The World — Prologue.
On a spinning ball of rock orbiting a spinning ball of fire in an endless sea of stars and unknowable galaxy, each of the four elements find their home. Earth, water, fire, and air ruled this lumpy orb until something curious sprouted.
On this baren wasteland, this blank canvas where nothing took breath, there was life. A small tree at the center of this plane. And as this rock kept spinning, the tree kept growing, and growing, and growing, until its leaves touched the clouds, gathering their moisture.
The tree was alone. Big, and alone. She felt that with a life as long as hers, she should have company. She made plants. From the rock grew grass, from the grass grew flowers, and shrubs, and more trees—though none could have compared to the enormous presence of her.
Plants dominated as this plane spun, until the tree found that things did not decay fast enough for new life to grow. Soil became scarce, young plants withered before maturity. To fix this, the tree made animals. Beings to manage the overwhelming population of flora.
Animals ate the vast amount of plants, paving the way for new life and caring for the exhausted soil. Flora and fauna coexisted for a long time, until the population of animals became too much for the ground to bear.
The plants were going at an alarming rate, and there wasn't enough to go around. Predators ruled the lands, growing lazy, because they knew there would always be enough food. There was no competition for them, no rush to eat the rising numbers of prey.
The tree knew she, yet again, had to do something. She made communities. Humans, Dwarves, Orcs, Elves, and more intelligent life littered the surface. The population of predators and prey began to decrease to a manageable size, plants began to re-grow, and life settled into a harmonious balance.
She could then rest.