Ye Are Gods (Sign-up and OOC)

[Naga The Serpent]

Spoiler: Moon Goddess

Sahira
Goddess of the Moon, Fate, and Cycles; The Bringer of Respite; Providential Mistress​

Gender: Female

Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Personality: In the early days, there was only heat. The Sun’s heat constantly poured upon all of civilization, flooding it, making all barren and dry. Life could never grow strong from these conditions. Pain and agony is all anything knew. It was from these conditions that Sahira sprouted from. Despite all of this, there was one place the Sun couldn’t reach. It was an oasis in this desert of heat and it was from this oasis that the Moon rose. The Moon would be the one to contain the Sun, the one to end the pain.

The Moon would chase after the Sun. It would bring a period of coolness and respite for those who exist. It is an eternal chase, the Moon forever trying to contain the Sun. It is because of this chase that the safe oasis from which the Moon emerged from was discovered by the Sun and it now feels the sun’s rays. To symbolize that the Moon still blessed this land, it tore a piece of itself off and placed it upon the land.

The 'Ahl Alqamar people, believe that they currently live upon that piece of the Moon. Their land is not of this world, but a piece of the Moon Goddess. For that alone, this is believed by them to be the most sacred ground of them all. To the unknowing, they would assume that a desert would be a horrible place for a Goddess to leave her people. However, the rivers in this region create floodplains that are some of the most fertile grounds in the world. People follow the Moon phases to track the floods and agriculture.

Before Azahiel’s Fall, Sahira spoke to him, warning him of what was to come. She alone knew what was to happen to him. Sahira saw him being overthrown by the rest, but the arrogant fool did not head her warning. She cursed his ignorance and began to await the day his Fate would be confirmed. Nothing escapes her eyes in the end. Since she was ignored, she would take up a role in the The War, providing support with her clairvoyant abilities.

At least, this is what the myths say.

Truth be told, Sahira is actually fairly fickle, arrogant, and incredibly stubborn. Using her knowledge of Fate to tease and instigate the others is completely normal for her, though, she tries her best to not have particularly foul relationships with most of the Gods. After all, what is the point of causing serious divisions over small and “harmless” jokes. Actual serious conflict is something she claims herself to be “unsuited” for, but her ability to support and provide aid is crucial in any real skirmish between gods. Her other excuse is that a Goddess of Fate joining a side would make things unbalanced.

Still, convincing her to play a role in something like that could prove to be a challenge. The real reason she partook in Azahiel’s Fall is because he ignored her warning and joined up against him out of spite. Sahira is still somewhat annoyed by his actions, but she still tries her best to be somewhat cordial to him. Well, as cordial a relationship with Azahiel could truly be. While she does have a dedicated list of gods she prefers interacting with and an “ignore” list , the only deity she truly has problems with is, as expected, Shahrivar.

The bastard who made the world too hot and ignored her. Her end goal is to get him stripped of everything and cast aside to oblivion. Seeing the fate of Amenti, Sahira spends her spare time questioning the Death Goddess and searching for the Km. Considering the repercussions for getting rid of the Sun are immense, she purposely avoids looking towards that type of Fate. His demise is the one thing that may take precedence over her responsibilities.

Of course, he doesn’t seem to actually notice this hostility she holds for him and seems to think they’re friends. . .

Opinion of Mortals: They are to be pitied, but never coddled. Life is very hard for them and while blessings should be given, a god can’t hold their hand. They create their own messes and they should be the ones to fix them in the end.

God’s Domain: A dark labyrinth with the only source of light being Sahira herself. A shining beacon to the dim realm. It is a labyrinth rumored to be impossible to navigate and while it is difficult, that isn’t exactly true. The labyrinth can only truly be navigated by those who are fated to accomplish something there. If they were fated to meet with Sahira, then the labyrinth would feel easy. If they had entered this realm uninvited, they will simply be trapped forever.

Or until Sahira finds them.

Residents of the realm are handpicked by Sahira after their death and act as her messengers. As they live here, navigating the realm is much simpler, mostly because they only do as they are fated to do. As that is the case, the labyrinth puts up little to no resistance.

Spoiler: Zia ul Qamar (Avatar)

The Moon Princess ​

Personality: Despite being the avatar of Sahira, Zia doesn’t really act like her. While Sahira is fickle and spiteful, Zia is very understanding and forgiving. As the avatar of the Bringer of Respite, she sees herself as the person who must bring the world periods of peace. While she knows some kind of eternal peace is impossible, she will fight to ensure that the world knows some periods of peace.

Despite loving and cherishing Sahira, Zia can’t understand why she does what she does. Her fickle nature and her desire to rival with Shahrivar is something lost on Zia. Why not work with the other gods to get rid of evil? Zia knows that answer to this of course, for it is Sahira’s job to bring momentary peace and stability. Anything beyond that would be outside of her realm, thus, she isn’t doing it.

At least, this is how Zia rationalizes her mistress.

She is a traveler and frequently visits other kingdoms. She is fascinated by the culture of others and tries her best to research them. Her current attire was acquired in another kingdom, though it is completely impractical considering the deserts of Wadi al-Qamar. She hopes that all cultures will be able to live in peace on day, though of course, she still needs to make sure her own people can find peace with the people of the Sun.

Magic Abilities: Borrowing from her goddess, Zia’s magic mostly deals with the manipulation of fate. This is usually limited to nudging things in a certain direction or “confirming” one outcome over the other. Unfortunately, she can only work with realistic or possible outcomes. As sad as it is, it isn’t within her abilities to turn 0 into 1. Outside of her manipulation of Fate, she is actually very proficient in Healing. As the Moon provides shelter and respite for the night, she can provide healing for those who are injured. Seeing as she is the avatar of the Moon, she actually can’t be affected by the heat of the sun, which is ultimately why she can get away with her attire. Like Sahira, she is at her best when she is working from a supporting position.

Despite that, considering her upbringing as someone from Wadi al-Qamar, she is actually very skilled with a Scimitar, a bow, and at horse riding.

Spoiler: Nur (Hero)

High Priestess and the True Leader of Wadi al-Qamar
​

Personality: Unlike Zia, Nur's personality is very similar to Sahira. Despite having a king and an avatar, Wadi al-Qamar is mostly run by a council of High Priests/Priestesses. Even though it is meant to be held by a council, Nur has used her influence and political tact to effectively size control over the entire council. This has caused her to become the person pulling the strings behind the entire nation, well, up until Zia decides to interfere.

She is a zealot in her faith and wants to bring the whole world under Sahira’s love, but Zia seems to keep her from causing any actual war. As she realized pretty quickly that Zia wouldn’t allow for her to spread Sahira’s grace through the sword, she has been funding missionaries to get other regions of the world to place Sahira above the other gods. Zur also plans to one day usurp Zia as Sahira’s Avatar, but that is in the far future. For now, she will do her best to acquire Sahira’s favor by hating the Sun and proselytizing.

Spoiler: Wadi al-Qamar (Kingdom)

Terrain Preference: Deserts and Mountains

Capital: Ubar

Major Cities: Erum, Jabulsa, Zerzura

Society: The 'Ahl Alqamar, the people who claim their creation from Sahira herself, have a wide ranging complexion, though, they tend to be born fairly pale and become darker over time. The wealthy can usually avoid this, but it isn’t a guarantee. Originally a nomadic warring people, once they were all united by the glory of Sahira, they began to live fairly normal lives. Still, with a nomadic heritage, the horse makes up a central role in their culture. Their military is still filled with horse archers, though they also seem quite skilled in the use of curved swords. Within the past few centuries or so, the people have figured out how to tame Elephants and now occasionally use them in times of war.

The ‘Ahl Alqamar acknowledge the existence and importance of the other gods, but their society is very much a Henotheistic one. They respect and occasionally pay tribute to the rest of the pantheon when they need to, but they’re almost all mostly devoted to Sahira. It was the love and worship of Sahira that bound these people together. It is she who will give them all the blessings they should ever need. However, because Wadi al-Qamar is a heavy trading nation, major cities have a section of town with shrines and temples to the rest of the gods. Even shrines to Shahrivar are present, even if he takes an antagonistic role to the beliefs of the ‘Ahl Alqamar. These shrines are of noticeably lesser quality than those of other gods.

Treatment of the dead is highly important to the 'Ahl Alqamar and they have specific rituals for the dead. To begin with, they clean the bodies using water obtained from the Oasis they believed Sahira emerged from, which is located in the capital of Erum. Once the body has been cleaned, a priest is to bless the body so that Sahira will acknowledge their departure from her land. After the the prayers, a shroud is placed over the body and the body is placed into a coffin. The position of the body is very important, for it must be pointing towards the Sacred Oasis. During the funeral, as the coffin is lowered into the dunes, those in attendance must handfuls of sand upon the coffin, chanting a prayer. This prayer is more or less about how they were born from this part of the moon, and now they are to return into it.

The merchants of the ‘Ahl Alqamar are well renowned for their goods, mostly types of fruits, incenses, and spices. While their goods are praised as some of the greatest on the planet, they’re actually far from the highest of quality they produce. Their greatest secret is Coffee plant, which while having an okay fruit, is truly harvested for the plant’s seeds. These seeds create a heavenly drink, which is believed to have been created by Sahira. It is blessed drink often used in morning rituals to empower people against the Sun. It is also frequently used late at night, as it also allows one to become closer to the Moon and stay in its’ embrace for longer periods of time. It is the most closely guarded secret of the ‘Ahl Alqamar.

Politically, Wadi al-Qamar technically has a monarchy, ruled by the Shahraan Dynasty for as long as they can remember. However, in practice, almost everything is decided by the priests and priestesses. The nation is split into local cities in which local priests and priestesses decide things. Above them are 6 high priests and 6 high priestesses who passed the ritual to be selected by Sahira and monitor the local priests and priestesses, with one head figure making sure the council runs accordingly. Finally, above all of them is Zia ul Qamar, the true leader of Wadi al-Qamar. Despite being the real leader of the nation, she is fairly hands off and lets the council decide things, which means Nur is the real leader. She only ever really steps in for moderation or when she feels she has to interfere. The ‘Ahl Alqamar hate the people of the sun with a passion and constantly want to war with them, but are ultimately held back by Zia ul Qamar

Economically, the nation of Wadi al-Qamar is wealthy as a whole, though those on the outskirts of major hubs are much less so. The wealth of the elite ‘Ahl Alqamar are the envy of other nations, as their ability to spend rivals only a few. Their lavish palaces and world renowned parties draw visitors from all over. The “Princes of Wadi al-Qamar” has become an expression signifying wealth that has spread globally.

 

[GrailKnight]

Character Sheet


God

God Name: Haddock
Title: God of Sleep, Lord of the Poppy, Host to the Fae Courts, Master of the Dream World
Gender: Male
Alignment: Neutral
Personality: Capricious, moody, and often prone to shifting obsessions with the spinning of the stars overhead, Haddock is as volatile, mysterious, and all at once removed as any dream might be. Ever does he seem a man in the grip of poppy sleep, a vast imagination and vibrant mind clouded with dream-like euphoria.
Opinion of mortals: Mortals spend half their lives in slumber, and so they are His for all that time. They are his people just as much as any other god's, and is friend to the waking folk.
God’s Domain: The Realm of Dreams. When the will of creation gave rise to the first of the gods, and through them formed the cosmos, so too did the dreams of gods and their mortal races begin to coalesce with those of a vibrant and eager creation. Haddock, young and already too late to stake claim to the wonders his fellows had fashioned into being, instead turned to this sprawling, formless, and indefinite space of wonder and terror. Here he was free to shape and create to his heart's content, his moods and whims giving shape and form to the dreams of god and mortal.

It was here that Haddock chose to reside when war became inevitable between his kinsmen, not wishing to deprive mortal or god from their reprieve into the land of slumber in the midst of such chaos. But alas, so great and divine a conflict could not be contained to the waking world alone. It was here, that the nascent and primal nightmares of mortal races soon took new and terrible forms. The destruction and wanton slaughter which can only be in war of god and mortal brought with it inspiration to the dark and fearful minds of mortal beings. Soon, masses of monstrous and vile creatures began to spew from dense and writhing forests of primordial darkness. Lord though he was within the realm of dreams, even Haddock could not defend the dreamers alone. So he took hold of the flighty and fantastical thoughts and passions of the mortal races to form his own peoples: The Fae.

