great crime. We take It back. It becomes again.

All one.

We are.

Forever.

. . . Light. . .

I toppled out of the portal and into frigid waters of the Prosper, falling to my knees and gasping. Celdiseth splashed behind me, his breathing ragged.

"Evaen?" His hand found my shoulder. His fingers were ice-cold and trembling. "Son, are you all right?"

I vomited into the muddy water.

---

Articles mentioning the Nameless:

Shadow Note Translation (Amorphous Lump), Taste of Twilight:

He has been twisted. Oh, not as thoroughly as the elder ones. Not yet. But while the Bael'Zharon rages and broods in his prison, the General remains cool and thoughtful. He still wonders what the price may be, and what would happen should the Nameless be released. Until we know this, we should not act as they would have it.

Shadow Note Translation (Fleshy Lump), Taste of Twilight:

We all one

One voice
One form
Praise
One
Beyond
Nameless
Eternal

All

Facilitation, Lonely in the World:

"Caution. Does your race have any idea of the concept? Little wisps of air, blowing from point to point, fighting over grains of sand. We saw the caution of your kind, lesser, when the herald of the Nameless was let loose on the world. And if we hadn't stepped in? Lucky for the humans that the Directive had other plans for Auberean

AC:DM CD Lore/Bestiary/Derethian Bestiary: Shadows, Dark Majesty:

Three thousand years ago, an Empyrean named Ilservian Palacost gave himself over in service to an ancient, nameless power of darkness and madness. He became known as Bael’Zharon, the “Slayer of Hope” in the language of Asheron’s people. Ilservian’s followers were changed into Shadows.

The History of Auberean/Volume V: New Arrivals (-540 to 13), A Perfect Paradox:

With Bael'Zharon let loose on the world, Asheron appears in Isparian towns in an attempt to keep him at bay. After a series of confrontations between them, Asherson's Emissaries appear near the towns of Cragstone, Zaikhal and Hebian-to and inform the people there that he has need for certain artifacts to use in incantations to weaken Bael'Zharon. Once weakened, Bael'Zharon's physical form can be destroyed. As Asheron casts the spell, hundreds of Isparians pour into a portal to the Hopeslayer's sanctum, defeating Bael'Zharon and banishing his spirit to the black realm of the Nameless.