I'm hoping to take position as Malebazus's ruler, and as a goddess of storms and the dead. I don't know how much we're allowed to dictate what Malebazus was like, but I was thinking I might have the ability to do so, given how little has been described of it besides where it's positioned. I thought the whole "fire and brimstone" concept of Hades could be given a new spin.

Nanaeios, the Goddess of Malebazus, rules over her stormy kingdom with a solemn melancholic air. Malebazus appears as a vast plains with countless crags sprouting from its surface. Eternal storms far more violent than any experienced on Lymaeus rage for eternity, drowning the lands in perpetual floods and impassable muddy terrain. The dead wander Malebazus slowly, impeded by lakes that come and go, drowning them in heavy waters, or sunken in bogs littered with skeletons. Their bodies either continue to wander or become so exhausted that they can only fall face-first into the murky plains, or float atop rivers alongside the other dead. Those dead souls of especially nefarious nature experience their time in Malebazus in a much worse way; they are constantly stricken by lightning, searing their water-logged skin in flames that even the storms cannot extinguish.

Nanaeios is the patron of the storms, the dead and sirens, bane of sailors and shipwrights. Her cries are the rains, and her screams the crack of lightning. In her past Nanaeios was simply goddess of the seas, and was betrothed to the past god of death whom she deeply loved. For some reason that has yet to be decided, she was separated from this god, and fell into despair, becoming the first storms and hurricanes. Yearning for his presence, she found solace in taking his position, feeling it to be closest to him in the flesh. Mortals claim this sadness is what fuels such terrible storms that plague their lands. Sirens unleash their enthralling songs as poems of Nanaeios's laments, promising love unto mortals as deep as hers.

Nanaeios is often depicted as a beautiful young woman, with skin as white as the lightning that heralds her arrival, or as pale as death, depending on who is describing her. Those that feel pity for her claim the former, while those that suffer from her storms say the latter. The immense coat she wears upon her shoulders is a memento of her husband, which is believed to be capable of turning into black wings not unlike the harpies that she supposedly bears.