Beautiful and mysterious as himself, with the wild passions and dark mischief, the fae would be his bannermen and warriors in combat against the cantankerous and frumious whatsits and whytherefores of the ever growing sprawl of gnarled trees, massive mushrooms, and backwards being. To lead his newfound companions, Haddock forged from the very essence of dream and thought the Vorpal Blade. A sword of gleaming silver and mesmerizing beauty, which could cut through the newfound shape of nightmares, banishing those dark and terrible thoughts back where they should lie. For despite all his power, the Lord of Poppies new that such things could never be destroyed, merely returned to the shapeless muck from which they spawned. At last, with the war in the waking world come to close, and the gods once again (more or less) in harmony, his own realm returned to its peaceful and wonder-like beauty.

Yet, it would forever be changed. Ever a realm easy to enter though sleep and the waking dreams of sacred poppies and lotus (among various other substances), the newly established Fae Courts now resided upon the border to the waking world and its wild places, where mortals dreamt of strange and curious somethings. They were bulwark in defense of the Dream Cities of mortal and god, where those who slumbered would shed their earthly bodies to live anew in the land of Haddock the Dreamer. Past the vast cityscapes, great sorcerous towers, emerald rivers, and fields of poppies lied the dark and wild places of dream and thought: the Yonderland. Here were nightmares and wild fantasies ever bred and spread beyond the sight of most, save those who dared to walk its wondrous trails and backwoods. Never wholly vile, here could be found the untamed and boundless imagination of creation itself. Lastly, with the first death of a god, and the first queen of the underworld, came rise to the gloomy and mist-haunted plains of solace. It is here that those dreamers who die in the lull of sleep must walk, one last time through the fantastic world of dreams into their grim afterlife.

Avatar Name: The Prince of Cups, The Lotus Eater
Avatar Appearance: A swarthy satyr, adorned with a crown of lotus feathers and laden with bags and barrels full of intoxicants. He carries a silver chalice etched with poppies and owls.
Personality: Jovial, mischievous, and eager to share the bounty of Haddock with those who dare partake.
Magic Abilities: With him he carries the Cup of Dreams, a common motif in the mysteries of Haddock, filled to the brim with the milk of poppies and leaves of lotus. To sup from the cup shall bring visions fantastic and mind shattering, depending on the mind of the supplicant. Some have been known to die of fright or despair from the things they have witnessed. Its fumes brings the mind into a waking dream, where one might leave behind the body to enter the Realm of Dreams as their waking selves. There they might explore the beauties of Haddock's kingdom, and from there perhaps seek audience with the Lord of Sleep. A more daring mortal might seek to brave the Yonderland to find the very heart of creative will which spawns monsters and beauties alike, or the planes of Solace to enter the realm of Death as a living creature.

Hero(es): The Youth
Rank/Reason: Keeper of the Vorpal Blade, Bravest in the Yonderland, Bane of Nightmares
Personality: The youth is not a specific individual, rather a concept and dream figure which ever rises to meet the horrors of nightmare both dreaming and waking worlds. They are valorous, anxious, and live a life of hardship leading to the ultimate test of heroism and virtue. There and then shall the youth be granted the Vorpal Blade, and clad in armor the likes of which might only be dreamed. From there they shall go forth to do battle with the foul and night-haunted things of the realms. When they fall or their task completed, the blade once again returns to the side of Haddock, who will wait for another to wield it.

Terrain Preference: The vistas of the dream world are as divergent and wondrous as the creatures and peoples that inhabit it. From metropolitan splendor, to the deep and writhing gloom of darkened forests, those who live their sleeping life find themselves in a world both familiar and fantastic.



Name of Kingdom/Empire: None

Other: As one might expect, the God of Sleep does not have a nation dedicated to his mysteries within the waking world. He already has the land of dreams and thoughts to govern. Instead, small cults and solitary priests contemplate his mysteries in individual temples and shrines within communities across various nations. They partake of the poppy and the lotus flowers, their milks and dusts creating the euphoric and psychadelic hallucinations over which their chosen god alone holds domain. For sleep and the waking dreams of these plants and their kin are ever potent, and not to be undertaken lightly. It is said that in such states they might be gifted visions from Haddock the Dreamer, and may often act as oracles for those outside the faith.

 

[ConvexAtaraxia]

Spoiler: God

Spoiler: God's Tongue

Name: Pestocali, Bullion Lord

Concepts: Cooking, Restoration, Fertility

Gender: Male

Alignment: True Neutral

Spoiler: Personality

An existence that simply adores life, but beyond that, adores life for the sake of maintaining life. While originally born with the moniker of a fertility god and only going on to acquire distinct purviews later in his existence, those secondary purviews have become the primary. More than considering himself a god of fertility, he is a god of cooking.

He does not consider himself a mighty god. His pride as a divinity is nothing more than a byproduct and offshoot of his true beliefs, a plan of healing that he forever seeks to bring into fruition. It is a foolish plan, a plan that has no place in this world and that can surely not save anyone, that cannot save a world.

However, due to his weakness, he struggles. By that struggling and by that persistence of his vision, by that heartfelt desire to save lives and to foster the conditions for bringing about greater life, he is an absurdity who discovered a new culture and 'world'. A world that a majority of sapient life has visited, sat within, and tasted of. Something that survives to this day, beyond simple fertility rituals.

And so, he continues on. Food as a preserver of life. Food as a maintainer of life. Food as a creator of life. Food as 'something beautiful'.

In pursuit of that life and beauty, he continues on, bearing that eternal smile.

"Have a seat. I recommend the tasting menu."

Spoiler: History

Pestocali first came into existence with life, a primordial god born of the concept of fertility. He existed, he maintained his concept, but that was all. He granted beasts and men the ability to copulate, he oversaw the expansion of population, he blessed the harvests and ensured that crops were bountiful. There was no will, there was merely action, the vague motions of a machine being.

There was no soul, no true will, but he was happy. There was nothing lacking in his life.

But, sometimes, there was something else. Sometimes there was a feeling that rose up. In those moments, he felt his existence grow weak, the world spinning around him for the briefest moments. Then, it all returned to normal.

Then, one day, man brought fire and food together, and something utterly new was born. A new practice, a new science, a new world. That fledgeling field of cooking was inducted into that empty god, the most suitable to receive that nature, and so everything changed.

In those early days, medicine and culinary knowledge was barely distinguished. Even in the current time, what is called medicine is mostly nutrition. And so, restoration came with the culinary arts.

Digestion is, indeed, a miracle. Through digestion hay could turn into horses, rats into cats, and food into humans. Life needed restoratives, restaurants. Meat that boiled for hours, compressing all their restorative potential into bullion. This bullion would then be consumed as a soup. Built around this product and on the concept that every patient had their own medicine, restaurants were built.

Menus served as a guides letting each patient know what restoratives were on offer, separate tables were prepared for each person so they would be undisturbed in their treatment, and most important the freedom of choosing one’s own dish for you knew best of what would cure you.

And so, he knew glee. He knew happiness. He knew purpose. For the first time, he had something to aspire towards, something to work after, something to seek. He knew happiness, and so too did he know sorrow and anger. A life snuffed out, a life without joy, a life without cuisine, these things were tragic. For those races who knew not of the culinary arts, he sought to enlighten them. For those races who rejected his guiding word, whether due to their own will or their mere biology, he resigned himself to opposition.

Among those, one race took precedence as an enemy. Beings who knew not sustenance, sunlight, or slumber, not merely those who had once drank of bullion and had lost those bodies, but those who had never once tasted. Beings who, themselves, fell from the standing of 'lifeforms' to 'ingredients' in his eyes. These were, of course, the Collective, being who knew no cuisine and who were the design of a god of rot.

When the wars between gods broke out, he was initially indifferent, but before long, that burgeoning disdain came to a peak, and so the rising god took up arms with Azahiel not due to any view of his own ideals, but simply to combat Lravitus and the Collective that followed him, the antithesis to his art.

The impact he generated within that war was ultimately the splash of a stone in a pond, however, as one would expect. While the foremost 'healer' among the gods, it was a side role that kept the false king from death, rather than a main role that took some glorious victory.

And so...

Spoiler: Opinion of Mortals

Spoiler: General

Genuine adoration. His stance upon the life that walks the world should be apparent.

Spoiler: Worship

While rather universally worshipped, it is much more so as a secondary god who exists in the background. The practices of cooking, healing, procreation, and harvest are rather omnipresent independent of culture, but those thoughts rarely enter one's head specifically. As one would expect, he is most worshipped among those who seek children, those who call themselves gourmands, and those who are injured.

His greatest 'claim to fame' in a truly genuine scale would be his worship among those who pursue those fledgeling medical studies that have taken form in this world, and among those of more agrarian states who seek to have their harvests blessed.

Spoiler: Races

Humans/Giants: The most beloved among the races, and those who most uphold the doctrine of the culinary arts. He feels sorrow for the degenerated great race of the giants in particular, and has taken many of them under his wing, saving them from their descent into monsters.

Undead: While rather neutral on them, he does not carry any particular disdain; rather, his view of them is closer to pity, as they are beings who were once within his 'world' who are no longer.

Collective: The sole race he feels disdain for. Beings that know not of cooking.

Fae: Fond of the Fae Kind, and considers them a point of fascination. He is known to send his heroes into the Fae Wilds for what he calls an 'expert cooking course'.

Spoiler: God's Domain

The Restaurant.

Simply called by that name, it is a grand establishment which most exhibits Pestocali's nature. A bustling land filled with life, different 'spaces' bearing different themes and decors, a thousand restaurants all held under a single roof. It is a place of health and restoration- to most, it does not harm, but rather nourishes. Naturally, its lord as the god of restoration can be said to be all but undying with this space.

A neutral space among the divines where others may seek protection and sustenance, a hallowed hall of simple happiness. Deals with both the lord of the underworld and the lord of the dreamlands have been brokered, and so, the spirits of great chefs and the brilliant ingredients of the Fae Wilds both have their place in this land. Here, the food and drink of the gods is made manifest, what some would call ambrosia and nectar that surpasses all mortal cuisine. The waiters are, of course, fragments of his own existence, such that the experience is solely driven by the food.

On occasions, it is used as a place for celebration among the divines, and the occasional challenges made to his Avatar find themselves ultimately settled here.

Any can place their name on the waitlist to enter, and there is no discrimination or preferencing. However, due to this, the waitlist's length is absurdly high.

...it is said that one must never enter the kitchen during service, for that will reveal a Pestocali who has never been witnessed.

Spoiler: Nation

Name of Nation: Boulanger Isles

Location: Islands dotting the sea between Eudaimon, Nova Yoro, and Atlalantae.

Capital: Mathurin

Major Cities: Roze, Chantoiseau

Society: One could most simply call this a 'cooking technocracy'. The society is overseen by an academic elite focused at colleges for the culinary arts and medical practice.
While small both in territory and population, the nation itself is the predominant center for medical knowledge, the unquestioned world leader in cuisine, and a producer of crops far beyond what should be achievable given its surface area, which leads to rather heavy foot traffic from nonresidents. It is something of a nexus point for all manner of things.
The military force is a more recent creation, synthesizing the domains of restoration and cooking in order to create 'elite chefs' who utilize anatomical knowledge, cooking techniques, and the like as a training method for combat. Indeed, the majority of licensed chefs in the world have trained at these isles at some point in their life, and thus are not to be underestimated.
Outside of the cooking elite, the land is predominantly populated by farmers, drawing on the evolutions in fertility (harvest) in order to create consistent bumper crops.
The most notable indigenous fauna of the island are sacred beasts of Pestocali, boars that bear a divine right of seeking out culinary ingredients- one might compare them to truffle hogs for a convenient parallel. They descend from Pestocali's personal divine beast, a great boar who roams the islands- while once seen as a walking calamity, people are wise enough to avoid it nowadays, and so it is left in peace, occasionally rearranging the topography as it searches for food.

