Name: Aeliana "Aelia" Elidi
Title: Goddess of Rebirth, the Sun, Light & Fire
Gender/Sex: Female
Age: 10,291, at least that's what she says/remembers
Species: Phoenix
Information: A Phoenix' true form is that of a large fiery bird. They can engulf their entire body in flames, either in human or phoenix form, and possess an amazing amount of strength. They can carry an entire person in their talons and still be able to fly. Naturally, they have incredible control of the light and fire they emit, and are immune to burns. They are also immortal, being reborn again from the ashes each time one should die. This regeneration ability extends to incredible healing prowess: their tears have the ability to heal any wound with direct contact.

Perhaps due to their longevity, they are very rare and solitary. Most phoenixes throughout time tend to be the same ones. As a result, phoenixes tend to be largely independent. Even other phoenixes don't typically know of others of their kind. They rarely interact with each other and aren't a particularly familial creature, so new phoenix births are especially rare. Even supposed "new births" are hard to verify however, due to a phoenix's unique memory constitution. They have controllable amnesia and can make themselves forget memories as they so choose with each new rebirth. It's not perfect, as often times forgotten memories can be re-triggered, but if a memory becomes particularly old enough they can eventually succeed in forgetting it permanently.

In addition, Phoenixes are able to control the rate at which they will grow for each rebirth. They could mimic a human's lifespan if they wanted, or even grow quickly like a bird. Their growth rate instinctively slows dramatically upon adulthood. In fact, they are more likely to perish to an injury than they are to reach an old age. It could even be said that their best self-healing ability is to allow themselves to die to an injury so they can be reborn fully unharmed. However, this has naturally created a twisted sense of mortality in most phoenix.

Appearance: Aeliana’s human appearance very easily gives off the aura of a Goddess. She's slightly tall at 5'6", but her confidence sometimes makes her feel even taller than she actually is, especially within the memories of others. She is shapely with long legs accented by a short torso. Her skin is pale with a soft and healthy glow. She has bouncy orange and red hair that forms natural wavy curls that reach her mid back. Her droopy almond shaped eyes are a clear crystal blue that are rimmed by a startling set of long, dark eyelashes. She has a strong preference for red lipstick and white gowns or dresses accentuated with gold.

As a phoenix, she is large and imposing. She has a wingspan of roughly 7 meters (22 ft), and is over 3 meters (11 ft) tall. Coated in bright and fiery plumage, her feathers easily puts all other birds to shame. Her tail is especially long and resplendent; it most closely seems to resemble a mix of a widowbird, a greater bird-of-paradise, and a peacock, but with spatuletails spread throughout. In this form, she almost always seems to be made of flickering red and orange flames, but there are occasionally times where she might dim her fire enough that her feathers almost appear still.

Personality: Aeliana is, for all intents and purposes, a bit of an enigma. Even her fellow Gods have a hard time truly understanding her. However, that is entirely Aelia’s goal. She chooses to be unpredictable and capricious. If she acts odd enough, then she’ll be able to emotionally keep others at bay.

Upon first impression, she may come across as harsh and aloof. She has a perfectly practiced graceful air about her, naturally befitting of a God of course. Adorned in luxuries and wealth, she clearly seems to have a taste for the finer things in life. This lavish aire is all a carefully crafted part of her goddess persona.

But then she suddenly reveals a mysterious and mischievous streak. She is teasing and playful, with whimsical tales and riddles galore. She takes a bit of enjoyment out of this twisted game of messing with people's impression of her. She will purposely be withdrawn and act superior to others, only to suddenly toss an unexpected comment or do something strange or ill-fitting just to see others' reactions.

While she is an elaborate storyteller, she seems to constantly mix up the details. There are times when these holes seem unintentional; she has lived a long time after all, forgetting the details is to be expected. Most times though, it is deliberate. Is she lying? Trying to pull on someone’s leg? It's truly difficult to tell when she's being truthful about something.

