Resting in a small chest set on a pedestal kept in a room populated with various artifacts lay two spheres that could fit both hands. One, glowing a brilliant blue-white, as a flame. The other darker than the blackest night.
God of Strength in the Night, Hiding your Numbers, and The Silent Kill.
A basin type hole in the middle of the plains. Once every so many years the rains come very hard and flood this place. Maybe that is where the tribes congregate for their tribal meetings.