Spoiler: Avatar

​

Spoiler: Sera, Master Chef, Da Capo, Harvest-Bringer

Spoiler: Mind

A cynical Fae with an acerbic wit and a minor sadistic streak. To Sera, one's value as a person is delineated by the sort of impression they make upon others. However, at the same time, Sera consciously makes an effort to not give the first impression any sort of precedence; rather, she is in a constant state of evaluating and re-evaluating anyone and everyone around her. While this ordinarily takes the form of her denouncing the actions of others, this is simply because her standards are absurdly high, to the point where even Sera herself rarely meets them, which results in her scolding others for failing to scold her. She ceaselessly berates the lazy, berating anything within her sight that she sees as an affront to her god.

In truth, Sera's ideology is based off of a set of a priori standards that she applies to all aspects of life. In her eyes, something has "failed" when it does not meet those standards, and nothing is exempt from being required to meet those standards. She can be called an absolutist of the highest order, someone who considers these standards inviolable, but at the same time is rarely thought of as a tyrant due to the nature of her standards.

Do not lose sight of why you act, and become trapped in that set way of acting. Do not disrespect others without due cause. Forgetfulness is spawned from carelessness; if you are a forgetful person, then work hard to overcome that weakness. Do not settle for something; strive to be your ideal person. Do not give up when there are others depending on you.

Each of her standards is fostered from an innate love of people and an innate belief in mortal potential. At her core, she is one dedicated to her god's cause with a soft hand that is surprising to those who have only been on the receiving end of her rather infamous verbal tirades. Elena truly finds mortals to be wonderful things, and her standards are her way of driving people to be the best that they can be. Of course, the number of living beings who understand this ideal to the core are few, even among those she calls allies. Thus, she often takes a role best summed up as "encouragingly sadistic", given that she takes joy in correcting others in a joyfully crude manner. Of course, it would be a lie to say that she didn't also happen to scold or denigrate others just for the hell of it, at times.

Spoiler: Body

The war between gods had ended. Time went on. Pestocali was still joyful, but he was weak, that weakness having been demonstrated to him with startling clarity.

This was changed not by a god, but by a Fae, a child who knew not of the world, who had stumbled into the material plane from the Fae Wilds. Seeing herself as a peerless genius, she made a declaration- she challenged Pestocali in the art of cuisine.

He laughed. He laughed at the foolishness of this child, and so he accepted.

And not in the god wars, but here- this was where Pestocali first knew fear.

The Fae brought forth all sort of wondrous things, plucked from the Fae Wilds. Crops with impossible geometries, the meats of illogical beasts, absurdities that none but the lord of dreams himself could claim familiarity with. Even Pestocali was taken aback. Her knife skills had a polish and speed to them that even he struggled to surpass, her ability to compose a dish, her imagination, her sheer talent were all beyond what he had thought possible.

However, he did not falter.

For seven days and nights, the two battled. This was not a battle of spear and bow, but of knife and skillet.

A god is a being based around a concept, and so he continued forwards. With mundane meat, vegetable, and grain, he surpassed his own limits as a god.

At the end of those seven nights, that child was defeated, and so the two formed a contract. One who would walk beside him, both as a subordinate and as a friend. The bargain of an Avatar was struck, and with this new fire, he advanced. The design of combat techniques, the expansion of medical knowledge and healing blessings, the basics for guaranteeing fertility in both man and crop. For, fundamentally, all of Pestocali's concepts were themselves things that mortals could learn of, drink from, and acquire in their own right- the girl who had nearly been his match had shown him that much.

From the god, that Fae gained new power, divine rights that elevated her existence. From the Fae, the god witnessed those very divine rights be wielded in ways that he had never imagined. The Fae grew into a living legend. The god developed his nature. The founding of the Boulanger Isles' combatant corps, the design of the great training facility known as the 'Food Pyramid', the evolution of medical and agrarian science, all of these things were not due to either one of them, but due to the pair, eternally moving forwards.

And so, they move forwards, they grow.

The chef's knife grows sharper by the day.

Spoiler: Soul

While Pestocali himself is a god of utility, of indirectness and support, his Avatar is a freak of nature who has developed the shard of his authority to a degree that the Bullion Lord himself could never have thought possible.

Sera is most known for her cooking talent, the world's premier chef who only bears inferiority compared to her god. However, she is one whose nature beautifully synergizes with Pestocali's own, and so, her learned nature in such fields as medicine and agrarianism can be considered at the pinnacle- if asked, Pestocali admits that, were divine and magical ability removed from the equation, she would be a more effective bringer of healing, fertility, and harvest than he.

However, the area where she has overturned the nature of her god is, undoubtedly, combat. Her biology as a Fae bestows her with a hardiness of life and a bodily might beyond most races, a 'non-Euclidean geometry' to the form of her life. Beyond that, she is the developer of the techniques of a 'Cooking Knight', a combat style which views the enemy as 'an ingredient to be be broken down', using a synthesis of cooking technique and anatomical knowledge to best the enemy. It is a combat aptitude that plays utterly to her own strengths, and after having been honed through the ages, she is a warrior who surpasses what Pestocali believed possible for his followers. It is thanks to her that he was inspired to form a similar corps among those who followed him.

These are merely the results of Sera's own existence, though. As an Avatar, gifted with a fragment of her god, she has gained a form of divine right through him, wielding his own concepts. From fertility, such abilities as the aptitude to bless a person or place- couples will conceive children, a field will be bountiful with crops, and the like. This aptitude has gradually taken root across the Boulanger Isles, in tandem with their own technological advancement. From cooking, an amplification of her own raw talent, and the inherent ability to understand a substance before her and its basic properties. From restoration, the divine right to restore a substance or state of affairs, 'rewinding' it to a prior state or state of affairs, for instance repairing a broken object or healing injuries.

It would not be an exaggeration to call her the Avatar who has most strayed from their god, though this is meant in a wholly positive regard.

Spoiler: Heroes

Spoiler: Igris Vier

Rank: Executive Chef

Personality: An ostentatious, brash man who considers himself on the cutting edge of cooking. In terms of conversation, he is loudmouthed, and overbearing, utilizing an unjustly commanding tone as if it were natural and seeing others as sidekicks and minor characters on his stage. He is an innovator through and through- a true exemplification of the eccentricity inherent to any sufficiently-advanced genius, and while many of his creations have resulted in catastrophic damage, equally as many have created wondrous things that have left even Pestocali impressed.
Among the residents of the Boulanger Isles, he is renowned as something of a walking hazard. Should he enter a city recreationally, it is not uncommon for every door in town to bolt shut out of fear. However, when incidents reach a certain scale, he is the first one called on to aid the populace, sometimes even before Sera herself.

Capabilities: A madman and inventor. In cuisine, medicinal technology, agrarian sciences, and so on, he has developed many of the isles' advancements. As a combatant, he is a freak of nature who utilizes all manner of magical and mundane items to bring an ever-changing assault down on the enemy, a means of assault that is every bit as suicidal as it is effective. His mindset is simply that 'as I am not strong, I must simply create what is strong'.
While not the most 'powerful' of Pestocali's followers, he is 'the one who is most troublesome to fight', even beyond Sera herself. The level of preparation taken when devoting himself to a task, the absurdity of his resources and creations, and the like are enough to where an objectively superior opponent might find themselves unwittingly pulled into an elaborate double-suicide. Rather than combatting him, it is common sense to simply avoid him.

Spoiler: Giam Incuib

Rank: Executive Chef

Personality: A simpleminded, dedicated existence. Social intelligence: nil. Emotional intelligence: nil. Academic intelligence: nil. Practical intelligence: nil. He is an abnormality, a 'hole in the world' with a hyperactive personality narrowed down to a single point. At his core, he is 'innocent', a pure being whose inner world does not contain cruelty, even if his actions can often result in suffering. A true freak of nature with an alien mindset- he follows Pestocali not due to worship, but due to obsession.

Capabilities: After Sera, he is known as the most capable combatant to emerge from the Boulanger Isles. A true obsessive freak with a single focus, whose talent with the spatula has transcended the mundane realm with nothing more than sheer skill. By 'practicing a single kick one thousand times', he has outstripped those who have 'practiced a thousand kicks once'. A hermit with a distorted mind. Pestocali has admitted that, out of the mortals he has witnessed, Giam is the one who is 'the closest to a god', though this is a statement of his nature and not of his power.

Spoiler: Khren

Rank: Sous Chef

Personality: On first glance, a crude man, a stereotype of the degenerated giant race. One might compare him to a synthesis of Ignis and Giam at first glance, a brash oaf without a shred of social competence. This could be nothing further from the truth- that crude nature belies a kind heart, and just as much as Sera, he is viewed as a local hero and a champion of the people. He cares for his race and those others under his god's domain, and views Pestocali as a sort of father figure and patron saint who has saved his race.

Capabilities: The giants were once a terrifyingly powerful race, but with the death of their lord, degenerated into mere monsters. Pestocali, feeling grief for this, turned his blessings towards them, restoring them to what of their former glory he could recover. Khren is one such example, a degenerated giant who has been restored. Simply due to his nature as a giant, he is an absolute terror on the battlefield through his strength, hardiness, innate regenerative capacity, and so on. When coupled with the restorative blessings he wields, he is a mighty attrition fighter.
However, he is not a combatant at his core, and has actually not completed the final floor of the Food Pyramid such that he can be crowned Executive Chef at this time. Rather, his actual talents lie in the space of healing- he is a renowned healer and an expert on medicine only matched by Sera herself. His talent in medicine certainly surpasses his talent in cuisine and combat, though he is taking aims to remedy this.

 

[FriedCFour]

God

God Name: War
Gender: Male
Alignment: Chaotic Evil
God Appearance:

Spoiler

Personality: War was born in the first battle of nations that man ever participated in. On a field strewn with corpses, blood, bone, and tools of war pooled together, and coalesced to form a being sculpted from the carnage. This was War, and with his birth the wordless bloodshed of mortals killing one another en masse was given name.

He fell into the world of gods quickly, and immediately upon being introduced to Azahiel and the rest of the gods, struck the first blow that percipitated the war of the gods. Many saw War as a hero, a liberator who would set them free. However as the war continued it became apparent that he was little of the sort, and fought for the sake of fighting, turning on ally easily should the mood strike him or the conflict began to die down and the flames needed to be stoked.

The battle of the gods came to an end when War slew the god Amenti in battle. At the shocking revelation of the mere fact that a god could be killed, the rest of the gods quickly came to call for peace. War, however, needed to be dragged kicking and screaming into this meeting. Here, they asked War just what led him to end the life of his kin. To that, he had two simple answers. That he wanted to know if it could be done, and that what was War without a single death?

These answers shocked and disgusted the other immortals, and thus a peace was drawn, and War was forced to sign this, despite it going against his very existence. War, from his birth, was an extremely cheerful god, revelry within the carnage. Once made to adhere to peace, he became seething, boiling rage and the indignity of an end to the war of the gods.
Opinion of mortals: War holds a deep hatred for most of his fellow gods, and in regards to mortals he holds indifference to all but the strongest amongst them. Warlords, men who can lead armies, and expert warriors who can take on a dozen men and come out on top.

God’s Domain: Wars domain is an endless battlefield, the souls of those who followed him fighting and dying in an endless conflict against one another, victors rising to glory and losers being crushed beneath. War watches atop a blood soaked throne of stone, in seething, endless rage at the indignity that he himself is forbidden from participating in conflict against his fellow gods.

Avatar Name: Rhyf
Avatar Appearance: Wiry, well-muscled man often wearing well-beaten armor stripped from corpses on the battlefield.
Personality: Rhyf spends his days a wanderer, drawn to bloodshed. He often joins the ranks of forces unknown, slipping into units in disguise and unleashing hell, a whirlwind of death and destruction. If no conflict is to be had he will start it, slaughtering a village and pinning the blame on a rival. Rhyf is most often angry, fiery but in the midst of the carnage he can always be seen with a smile spread across his bloodsoaked face.
Magic Abilities: Rhyf has immense strength such that he needs not for a weapon. He most often fights with his bare hands that can shatter boulders with a single blow.

