Icecrown Myth

The fire crackles as you lean your head into Dad's shoulder. The frightening caravaners are huddled around the light with you, finally finishing the stinky fish they brought with them on this trip. Foreigners are so strange.
"You ask the hard questions, child," the soft looking kitty person purrs.
"She does." Dad's voice rumbles through his chest and you close your eyes feeling more at home if you don't have to look at the fangs. "It's an important story though.
"In the first age, the races were created. In the second they found their homes. Now in the third we must live in them. Our ancestors were not the first to arrive in these lands though. Terrible creatures, the forefathers of our strikehearts and byrgegs, preyed upon them as they sought their Glory. Beset upon enemies in the lowlands, the monsters in the forests and peaks, our ancestors sought answers from anyone, or anything, that could save them. One group found salvation in the brimstone embrace of a devil. Their arrows shrieked as they pierced the hearts of their enemies, taking a bit of the archer's soul with every kill. Another group wailed for the Raven Queen, praying for a just death that could not be given from these vile creatures. As is her way, the Raven Queen did not prevent their deaths but taught them how to harness the natural cycle of death to kill these creatures and bring forth new life. In return, these rangers now serve the Raven Queen in the afterlife. Another group found peace under the wing of a dragon. They became the predators, ambushing their prey and surviving long enough to serve Tiamat here on the Material Plane. Yet another forged an alliance with the Angel of Contempt. They survived the monsters but bound themselves too tightly to the angel. Their lust for justice became cruel as no slight or misdemeanor went unpunished. They lost what it was to be human when they began caring more for justice than kindness."
The tabaxi settled in for the story; you lean in further, idly listening to the familiar story and grateful to spend time with your father.
"Our ancestors survived but did not live. Not as humans should at least. They'd traded freedom for security and lost control over their destinies and their very souls. That was until Gundrinn Spearleaf came to power. He united the four clans and found that through cooperation, humans could rely on their most fundamental quality; their ability to adapt. He used one clan's power to break the bonds another clan's monstrosity and placed. Although, they no longer had their powers, our ancestors leaned upon their new friends and made the land no others could survive their home. Gundrinn Spearleaf thus earned our people's love and became a god himself, lending his strength instead of the old masters' to our people to survive the monsters."
A tabaxi snorted, "You lie." You sit up to get a better look at the beast and glare, demanding answers to the interruption. What remained of a vulpine ear twitched as the warlock sat up and grinned. "No demon loses so easily. They may be beaten but once a people are seized they are never given up. That is how this one knows you lie." Your fists ball up and you start to stand. You can't beat him in a stand up fight, but if you can make it to the woods, he wouldn't stand a chance against your slingshot.
Dad pushes you back down and starts speaking to you specifically. "He's right. The bonds were broken but the old masters were not eager to lose the followers they had on this new world." The demon-owned tabaxi's smile vanished, expecting a fight rather than an explanation. He sits forward and listens. "Gods can be made in this world if enough people believe in them. Losing followers makes them lose power. Even the Angel of Contempt began campaigns to retrieve their lost strength. Gundrinn Spearleaf was once a man such as we, but liberating our people gave him our devotion and made him a god. He saw the tenacity the four old masters were hunting their lost flock with and understood the nation he had forged, the people he had saved, would never be able to pursue our Glories with our freedom coveted so.
He approached each of the old masters, promising each of them his life and power if they were to leave our people alone. The fiends were eager for the proposal; the power of mortals compared to the power of a god was too enticing for them to pass up. Gundrinn demanded a piece of the master's power, a token that bound the master to him as much as Gundrinn was bound to them as well. He forged these pieces into his four God-killers. Wearing all four pieces, he encased himself in ice atop the highest peak of the Icebreaks so he could not be used by his new lords. To reclaim the token they had given, each old master now vies for Gundrinn's soul, warring with the other masters in a contest for such power. This keeps their eyes towards the peaks rather than the people, saving us from our ancestor's blunder."
"That is why you wake up too early and murmur your words," another tabaxi asked in a hushed tone.
"Yes, we pray so that Gundrinn may stay a god and have only one human's soul tormented for the mistakes our ancestors made. To this day, he sits in his eternal tomb in the Icebreaks, bearing our burden and reminding us that we are survivors and to lean on and learn from our neighbors."
Yet again the soul-damned cat spoke. "How do you not know this Gundrinn craves power just as much as these old masters, hmm? If he is a god as they, he must enjoy his power too."
Dad looks at the ground, not roaring at this outsider's irreverence. He just looks up, nods, and says, "That is why we don't free him."