Hero(es): (One name and personality per hero; may be left blank initially as the roleplay develops)
Rank/Reason:
Personality:

Name of Kingdom/Empire: The Beast Tamers
Capital/Major Cities: None, they are nomadic pastoralists.
Society: While many a tyrant, rebellious army or Warband worships war, his most ardent and concentrated followers are found in Beast Tamers. These are wandering tribes who possess little above stone age technology beyond what they loot or, occasionally, trade for. Instead, their talents and focus have been in animal husbandry. This ranges from the common, a mastery in breeding the finest of heard animals and horses, to the highly unusual like bird masters and war pigs. If it lives, a beast tamer somewhere at some point has domesticated it and used it in combat.

The Beast Tamers are a highly divided group and spend nearly as much time as they do fighting and raiding others as they do in intertribal warfare. While nearly every beast tamer can ride a horse, tribes often specialize and are known for their particular forte. The Dog Men unleash hordes of trained canines in battle, the Vermin tribe is known for breeding and keeping hordes of rats they unleash to spread disease and cause famine before descending upon severely weakened villages, The Winged Death train eagles and other birds of prey to drop fist-sized rocks upon enemy formations, and so on.

The tribes remain disparate and decentralized, spread throughout the continent and their own lands until such time as the Wyrm Rider appears. Wyrms are great serpents created by War as a great weapon. These are giant, eyeless, serpent-like creatures that can grow to over 100 meters in length, can traverse at speeds up to 80 km/hr, and are covered in thick chitin little can pierce. It is said that any man who can tame and ride one is the king of all creation, and will quickly unite the Beast Tamers into a formidable horde. Since the god wars, the times this has happened can be counted on one hand, while the number of young men of the tribe who have died seeking these creatures out is unmeasurable.

For territory, that blank part of the southern bit.

 

[Leepysheepy]

Alright, here we go, WIP

Spoiler: Koy, the Furtive Wyrm

God Name: Koy, the Furtive Wyrm

Title: Survival, Tenacity, and Hoarding. Previously was the god of Adaptability and Tenacity.

Gender: Masculine

Alignment: Neutral Evil

God Appearance: Koy's appearance was ever-shifting in the old times, but since the war of the gods he has become more stable with changes only when he sees fit. His common form is a great wyrm, hundreds of feet in length and thicker than the eldest trees. His body is pale, and similar in general structure to a greatly elongated axolotl covered in exoskeletal plates of fur-and-feather-spotted bone and an unsettling multitude of chitinous legs, while his maw has a wide array of teeth for consuming nearly anything he can fit inside it. He was said in olden days to often take the guise of mortals and beasts, that he may walk among them, but as far as anyone is aware he has done no such thing in some time. In all forms he bears a brutal scar, from his empty left eye socket down nearly all of his side, and his right eye is fogged from millennia in the dimness of his home. Despite his tough outer shell and intimidating size his body has grown weak (by divine standards) during his isolation.

Personality: Koy is secretive and paranoid, keeping to himself when possible as he suspects all around him of conspiracy. He is in a state of constant planning and preparation which produces little meaningful results, as much of this effort is towards safeguards against imagined threats. When he is convinced he is (moderately and immediately) safe he can be quite conversational, though always guarded and never revealing much of his deeper plans and thoughts. He is easily intrigued by promises of artifacts and knowledge of great wealth and power, craving new additions to his senseless hoard of defenses and contingencies.

History: (To be filled out once I've worked out his maiming)

Opinion of mortals: In the days when the earth was young Koy found great joy among the mortals; intelligent lifeforms were avid students of his teachings, and seeing them survive and thrive in the most extreme of circumstances endeared them to him greatly. Since his mutilation his demeanor has changed, he now trusts none but the beasts born of his own blood, the Kobolds- all others are seen as potential agents of the other divinities or conspiring mortals, seeking to destroy, rob, or cripple the wyrm god further. In this light, he sees the only wise choice to be to either avoid them, or betray them before they can betray him- worshipers of Koy who are not Kobolds must always be as alert and paranoid as their god, knowing he may orchestrate their death at any moment if he deems them either a threat or simply more valuable dead; more than a few tenacious heroes have fallen to Kobolds who already knew of their approach, effectively sacrificed to their lord when he deemed their own hoards tribute. He has a great fear towards Mati the Wastrel, his own avatar and daughter, thanks to her unpredictable nature and knowledge of his defenses.

God’s Domain:

(art credit to Ankama)
The home of Koy is a grand tower in a land of eternal twilight, reaching heights that seem impossible- in fact, should one attempt to scale the tower from the outside instead of traversing its innards they would find their destination always out of reach, even if they were to climb for centuries. If one enters instead they will find the tower to be an ever-changing gauntlet of traps, puzzles, and riddles, defenses accumulated over the ages and forever expanding and shifting. Navigating the tower is a bizarre experience, sometimes you may seem to be travelling sideways or down yet find yourself ascending, while in other times you may travel upwards and find yourself back where you started; to make matters worse the floors are often locales which should in no way fit within the tower, based on the most beloved locations of the god's youth. You may climb a ladder and find yourself on an arctic ice sheet, then dive beneath it to drop into a airless cavern, then break through a wall to find yourself in the depths of a primordial jungle. There are patterns to this madness however, and those who memorize the rules of his tower (a feat achieved by Koy, his Avatar, and a select handful of his most successful heroes throughout history) may ascend in relative safety in only a few days. The most well known of these patterns is the time- the higher a level truly is, the later it becomes. At halfway up the tower the floors have reached night, past that point the stars and celestial bodies wink out of the sky until you reach the perfectly dark final level. The final level of his tower is a sanctum filled with all his hoarded power and mad notes, only one being other than Koy is known to have entered in all of time. Koy communicates with magic artifacts, never appearing in person unless the situation absolutely demands it. The tower is maintained by the spirits of kobolds, who diligently re-arm traps, keep the place clean, and even work as mechanisms in the more elaborate systems. Leaving the tower is far easier than entering; assuming you can survive the fall, jumping off gets you to the ground in just a few minutes no matter how long your ascent took.

Spoiler: Mati the Wastrel, Avatar.

Avatar Name: Mati, also known as "The Wastrel", "The Eye", or "The Severed" among other titles
Avatar Appearance: Mati takes the form of a chimeric wyrm bearing features from a variety of creatures, though she is decidedly less decrepit, disturbing, and downright massive than her "father" and god, Koy. She takes human or Kobold form at most times and walks among the mortals as her father once did, though she tends more towards personal wanderlust and challenges than assisting others. Her mortal forms are not otherwise mutable, ie every time she turns human it is into the same human, and in all mortal forms her body is fit and dotted with scars, clearly that of an experienced adventurer. She has worn a wide variety of clothing throughout the ages, but as a constant traveler she often wears clothing which is considered bizarre by local standards. Visual refs-

(art credit to Polygraf)

(art credit to Azuma Kyoutarou)

Personality: Mati is a consummate wanderer, constantly seeking new challenges and extremes to overcome and new places to experience. She is surprisingly playful and competitive, those who knew Koy before his fall would see much of his mannerisms in the girl. She occasionally acts as guide or teacher, but specifically seeks to assist, not to handle problems for others outright- she can give them a fighting chance, but the final effort must be their own. She is most fond of assisting two groups- first of these is kobolds, as she feels kinship with the creatures and they in turn have great reverence for her. The second, more troublesome, target for her capricious assistance is those who her father Koy or other divine powers have marked for death- to deny the heavens their prey is an exceptionally entertaining pastime for her. Her relationship with Koy is complex, despite defying his will and his modern ideals she upholds the old ways and assists his chosen people; their interactions are infrequent and tense but clearly neither desires the other's destruction. Each is also tight-lipped about discussing the other, so discovering their feelings on the subject is difficult.

Magic Abilities: As avatar of the god of survival and all that remains of his lost purview over adaptation Mati is quite frustratingly difficult to kill. If an injury or inconveniencing force does not kill her outright she not only makes a full and shockingly fast recovery (not wolverine "heal before your eyes" fast, but few things can keep her down for more than a few days), but also grows more well adapted to the extreme circumstances to which she was exposed. This is less effective on divine and magical threats, but over her long life she has developed nigh-total resistance towards many mundane threats such as extreme temperatures, high and low pressure, mundane diseases, poisons, and venoms, darkness, bright lights, toxic or even nonexistent atmospheres, and prolonged starvation and dehydration. While she is naturally tough and fast-healing her adaptation does not apply to simple brute force (ie she cannot "adapt" to getting stabbed in the gut), and her adaptation is also less effective on things she simply can't reliably encounter often such as natural lightning. As stated earlier she may take a smaller human or kobold form, she can visually imitate any kobold breed she encounters but in all such forms has coloration like that of her Wyrm form, usually giving away her identity.

Mundane Skills: She is a veritable encyclopedia of natural knowledge and survival tips, able to identify nearly all animals and plants within Ashariel with little difficulty along with their dangers, weaknesses, and uses. She has no supernatural combative powers other than how difficult it is to kill her, but she has thousands of years worth of mundane combat experience. She has little need for medicine herself other than to mitigate scarring, but remembers it to teach others.

Spoiler: The people of Koy

Kobolds, a Summary: The most common followers of Koy are the Kobolds, a name originally stemming from "Koy's Blood"- He created the creatures in ages long past, intended to be pioneers to the most dangerous places of the world, who could find the secrets to thriving in such locales and share them with the other races. To this end they were made rather weak, but extremely adaptable and clever. Their adaptability is their one truly mystical trait; when dropped into a location where they are poorly adapted they will change rapidly over the generations (which doesn't take long, as the short-lived creatures reach maturity in only a few years) until a new breed of kobolds begins to thrive in the new home. Thanks to this they come in staggering variation; they have been known to look like lizards, dogs, goblinoids, rodents, felines, and many other kinds of creatures and chimera, though they always have a few consistent physical traits. They are always diminutive, with the largest breeds being just under 5' on average and most ranging from 2'6" to 4', they are always roughly humanoid (bipedal, two arms two legs, occasionally a tail), rather cunning (though not exactly intellectuals or scholars- they rapidly learn and apply simple information, but usually have little idea how to work out complex mathematics and engineering), and they always mature and grow quickly. Despite their variety they have the uncanny ability to recognize each other as kobolds, and in fact are quite insulted at the implication that doing so is difficult. In the old days before the fall of Koy Kobolds were notably friendly and helpful, known for gladly sharing their secrets with travelers and working as guides, but his change has affected them greatly. They are now cagey and isolationist, and nearly all possess a depressing level of extreme pragmatism. They still associate with outsiders sometimes, and occasionally even do so without trying to rob them, but maintain a fair distance. Not all Kobolds pay worship to Koy, but those who have lost the faith are ostracized by their fellows. Some examples of Kobold breeds-

Hero: Miter, the Pupil

Rank/Reason: Current de-facto queen of Redeye. Her family line have led the elder council of Redeye for some time, having gained the favor of Koy by raising Mati.
Personality: Miter is a wise and patient woman, as one needs to be to efficiently lead the largest kobold city in the world without it descending into chaos. Thanks to the blessing of Koy her bloodline are long-lived (for kobolds), so she is rather more experienced than many other kobold leaders. Despite her calm and motherly demeanor she is as clever as any kobold, and in her youth became quite an accomplished thief and illusionist (of both the mystic and mundane varieties). She is rather protective towards Mati, seeing it as her people's and her family's duty to keep the spawn of Koy safe.

Hero(es): Thomas the Miserable

Rank/Reason: Favored lost Kobold. His clan made the cocky mistake of attempting to steal a rather powerful artifact from a mortal wizard- they were nearly all massacred by the spellcaster, but Thomas succeeded in escaping and even in offering the artifact to his god. Koy felt some part of himself touched and impressed by this tenacity and devotion, and occasionally assists the miserable little thief in small ways.
Personality: Thomas has had to become more friendly with non-kobolds for the sake of his own survival, but is overall still untrustworthy and thieving. He primarily works to assist adventurers in need of a skilled roguish sort. On his own he is rather quiet and solemn, as one might expect from someone who lost their whole family.

Hero: Joaquin the Meddler

Rank/Reason: Frustrating Champion marked for death. Joaquin is among the few and foolishly brave non-kobold worshipers of Koy- such people are often granted great boons and assistance, but are inevitably eventually led into fatal traps once their lord deems them too dangerous or just more useful dead. Joaquin, however, has survived multiple such attempts on his life from his own god- most impressively, he has done so without killing kobolds or otherwise affronting koy or forsaking his worship. In some ways he represents many of the things Koy values most in humanity, in others the god finds him endlessly infuriating.
Personality: Joaquin comes across to many as lackadaisical and cocky, but in reality is a skilled and observant man. As someone who rose up from poverty to success through searching for buried treasures and uncovering ancient artifacts he is quite the adventurer, but his cocky lazy demeanor is largely an affectation to throw others off about his true intentions.

Terrain Preference: Kobolds are, by their nature, extremely adaptable. They have preference for locales which others tend to find extremely inhospitable, so that they can have very little competition in their small niches, but some small groups stick around more conventional societies to mooch off of them (usually in sewers, abandoned sections of town, and other disused areas)

Name of Kingdom/Empire: None- Kobolds work together when they encounter each other, but have no centralized leadership between the many tribes, clans, and minor cities.

Capital: The greatest city and arguably closest to a capital the Kobolds possess is Redeye, an extensive subterranean city beneath an island volcano. They survive off of the harvesting of the exotic sea life of their deep caverns, and have surprisingly comfortable living standards. Redeye is most famed for raising Mati in her infancy, and she treats the land as her de-facto home when she is taking a break from adventuring. The tunnel systems of Redeye extend all the way to the nearest lands, but these "subterranean lowways" as the natives have dubbed them are rarely used except to steal from or spy on other nearby nations. Redeye kobolds are scaled and heavyset, with eyes that are poorly suited to bright light and great ability to survive under extreme pressures with little breathable oxygen.

Major Cities: Some other large Kobold societies (and associated kobold breeds) include: The Underhold, an abandoned necropolis decimated by war and poisoned by foul magics, now inhabited by spindly kobolds in primitive protective masks to help keep the poisonous magics at bay. Clan Gaji, a loose association of feline-like kobolds in a deadly jungle, known for being rather low on the food chain but surviving via traps and rooftop homes. Anghome, one of the exceedingly rare truly aquatic kobold societies and breeds, a small city in the depths of a sea fissure inhabited by bioluminescent kobolds who can no longer survive lower pressures nor breath out of water. The Chaf, a group of fluffy batlike kobolds living in nomadic tribes around the highest peaks of a mountain range- they are known to be comparatively friendly, working as mountain guides for pay, but are still quite rude. These are just a few examples, and most areas will have to deal with their own local kobolds thanks to the creatures being about as hard to fully exterminate as overgrown roaches- luckily for everyone else, they very rarely form large enough groups or grow bold enough to be a noteworthy threat to anyone on a country or even city scale.

Society: (what is it like to live amongst your people? Are they friendly? Hostile? (Give at least 1 paragraph worth of description) you can use the titles below for guidance).

Kobolds are extremely xenophobic, with a powerful sense of comradery between them. Because of this, and the extreme environments they frequent, seeing outsiders living alongside them is extremely rare- those who stick around and are for some reason not expelled or left behind by more nomadic groups are usually treated as social pariahs, and granted no rights or protection. Speaking of rights and protection, the core concept of Kobold morality and social structure is based around cold pragmatism- each individual is safe when the group is strong, but each individual recognizes that their own chances rise if they can take just a bit more of any given cut- because of this attempted stealing within the group is common in times both lean and bountiful (though rarely successful thanks to kobold paranoia), and is rarely explicitly illegal unless one individual steals far more than they could ever hope to use. Assaults and murders, meanwhile, are exceedingly rare and profoundly forbidden- even if one of your fellows has committed a truly unforgivable slight against you, killing them hurts your own chances for survival and that of your group too much for it to be acceptable to most kobolds. Instead, kobolds tend to work out such conflict with the formation of a Turncoat Pact- this common tradition comes under many names, but it is effectively a publicly acknowledged agreement between two kobolds that, should one see the other in peril, they will do nothing to help if there is even the barest possibility of danger in doing so. This is considered far more acceptable socially then outright killing, firstly as cowardice is seen as acceptable and even commendable among many kobold societies and secondly as it is an effectively empty threat unless these two mortal enemies somehow end up in unrelated lethal danger alone together. Such pacts are not formed lightly; forming one is a declaration of eternal enmity, and a kobold who attempted to rescind one would be seen as untrustworthy for the rest of their life.

This pragmatism extends to discussions of who is protected under or factored into law and rulership. Children and adolescents are necessary for the future, but rather unanimously stupid, and so they are protected fiercely by kobold law but given no rights beyond what their parents and elders allow. If a kobold who has not reached adulthood commits serious crime the fault is placed on their guardians, for failing to keep the youngling in check, though children who are prone to constantly endangering the group regardless of how many lessons and/or beatings they recieve have been known to be exiled. The exact line between "child" and "adult" varies in the opinion of different tribes, firstly due to cultural differences but secondly because different breeds may genuinely mature at different rates. The de-facto leaders of kobold society are the eldest members of the group, luckily for kobolds they do not suffer from dementia and similar mental degradation of age, usually because the physical ailments and rough lifestyles they practice kill them before that could happen. If a younger kobold expresses great cunning and practicality they may earn leadership ahead of their elders, and an incompetent who has miraculously survived to old age may be denied a vote, but such matters vary from case to case and tribe to tribe. Violation of Kobold law is usually punished via fines to the kobold's personal hoard, assignment to dangerous tasks, or in the most extreme cases execution- adults are never exiled, only adolescents and children, adults know the group's ways too well, and could pose a serious threat.

Most kobold economies are based on harvesting of the local resources- for some this means foraging and hunting, for others scavenging and tomb raiding, and for some "the local resources" means pockets and caravans. Those who must steal from outsiders to survive are in no way shunned by other kobolds, outsiders are seen as threats or resources, and only rarely as deserving of a kobold's pity. Within their society most trade is by way of barter, kobolds do not have official currencies but will barter the currencies of other nations like any other resource if they have means to spend it. Despite their pragmatism they still value creature comforts, and a definitely more useful item may be exchanged for one which makes the kobold more happy. Kobolds see this as a simple sign of success, that they are so sure of their survival that they may take minor risks to amuse themselves, but if an unsuccessful kobold attempts to trade away necessities in return for comforts his fellows will be rather worried, and possibly even deny the trade- not out of worry for the kobold per say, but more that encouraging such foolish behavior could put everyone at risk. Those who are not adults cannot own property nor conduct business, attempting to conduct any sort of business transaction with a youngling is tantamount to theft- ie, not illegal unless you cheat them out of too much, they have to learn to spot a con somehow after all. Less nomadic kobold communities to often have craftsmen, usually of comparatively simple trades but nevertheless effective- in the tribes and cities where they are present skilled craftbolds are highly valued, and often treated with respect befitting one more elder than usual.

Despite their pragmatic and cold rules Kobolds are not machines or outright monsters- they feel, form friendships, and even love, they simply know they will be overwhelmed by pragmatic instinct when the going gets tough and have structured their society accordingly. Kobolds hold celebrations in honor of many of the same events others would celebrate, such as birthdays and anniversaries, but such events are commonly small and personal affairs rather than ostentatious parties. Traditions regarding marriage and relationships vary greatly from tribe to tribe, but unanimously such arrangements are largely bereft of any kind of additional legal rules or boons around them (ie, a widow is no more legally entitled to her late husband's hoard than any other kobold in the tribe is). The only common (and even in this case not unanimous) law regarding romantic relationships is the prevalence of minor rules against infidelity, such actions cause too much internal strife. The only relationship with any unanimous legal bearing among kobold societies is that between a youngling and their parent or guardian; parental figures effectively control the youngling's entire life, but accept full responsibility for all their actions. Should a youngling's parents or guardians die their possessions may be taken by any kobold willing to raise the youngling, giving incentive not to simply abandon orphans. This is not simply free stuff for those cold enough to neglect said youngling however- if a guardian gets their charge killed through gross negligence, or fails to prepare them for the world by adulthood, the action is treated and tried as outright murder. Death is, as one may expect, not uncommon for Kobolds. When a kobold is killed or accidentally perishes the group members who were particularly fond of them will normally have a short ceremony in their memory, often involving the leaving of some epitaph or token in their memory, followed by stripping the fallen of all useful valuables. This is not seen as disrespectful in Kobold society, it is seen as giving the dead one last shot to help the group succeed where they could not. Once the corpse is stripped most tribes will have some way of putting it to use; in a few more extreme tribes this is outright cannibalism, but for most it is used as fertilizer or bait.

Faith in Koy is a rather assumed and low-key affair among most Kobolds. They tend to hold their small-scale celebrations in honor of holy days related to him, and elder kobolds have been known to occasionally achieve bits of insight they believe to be from the furtive wyrm himself. Despite their rather casual worship kobolds commonly hold the god in great regard, not only as he the genesis of their kind, but also as he is the reason they are able to survive and thrive where others of their caliber would fail gruesomely. For this reason apostates are often reviled, exiled, or even executed- to deny Koy is to not only bite the hand that feeds you, but to salt the wound for good measure; many tribes circulate rumors galore about all manner of afflictions Koy may cast on unbelieving kobolds ranging from poxes to infertility- but Koy thusfar has not seemed to resort to such practices, so long as his kobolds expell them from the group of course. Tribute is sometimes offered to the wyrm, this practice is seen by the kobolds effectively as barter on a much larger scale. Koy's tribute, when it is offered, is only in the form of mystically potent or bizarre items and artifacts which the wyrm may add to his horde- such things are rarely acquirred by kobolds, but when they are the one responsible often ascends to a hero of Koy.

I wrote a large hunk of this at about 7am with no sleep, so I'm sorry if it's rather jumbled and incomplete but this is the basics so far. I left the locations of the kobold cities I mentioned largely ambiguous, because I wanted to ask if anyone was interested in having said nests of vermin (or another settlement altogether than the examples I mentioned) in their lands. The exception is Redeye- My idea was the small volcanic island forming the surface of Redeye would be somewhere in the empty ocean between Nova Yoro, Boulanger Isles, and Atlalantae. I'll look more over what people have said and responses to this after I've had some sleep.

 

[Shipmaster Sane]

Spoiler: Vaad and the Hold of the Mighty

Vaad, an ancient and mysterious creature who in the age of war since passed ravaged the mortal lands in his grief over the loss of his Kin at mortal hands, inconsolable until defeated and forced to retreat from the world where he has brooded on his loss ever since. So inactive has he been in the last age that an ignorant outsider might even question his existence, or wonder if indeed he was destroyed, and his people worship nothing but a memory, but his power does indeed persist in the world, and his mind has lost nothing of its potency, only it's direction.

God Name: Grandfather Vaad
Grandfather, Great Grandfather, Worshiped Vaad, Woadic Vaadyr. Grant us Mercy. Grant us our blood.
-Benediction of the Elder

Title: God of Psychics, The Great Eye, The Maelstrom
All matter is clay before the Focus. All life is scattered before the Storm. All Spells must perish before the Eye.
-Psionic proverb

Gender: Masculine
For dear was his care of the people, and he in the manner of men begat Vaagwen, blessed maiden, of his own blood.
-The tale of Vaagwen, 1:3

Alignment: Neutral Evil or Neutral, depending on how important you think activity is for an alignment.
"Men will mourn, as I."
- Vaagwen, 38:15

God Appearance: At rest, he is a mountain of dark flesh dominated by a massive eye, with endless reaching tentacles drifting away from his bulk.
Normally, when roused to action, his form reminiscent of a great swirling hurricane, a glowing spherical nucleus surrounded by a spiral of cyclonic tendrils.
Notably, in the war, he took the form of a giant bearing his usual shape upon its shoulders.

"What is this Sign? What is the mountain that the sailors have seen? And the lake of fire upon it, and the Forest in its wake?"
"That is He, and none other."
-Vaagwen, 20: 9

Personality: Melancholic, in a word. Before the war he was hardly the most active god, and after he has become even further removed. He is prone to long periods of semi conscious contemplation and difficult to rouse. He is however possessed of a terrible wrath that, once roused, is nearly indiscriminate and boundless.
"The Lord looked upon the city, and spoke a word to his displeasure. The word lay across the city from end to end, and the land buckled and burst. This word he spoke, and in his mercy, spoke no more."
-The Book of the Waking Eye, 22:8

Opinion of mortals: Passively grants boons to his people, showing only a distant and vague affection for them. Mortals are a largely unwelcome burden on his thoughts, and is tolerant only so much as his slothfulness prevents him from wasting the effort to silence a mortal intrusion into his perception. His worship is somewhat an act of pestering him in the hopes that he will take some action and not punish the impertinent annoyance too severely.
"Oh but look upon your blood in faith, and grant us to see."
-Psalm of Saint Cwych

God’s Domain: A featureless black sea and sky in which Vaad drifts in semi-concious meditation.
"The mind, between endless sea and endless sky, thoughts, the mind shadow, sweep across this sea like a great wind"
-The writings of Saint Cwych


"Long is the Day, and Long is the Night, and Long is the waiting of Annvn"
-A proverb
Avatar Name: Lady Annvn
Avatar Appearance: A huge figure of glistening alien marine life, replete with tentacles hiding much of her form, but at the same time with certain features that are distinctly feminine and humanoid. She has a human-like face, with her eyes and brow hidden.
Personality: Contemplative and graceful, slow to speak, but still far more active than her Lord. She is gentle and kind to living things, but like her God she is capable of being lost in terrible rages beyond consolation.
Magic Abilities: She is perhaps unmatched in her psychic abilities, and particularly skilled in unmaking the magic of other casters. Aside from this she is quite large, compared to a human, and could crush one easily.

"We must play the Game, you and I"
Hero(es): Decapitator Kyur
Rank/Reason:
This large cephalopod floats in midair, and somehow bears a recognizably harsh and intense countenance beneath a huge crested helm. He wields significant psychic might, which he uses to shield himself and lend supernatural power to his blows.
Of the Nobles, Kyur is singular among the warrior caste known as a Decapitator. For a people devoted to a psychic god, the mind is the source of power, and so the taking of heads is held in sacred respect. While his powers pale before the Avatar, he is feared among peers and lessers for the psionic slash of his tendrils.
Personality: Driven, focused, and practical for one of his kin, Kyur is serious and aggressive. Wether bidden by a fellow Noble, or called to action by the Lesser creatures, he pursues his given tasks unflinchingly, though he is not averse to subtle means of achieving victory. There is something of the Samurai in his demeanor.


Terrain Preference: The sea, seashore, and forests.


Name of Kingdom/Empire: The Hold of the Mighty
Capital: Angwyn
Major Cities: Shoal, Dwyfn, Bertilyk
Society:
[People] The mortal folk of the Deep Blood are often suspicious and hostile, a hard people, often fanatical in their traditions and intolerant of outsiders. They respect strength alone, and only strength superior to their own. They take well to farming, for their lore holds that all useful plants are gifts from their god, outgrowths of his very blood. They are at home in ancient forests, which they tend to carefully, as well as coastal environments. Some (perhaps a large portion) of the "Peasantry" live entirely under the waves, tending crops of sea life in a strange mirror of the surface peoples.
The Nobility of the sea go where they please, though most maintain a lair of some kind near enough to their lessers to extract tribute. In exchange, the nobility offer protection, permit the peasantry to gather food from the sea, and in the worst case, simply to abate their wrath, though abusive Nobles tend to find themselves outpositioned by their peers as much as in the human world. The Nobility of the land are more sedentary, taking the form of great trees and offering bounty to the peasantry in exchange for tending and tribute. There are a few great forts and cities of the small-folk ruled by chieftans and clergy of the deep faith, but most live in spread out villages.
[Economy] Xenophobic and isolationist, the Folk do not conduct much trade with outsiders. Their almost endless bountiful harvests of land and sea provide well for them, and so despite their gloomy and fatalistic appearance, they are a prosperous race. The Nobility hoard resources and treasures, which they trade to each other as favors and barter. The lands and sea are rich in Copper, both mundane and with supernatural qualities, which legends say comes from the blue blood of the Nobles, and the Grandfather himself.
[Politics] The Nobles maintain loose ties, most acting independently, Though there is a general understanding of who is superior to whom, and loyalties exist based on both favors and fear. Generally a Noble is only responsible for his own claimed area, and left to his own devices, though they may be called upon by an ally or superior for assistance. Nobles tend towards slothfulness and contemplation, in short they prefer to do as little as possible, they are lazy in the extreme.
Decapitators are the "Knights" or "assassins" of the nobility. Though there are very few of them, those that can call upon their service are the most feared among the Nobility.

The politics of the lesser folk are more clear cut. The lands of the Mighty are divided into given areas, ruled over ostensibly by chieftains who ensure that the villagers stay protected and any nobles remain appeased. The chieftains themselves owe fealty to the church, which dominates the few cities of the land, but are rarely called upon.


Other:
The men of these lands are in some ways primative, comparable to bronze age Celts, but in other ways peculiarly advanced. The firearm is not unknown to them, Forrest Nobles have in the past grown hollow shoots of strengthened wood, preloaded with propellant and bullet, to pass amongst their vassals. The little folk have themselves experimented with re-creating this weapon on their own.

The direct light of the sun is painful to those not of the Forrests, Noble and Lesser alike. While this light will not kill them by any means, they distain it for it's discomfort, and mercifully their lands are often cloaked in perpetual cloud cover.

The scale of the men varies as their overall form does, usually from place to place. Among them are men particularly diminutive in stature, Pygmys of three feet and higher, and men some three times higher.

Despite their relative primitiveness, men and Noble alike are quite adept with architecture, and the stone constructions of the cities are quite impressive.

More official writeup with a few extra pieces of lore.

 

[Draco]

Alright, here's what I've got for my characters.

​

Spoiler: Biggest Birb

In an age long since past, when the Sun yet wandered aimlessly across the cosmos without regard for the smaller creatures below, the lands would become scorched and the people burned by his deadly rays. The Moon Goddess did what she could to give aid, but her chase of the Sun around the world granted only a short reprieve from the torture. Few of the other deities did much to shield the poor souls from the unbearable heat, and so these creatures were forced to pray to the unforgiving orb for mercy, with supplications going unanswered for ages as they hid beneath ramshackle shelters or were burned alive.

That is, until one day, when a great shadow fell over the land. The mortals looked to the heavens, and where the sun should be they saw only a titanic silhouette, multicolored beams of light the only indication of where it ended, wings larger than entire nations spreading across the heavens to shield them from their perpetual torment. Where before there was open sky there now stood a giant bird, sunbeams breaking apart into their component colors across her alabaster feathers, sparing the smaller creatures from the pain of these flames. Every night, when the Moon would chase the Sun away, the bird would rest, folding her wings and taking roost while her charges slept; and every morning she would rise with the dawn, standing before the effervescent orb, bearing her burden that mortals might walk unfettered over the soil.

It did not take long for the people to begin venerating their savior as their deity, erecting monuments and shrines in her honor. They gave her many epithets, but after a time they came to learn her true name...

Perzawlkhan
Lord of Birds, Eagle of the Eclipse, Bearer of the Broken Flame​

Gender: Female

Alignment: Neutral

God Appearance: An exceedingly large Brahminy kite-esque bird, tall enough to stand in the sea and have her head reach the top of the sky. The feathers on her back still smolder somewhat with the flames of the sun, all of the scintillating colors of the rainbow emanating in a prismatic spray from the white feathers of her underbelly, as though she herself were a giant flame. The tips of her wings, however, are forever scorched black, burns that mark where the halo of light would frame her silhouette against the sky.


Personality: Emotionally distant, a near constant bird-like glare marking her features. She speaks little with the other gods, spending much of her time in her domain observing the comings and goings of her worshipers. She holds some respect for Sahira for her role in wrangling the Sun before the war, but the girl’s fickle and playful attitude tends to get on the Bearer’s nerves.

However, she holds a special place of ire in her giant heart for Shahrivar, an anger burning just as strong as the flames that scar her back still. She doesn’t impede him or confront him on the Godly Realm, but she waits for the day where he attempts to enter the mortal realm again. He will not be spared her wrath then.

In the war of the gods she sided with the order of Azahiel, for while it was under his rule the Sun performed his tortures, Shahrivar's rebellion against him was an opportunity to strike at him.


Opinion of mortals: The Lord of Birds did very little to interfere in the lives of the mortals under her care when she was present in their realm, human or bird alike. She had a general desire to see them survive, hence her taking on the burden of shielding them from the sun’s rays, but beyond that she did not care to settle disputes or arbitrate over the lives of her subjects in any meaningful manner. Any direct intervention is done at the inclinations of her Avatar, not by any advisement on her part.


God’s Domain: A non-descript expanse of mountains and ankle-deep (for her) water, the only light source being the flames that light her back. Within the ranges there is a big nest that she will occasionally roost in, but there are no “manmade” structures to speak of.

Spoiler: Avatar: Biggest Cro

Kweitpedra
The First Torch Bearer​

Once a pristine white crow, Kweitpedra was present when Perzawlkhan shielded the land with her wings. However, as a consequence of this, very little of the sun’s warmth reached the mortals under her care, leaving the earth cold and barren. Kweitpedra took pity upon these smaller creatures, and so they might live without suffering he sought a source of heat for them.

In time he spotted the great flames that flowed across the back of his Lord, and saw his opportunity. With great care and caution, he plucked a beakful of feathers from her wing and flew off, carrying the flames down to the mortals below, that they might have some warmth underneath the shelter of their deity’s wings. However, this selfless act came at a cost. The flames the feathers bore scorched the crow on the journey back, and so his once shining white feathers and beak were ever after coated in soot and ash, his voice made hoarse by the smoke.

When the time came for the gods to leave the mortal realm behind, Perzawlkhan chose the great trickster as her envoy to the mortals. He had already shown that he would take the actions necessary to ensure the longevity of her people, even to his own detriment, as he had done since the beginning of her godhood…

...there also were no other candidates so brazen as he to have stolen from her. If he was brave enough to challenge her in this way, then there was no fear any other god could possibly bring to bear to make him abandon the sacred duties she would bestow upon him.


Avatar Appearance: A massive crow with talons large enough to enclose a full grown man. While he appears to be pitch black, should one look closely they will see tiny sparks of rainbow light glimmering on his feathers, a small remnant of the flames that burned him so long ago.


Personality: Generally amicable, well spoken and scholarly, but with a mischievous streak that has given him a level of infamy among foreigners. He rules well, seeking council with the lower lords of the Parliament whenever needed, observing the comings and goings of mortals from the skies above.

While he does not share the same level of enmity for the Sun as the Lord of Birds, the Great Crow does believe that recompense has been lacking. The removal of Azahiel from power was justice for his impotent rule, but to solely punish him at the end of the war did nothing to absolve any other deities of wrongdoing. Therefore, he is generally wary of interactions with the Followers of Shahrivar, particularly because of the distance they would need travel and the oceans they would need cross in order to reach the home of his people.


Magic Abilities: Kweitpedra is quite fast, as one would need to be to steal the feathers off of the Lord of Birds’ back without being caught. What also aided him in this endeavor was his innate ability to relieve creatures of their items, even if those things are on their person or in their grasp. Should anyone come into Kweitpedra’s proximity, they will find that their possessions may be taken from them suddenly and without warning, should he have enough of an interest in it...or if he’s in a playful mood. It is still unclear how he manages to go unnoticed when doing this, despite his girth.

Due to the nature of his fateful escapade, Kweitpedra still holds some of the flame he stole within him. He shared the fire with the mortals, but did not give it up completely. As such, he is capable of manipulating powerful fire magic, sending forth large firestorms with his wings, or spewing flames from his mouth akin to a dragon. He is also able to use the soot and ash that coats his body to form smokescreens and fog cover, making him an even more difficult target to pin down. Much like his Lord, the Torch Bearer is capable of serving as a shield against harm, though not to the same deific extent as she.

Spoiler: Bird Society

Name of Kingdom/Empire: Parliament of Fowls

Capital Region: Azniz

Major Regions: Lendhalsawel, Kerpoyyo, Tataria


People: The birds and humans that live in the lands once watched over by Perzawlkhan are collectively called Saweleik, or “Forsakers of the Sun.” Because of the Lord of Birds protection in eons past, the humans native to the regions are unnaturally pale skinned, a shade reminiscent of the white feathers their god and her Avatar bore. The birds that inhabit the Parliament come in all shapes and sizes, from crows and other corvids; rocs and other large avians; and various types of half-breed in between, whether they be solely between bird or borne with men.

A common practice among the Saweleik is to paint or tattoo their skin/feathers various colors, each with their own purpose or symbolic meaning. For example, the people of Azniz will paint themselves black with soot and charcoal, coating themselves in a manner reminiscent of Kweitpedra’s journey, while those of Kerpoyyo and other regions will use bright colors to match the iridescence of their greater patron.

The Saweleik are naturally inclined to sorceries and magic, specifically two types they specialize in; the first, shielding and warding magicks, derived from the guardianship of their deity that has ensured their survival; the second, fire magic given by the great Crow to ensure their ability to thrive in the dark. As such, it is not uncommon for forces fielded by the Parliament to include many casters that are masters of these two methods of sorcery, the enemies weapons and spells shattering against their projected walls as fire rains from above.


Terrain Preference: The different groups within the domains of the Parliament each have their own designs on how best to live as a group. Some will live as nomads, wandering the plains with the change of the seasons, while others will live within tall forests, building cities within the trees in a manner not unlike the nests of birds. In general, however, the Forsakers tend towards grassland with some forest, areas where there is much land to grow crops, open sky to fly, and high places to build nests or houses in the trees.


Economy: Saweleik are prolific collectors and traders. They will exchange goods between themselves and any foreigners who are willing to deal with them, with feathers being one of their chief exports. They also conduct raids to a more limited extent, the combination of these two methods being the source of most of the raw materials they can’t acquire themselves, such as metals for forging, exotic foods, salt, etc.


Politics: The Parliament of Fowls consists of a loose confederation of hundreds of small tribal groups spread across its “holdings,” each of which is lead by some manner of chieftain. It is rare for these groups to have a meeting as a large polity, only really doing so in times of war against other polities. Kweitpedra does hold sway over these groups, and when they do convene he sits at the head, but he only exercises this authority when it is needed to direct the whole country. At a meeting of the minds the chieftains will sit around a grand fire, which some say is lit with the First Torch, and debate as a Parliament what direction to take, with the Great Crow presiding and making the final decision if no consensus is met.

Communication between tribes is straightforward and easily managed, due to the fact that they send messages by birds which are capable of speech and understanding direction. Therefore it is akin to sending a human messenger with the benefit of flight, making message delivery exceedingly simple.

Depending on the part of the region they reside in, the different tribes live off the land in various ways. The peoples of Tataria further south are nomadic horse peoples, where the grass grows tall and quickly, making it exceptionally good for pasture and herding. They tend towards fighting with bow and spear as a cavalry, with large rocs and other birds providing fearsome aerial support. To the east in Kerpoyyo, where plains turn to forest near the Huntlands, the Saweleik make more permanent residence in tree houses and stone temples, tending to the bountiful trees over several generations. In Lendhalsawel to the west, the Forsakers have more sedentary herd animals and few horses, and so they have come to excel at travel by foot, being some of the fastest men on the planet. And in the central north of Azniz, where the First Torch Bearer makes his nest, the Dahkma stands in his honor, where it is said the Flame was first brought to the land. It is here that the disparate tribes send their best and brightest to learn the Path of the Crow, a distinct martial art, and the associated sorceries of their peoples. This place too is where the great meetings are held between tribes, so that the First Flame need not stray from its resting place.


Other: The regions that the Forsakers call home are extraordinarily fertile, able to grow almost any plant whether native to the region or brought from elsewhere. This is due to the fact that in a forgotten era Perzawlkhan had carelessly dropped from her nest an egg that had grown rotten and diseased. The flood from the egg cracking against the earth was enough to cover hundreds of miles of land in its sulfuric contents. As the ages passed and the terrain gradually became apparent once more from under the sea of broken yolk, the ground underneath had absorbed all of the nutrients present in the egg as natural fertilizer, and thus every harvest in the Land of the Broken Egg is plentiful beyond compare.

Because of the sudden advent of incredibly hot fire among their people, the Saweleik have a bit of disparity in their technological progression. They mainly wear hide and leather armors made from the beasts they hunt, but unlike historical factions at that level of armament they have a respectable grasp of metallurgy, with iron weapons and arrowheads being commonplace. Some higher ranked soldiers will even wear a few pieces of metal armor, though this is uncommon due to the prevalence of shielding and warding enchantments, as well as the acquisition of metal being almost exclusively done either by trade or by raid. At the same time, stone and flint weapons still see wide use due to the prevalence of the materials, and structures made mostly out of wood with wards to ensure they are not set aflame.

A common tactic that armies will use is to have flocks of bird soldiers carry heavy objects, usually rocks, up high above enemy forces and drop them from above. While primitive at a glance, a hailstorm of five pound objects falling at terminal velocity has proved to be a devastating tactic against most forces during past conflicts.

Spoiler: Hero: Ibrazim

Rank/Reason: A large pale man from a foreign land who has become a priest of the Path of the Crow. A philosopher and scholar, none are quite sure from whence he hails, for he speaks little of himself. He wishes merely to spread the teachings of the faith farther than the confines of the Parliament, so that others might be reborn as he was in the light of the Prismatic Pyre.

As a disciple of the Crow, Ibrazim has been taught a martial art that takes the disarming abilities of Kweitpedra and applies them to close range combat. Thus Ibrazim is a formidable melee combatant, quickly relieving his opponents of their arms and beating them down with throws and counters. He is also a potent caster, specializing in the typical magicks of the Saweleik people, though being more closely related to the Crow he leans more on pyromancy.


Personality: Cheerful and boisterous, able to talk for hours with (or at) anyone about various philosophical and theological topics. He is always willing to help those in need, though he is far from naive. He knows that many in the world have lost their way, and that the only method to bring them back from the brink is to transform them in the fires of a crucible, be it metaphorical or literal. As such, he does not shy away from combat, though in the few cases where it can be avoided he will attempt not to kill his opponents.

Spoiler: Hero: Azdela

Rank/Reason: A chieftain’s daughter of a large tribe of Saweleik from the region of Lendhalsawel, Azdela has seen had a yearning for adventure since she was little girl, when her father took her with him to one of the grand meetings at the temple of Azniz. The scope of the structure, as well as all of the lands she saw as they traveled, made her long for a chance to explore even further beyond the comparatively small holdings of her tribe.

Azdela is frighteningly quick, able to close to melee range faster than some of the fleetest warriors of her people and dodge arrows with only a few feet to spare. She fights with a macuahuitl, a tepoztopilli, and a sling, all of which she can use pyromancy to increase the lethality of. Her specialty, however, is a natural talent in shield magic, which she will use in combination with a large hide shield somewhat esoterically to bullrush her opponents, protect her limbs so that she can engage in hand to hand combat with more heavily armed opponents, or reinforce her weapons to more effectively block with them. These factors combined all serve to make her a physical powerhouse beyond what her impressive physique would already suggest.


Personality: Proud first and foremost, of her skills and her heritage. What level of haughtiness she may have is however tempered by an almost childlike curiosity, the wonders of new places and people catching her attention at every turn. For this reason she generally has decent interactions with common folk, as is befitting of a ruler’s daughter, but she can be easily provoked by insults or the promise of a challenge.

And I suppose if I'm the last to join, my people can occupy whatever of the white lands remain unoccupied after @Shipmaster Sane is given his coastline. Plenty of land for them to be nomads over.

 

[Yukitama]

Working on finishing the write up for the Huntlands and Tauphys's domain and other information. Sorry for the delay on that.

But for now have two of the most notable territories in those rather frightening lands, along with a bit on the two most important terms and concepts of the place.

Spoiler: Dictionary

Spoiler: Life-Land

A beast that represents and is tied to the land. As much an animal as it is a metaphysical representation. While they exist outside of the Huntlands they are primarily found there. If Tauphys had his way the entire world would be littered with them, causing mortals to either submit to the terror of their authority, or conquer them so as to claim them and their land. To defeat one is to gain the blessing of the gods in claiming the land it guards. Whether it be a simple lake, a massive forest, the plains or the mountains themselves each Life-Land is a formidable one of a kind creature.

Those who bind with it not only find themselves gaining elements and powers from their beast, but also command and rule over their beast.

Truly the Huntlands is where the raw savage might of nature is fully exhibited. Yet in the end the most frightening thing is that of the humans that conquer, and find their own brutal might rising to match such adversity.

Spoiler: Huntlord

The term for those who have become a lord of the Huntlands by defeating a Land-Life, or Huntlord and making a pact with a Land-Life to claim that land. That said it is possible for one to theoretically make a pact with multiple Land-Lives. But few can go beyond three, limiting the personal power of even a lord with large territories.

While their talents and various dispositions differ as all men do. There are two things that are absolutely certain of each one.

1: They are powerful.

Powerful enough to defeat not only a Life-Land, but also fight and fend off the constant invasions of other Huntlords. In many kingdoms battle to determine dominance is carried out through a duel of champions, of Huntlord and Life-Land. Yet even in this corner of the world war blooms with both man and beast fighting for something more than just survival.

2: They hold a hunger and pride.

No one comes to the Huntlands for an easy life. Some come to wish to gain power or land where they can grab it. The brutish, the cunning. Whatever they may be they hold a desire that makes the struggle worth it. A constant clashing of dreams and determination. Huntlords are as much the foe to each other as they are to themselves. That said there are those who accept the yoke of another, who tie themselves to a greater king as vassals who serve under their lord.

Spoiler: Apex and Zenith

Name/Title: Asmund Apex - The Beast of Man

Land-Life: Skavved’s Range

Kingdom: Zenith

In the Huntlands the boundary between beast and man is blurred. Not just because of the pacts or the savage strength-dictated life that one must eck in this frontier. But because of the sort of men it brings, the sort of men it raises. Asmund himself could be called the pinnacle of the Huntlands, in both way of life and strength.

A ridiculous warrior that carved the largest territory in the lands. Under him both man and beast have fallen, the man raising himself to higher heights upon a mound of corpses. The strong are but proof of his own ability as they return to the earth to raise more challenges and trophies for him.

The earth that he then conquered as yet another foe. The ancient dragon known as Skavved, one of the first creations between the gods of Azahiel and Tauyphs found its end in the mountains of the Huntlands. His lifespark ignited the dormant energies of the mountains and gave it shape. An elemental, a shade. Both of these things and yet its own unique being. Skavved’s Range. A Land-Life not designed by the god, nor intentional at all. Yet it in a sense is the living heart of the Huntlands. A reflection of it and a sum of it.

A ridiculous battle that earned him the name of Apex among both follower and foe.

Rather than a land divided between vassals huntlords and their beasts, or a single champion with many beasts pushing at the potential of what one man can handle Asmund holds only one partner and beast. A path that truly leads to his epitaph of The Wild’s Apex.

According to rumors the beasts that fall to Asmund are fed to the Skavved’s Range.

In the recent years it was said that the Wild Scourge battled the Apex. A battle that left the man keep an eye out and even send some of his hunters in search for the beast that escaped his reaping. A matter of both pride and incompatibility that leaves them as embittered foes.

The one that is most favored to becoming the king of the Huntlands. Yet even for him such a possibility seems a uncertain, unstable dream.

He holds little practiced magic, but his raw power, skill at arms and ability to travel and navigate, bending the wilds to his will is second to none. An absolute ridiculous monster that's as frightful as any creature. Carrying a pillar of rock hewn from Skavved's Range after his victory and pact with it as a club, the bones of various local beasts as arrows, and a flaming bow that eternally blazes with the smoldering embers of an elemental's core. He is the center of the civilization known as Zenith. But really, what kind of messed up place allows for such a ridiculous kingdom to come about?

His vassal Huntlords too wield blades sharpened from parts of the Range, and some even take to using shields. For his part however Asmund wields no armor, contesting blows with his physique... or inevitably simply dealing with the wounds that he attains from the many mighty blows that cause the marring with wounds of even his body. His flesh is like that of rock, transformed from his pact with the Range. Yet in this world there are many beasts and men. Life-Land, Huntlord and outsider alike who can certainly cleave through even such a protection. A ridiculous defense. But even such a thing cannot be called unmatched in this vast world.

Of course if he was a man that required such a cheat defense to be able to fight foes like that in the first place then he would certainly not be deserving of his title in the first place.

There is then finally his trump card, an inversion of the power gained from his pact. The conversion of a shield into a lance. Imbuing the energy of the mountain that represents the Huntlands and exists as a strange font of "life" his fist brims with a blow that twists and transforms into a blow to strike his foe down whatever it may be. A true show of wild power, a blow of adaptability that matches any sort of adversity.

...Of course being a blow that can harm its target whatever it may be is very different from a blow that will deal meaningful damage against certain ludicrous enemies such as the gods. But such realities are not quite as dramatic are they?

Spoiler: Hornet Tarkus, and the Three Lords

Name: Hornet Tarkus

The Three Lords:Loyl Bru. Gahn Yu, Zane Faye

Kingdom : Swarm (Tunneton)

Land Life: The Writhing Hive

A great lord and a trio of brothers bound to one beast. Curiously the mysterious lord managed to conquer and carve out a Owing to their own blood-bonds and the nature of the beast they share the land and have only become more and more tied together. The boundary between the different paths their blood has taken only becoming more and more pronounced as possibilities rather than that of simple birth.


The power then of their land and their numbers is to impart part of their possibility and abilities to others. A reflection and shard, the potential to achieve such heights in their fields partially passed on and echoed by those who serve under them.


Then likewise their powers are pledged to a lord that is one and the same as the hivebeast that he conquered. The Lord Hornet Tarkus. The abilities of his followers are borrowed just as easily as the chintin and venom-dripping blade attained from the beast. Riding into battle upon the beast that is a strange conglomerate of writhing mud in the form of a massive beast uncertain in form, budding into various insects and transforming as it needs to. The name of the “kingdom” known as Tunneton to its neighbors rather a simple title of “Swarm.” Little is known of the man known as Tarkus. Not even his face as the towering armor-clad man removes not his insectoid mask. Simply that the loyalty offered to him by the three brothers that act as his vassals is without peer.

The three themselves are more open in their knowledge.

Loyl Bru is a governer and herder both. Dealing with lesser beasts and men both. He is the cultivator and under him the enviroment of their kingdom prospers even in its struggles. Although matters of discipline and ability to those who live under them are aided by the power of the Hive, such things are but a crutch if they are all that one relies on. While not as mighty in combat as his brothers, he more than makes up for it by his own tenacious will. Otherwise he is the mage of the bunch, and attempts to instruct others in Swarm of the arts. Although for whatever reason it is a rare talent to find in those who end up settling in the lands.

Gahn Yu, the warlord is one of the greatest warriors of the Huntlands. Specializing not in the hunting of beasts, but rather in the clashing and war of the lands. He is one who fights men and shackled beasts and leads his troops to victory. His own talent is that of his spearmanship and the innate power of his voice that ruptures his foes with his shout.

Incidentally due to not having the greatest control he’s often told to shut up due to the havoc his speech causes due to its power.

Of the three the best hunter and traverser of the wilds is Zane Faye. A trickster in another way different from Loyl Bru. The ability to observe, understand and utilize the land, its attributes and bounty come naturally to him. Whether it’s bringing forth avalanches or predicting and encouraging the explosive birth of elementals. He seems to hold an innate understanding of the earth that few men can match. Carrying a number of shards left by elementals and smelted with the materials from leylines. He holds various striking sticks, javelins and other tools for any sort of situation. If Gahn Yu is the man to fell an army, then Zane Faye is the one to mislead and make sure it does not arrive to the battlefield in the first place.

Together with the pillar of their society, Hornet Tarkus, the three brothers have repelled advances of conquest from the Apex time and time again. The brothers have even been reported to drive away and defeat the Skavved’s Range as their lord battled the Apex.

 

[Yukitama]

Wrote up some of the beast race stuff, and on elemental things. I'll post the beast race stuff once I get some feedback and approval from the gods I've worked with on them. But for now have the Elementals.

Also for those who have yet to discuss an idea and want such a race, or haven't fleshed out their idea with me to a base I can work on please contact me.

Otherwise after much deliberation I have decided on the name of: The Cuttings to refer to the beast races. Going off the idea of planting a cutting of a branch from a tree to grow a new one. Taking a bit of a god's designs for mortal races and creating a primal shadow that waxes and wanes in relation to the civilization they mirror or oppose. At times punishment for mortals to even the scales, and at times tools and vehicles for the god that they were made for.

Spoiler: Elemental Poles

The creation of Tauphys was a violent rapture and orgy of life. Life that grew and thrived under the sun, only to burn away or wilt as their greed over stretched their limits, or their will to endure and thrive was scorched away by the unforgiving unrelenting world.

He who was born from such conditions in turn understands the current state and the proper cycle that the world settled in. An aberration of excess that regulates it and protects the world. The one who is most fit to understand the problems of such excess, the one who opposes his creation in a sense. Perhaps the true nature of his duties and his responsibilities is the simple wish of that which burned, weak and strong. To be able to thrive, to be allowed a world where they could do their best and reach their limits, whether it was pitiful and small, or something that could shine as bright as the sun.

What then of his pity and interest in a beast that wished to exceed his limits? His Avatar? But that is a story for another time.

The Four Elemental Pillars built into the world, originally termed the World Pillars, carved into the planet from surface to core are an answer to the story of his birth crafted along with Amenti. Composed of a part of every layer of the foundation of the world, and attuned to the very flow of life and sensitive to the essence of the divine. They are that which brings the seasons, and that which balances and adjusts in accordance to the fluctuations of the gods to ensure a stability and reliability in the planet and nature.

While there was worry that with the death of the Forge God that the pillars would collapse or otherwise have some sort of catastrophic reaction. It seems that they have only dug into the planet further. Upon her death the pillars reacted, divine essence and life ripping through the mantle and innards of the planet. These fractures that spread from the pillars when they were however in turn were a blessing in disguise, a release that let them intergrate even further. At this point the poles and the planet cannot be said to be separate existences with the poles a anchor for life itself.

The fractures formed from the death of Amenti are the veins of the planet, already present natural points that opened up to allow a flow that was waiting to be born. These veins, dubbed the leylines carry energy that could be called the collecting sum of life. If the echoes of Amenti are the aftermath records left from a life, then the leylines carry an energized vigour inspired by their passing and life. In a more materialistic sense they could be said to be something that deals with the cycle of life and death, an attribute taken only after the death of one of its creators.

Leeching from divine essence, taking in the sum of life and circulating it back. Eventually all things flow into the world and flow back out. The anchor for those finite, and the attention of those immortal.

Spoiler: Elementals

An oddity among The Cuttings. Rather than a creation meant to fill the shadow cast by the light of Amenti’s people they are more a shade of Tauphyus himself. A byproduct created by the systems the two created to regulate the world. Born from violent eruptions and build up at the leylines, pressure released from the world and the flow of life. The mini-singularities of elemental and life energy permeate the area around the leylines. A fact often utilized by mortal races and even animals for various reasons. But at times rarely an elemental is born. Not rare, but also not all too often seen. These embodiment of life hold a close relation to the two gods that inadvertently created them, perhaps closer than most mortals and their gods could hope to attain.

Life and death. The four seasons. The twin axes that they lie upon hold various different leanings and emphasis within each elemental and their individual tuning on the spectrum. But a perfect elemental less like a form of nature, and more an embodiment of life itself has been rumored to be something that may yet bloom. Such a thing would without doubt be independent from the two gods, and perhaps be a new kind of existence. But such a fate is uncertain even under the gaze of the Moon.

Would such an existence be good? Or something that would lead to tragedy? Whichever side it lands on, such a thing could only be called terribly beautiful.

 

[Yukitama]

Got a clearing on sharing two races of The Cuttings from their gods.

Spoiler: Sahira's Werewolves

A perhaps more literal mirror. Just as the moon brings respite to the world from the sun. Even her bestial people hold a moment of peace from being savages. Mingling at times with mortal races. The idea of werewolves is partially a curse.


Both in her spite for the sun, and because of its domain of truth a werewolf exposed to sunlight will turn to their original form. For some that is that of a mortal race, the status of werewolf spread to them as a curse. For those naturally born and those who are cursed and turned do not walk as monsters at the same time. All sorts of things are hidden in the dark of the moon, including their states as monster walks as man, and man walks as monster. For those who are natural werewolves their time playing as people comes to an end. The shining of the sun heralds bloodshed and savagery as the moon looks upon in approval of the chaos that is at times wrecked upon those who bathe in the day.


Life is the most uncertain for them, and yet they could be said to be the most unfortunate, and yet most fortunate race made out of a collaboration with Tauphyus.


Certainly they seemed to get along the best with the mortals they reflect, instead directing their rancour to the followers of another...

Spoiler: Shahrivar's Orcs

The fragments of memories of life before his birth were the inspiration for these creations. Beastial lifeforms that otherwise hold elements that are plantlike. They see only their own desire to rise forth towards the sun and engage in the exhilaration of triumph over others. Savage and yet given a keen instinct and head for war. They could be said to be the race with the most consistent conflict within themselves, but such things amount to but mere deadly play. War is purpose and fun both as they wage battle for as long as the sun shines on them to give them energy as their sustenance and encouragement.


Banding together in warbands and primitive villages. Those who prove themselves as the strongest. Whether it be as a warrior and warlord, a sun-touched seer, or a beast who can bring forth visions of victory to reality as well as any mortal general. Become their rulers. But all such rulers swear one-sided fealty to the Sun on Earth, Phoebos. As a side note to be brought into the ranks of the Wild Scourge they as a whole will only accept the call when the latest iteration of the cycle finally triumphs over the avatar of Shahrivar… although it may not need be through brute strength alone. That said that fact alone has delayed or even caused an end to a cycle before it even started many times over the eons.

Also they like fire a lot.

 

[almostinsane]

@LordSunhawk, @Reimu Hakurei, @S'task, @FriedCFour, @GrailKnight, @Naga The Serpent, @RandomNormie, ⚕⚕⚕, @Have You Seen My Son, @DeTA, @Yukitama, @Hlaalu Agent, @socsod, @khatun, @GravitysMomentum, @Blue, @ConvexAtaraxia, @Leepysheepy, @Shipmaster Sane, @Draco-182


In case anyone has missed it, the IC is now open: https://www.the-sietch.com/index.php?threads/ye-are-gods-ic.778/

 

[almostinsane]

I think they are referring to my app? I did list some variety of strange and foreign races of sorts in my app, to add to the flavor and such of my mortals' nation. Though i'd rather not be pulled into the arguments going on above. ^^;

Well, I did give you permission to have gotten a few of Earon's kraken's for yourself.

Announcement

We have been having some excellent brain-storming in both the PM and the OOC. I love that and I like listening to new ideas. However, some issues have arisen.

1. To what extent should Tauphys be involved in every race's creation? Many people have objected to him having to be involved in every race's creation. Yet, that has been the canon previously. We need to work this issue out right now.

2. There has been talk about unfair defenses against Amenti and the undead. We will need to settle this issue as well.

As per the rules, I'd like the concerned parties, particularly the ones who have PMed me to make their opinions and arguments known.

I assure everyone that each person is not trying to step on one another's toes on purpose so, I ask you to please make your arguments without casting negative intentions on another player's part.

I personally apologize for allowing these issues to crop up. I have started a new job recently and I have not been as attentive here and in my PMs as I should have been. It is my hope we work on a resolution satisfactorily for everyone.

 

[almostinsane]

Moving forward, I will answer all questions in the OOC to prevent misunderstandings.

All gods who are withdrawn will be replaced by NPCs God's filling their roles or by new players/players with multiple gods playing a good filling that role.