She tends to change her interests often. Most assume it’s because she grows bored quite easily, but actually it is her attempt to run away from her sorrow. She moves from one interest to the other because nothing truly matters against the march of time. Despite this nihilism, she still misses those she has lost. Her strange attitude is likely an attempt to run from her past and present reality. She doesn't want to get too attached to something that'll just disappear from her life… again.

History: Aeliana's life is constantly one of a tragic cycle, but that's the norm for most of her kind. Aeliana is mostly unaware of her parents, she's not even entirely sure if she had any. She hardly even remembers her first couple of rebirths, with the earlier centuries of her life being rather blurred. What she does remember however, is the war, a time she has unfortunately attempted to—and failed—to forget.

She lived through the devastating genocide of mythical creatures such as herself. Through it, she had seen close friends and even lovers die before her very eyes. She was frequently separated from the "family" she had forged through the bloodshed. Since she was a phoenix, Aelia was always reborn after each of her deaths. The same could not be said for many of her companions. She has endured torture, abuse, kindness, and sorrow. Among these memories are Alucio. He was one of the Great Commanders of the war. He was also Aelia's lover. Hardly the romantic first meeting, they had met during the war, when Aelia was following under Ewan's army. She had gained Alucio's trust and respect during those times, and eventually they developed affection for one another.

Wars never allow for a happy ending though. While employed under Ewan, she was with his army when they became trapped by the humans and drowned. Ewan and the majority of his soldiers were killed, while the immortal survivor Aeliana was taken prisoner. She was held for many painful years as the humans experimented on her, determined to find a way to try to kill a phoenix and other similarly immortal creatures. By the time Aelia was finally rescued from her imprisonment, Zephyra and Otaktay had already been slain as well and the war was beginning to grow bleak. Even Alucio, who she had remembered as confident and strong, had had his spirit broken. He did not even have the faith left to keep fighting and save himself when the humans had finally cornered him and his army, no matter how much Aelia had begged.

After Alucio's death, the girl had officially lost the will to fight. She quietly disappeared from the war, wandering around aimlessly in search of something even she couldn't define. She has lived a thousand different lives, with a thousand different faces. There was even a time when she was raised by humans, as she tried to erase even the knowledge of being a phoenix from herself. So long as the memories stayed locked up, she could blend in and live a meaningful life as a human surely. But although her mind may have forgotten for a short time, her body still remembered. When humans realized she couldn't burn, her family turned on her and ended her short existence as a human.

Then began the time when humans worshiped her instead. Each life to pass her by has left the woman with a sense of dissatisfaction, leaving her unable to find a lasting sense of happiness.

Mythical Significance: Aeliana is often associated with the Renewing, a celebration of the end of the year as a new year replaces it. It is a week-long holiday, encompassing both the last day of the year and the first day of the year. Due to her status as a fire goddess, The Renewing occurs on the last day of Winter/first day of Spring. Since Aelia is associated most with the colors of white and gold, humans will often wear white and use gold decorations during the Renewing.

A funeral tradition of some kingdoms is to light the body of the deceased aflame, in the belief that the fire will release the soul so that they may be reborn. It is especially preferred for funerals of young children, and parents will often keep the ashes on them after in the hopes that the soul will be reborn into their next child.

As a Sun Goddess, she is closely associated with the Moon in stories. There are debates on if the Sun and Moon are siblings, enemies, lovers, or friends. Aelia's personal favorite interpretation is that they are Dance Partners.

Relationships:

☼ Antero ☼ Aeliana has a bit of a soft spot for Antero. They both went through some pretty hard times together, and it would be hard to pretend she didn't feel some sort of bond for them after all that. Whenever the pressure of her social mask feels too heavy, she likes to seek out Antero's quiet presence. She feels an unspoken understanding between them and is perfectly content to just... sit in silence near them. Don't be mistake though, once the mood passes she will go back to gently teasing them.

☼ Getsuy ☼ Aelia finds Getsuy to be a pitifully cursed existence. She recognizes that she is only able to view him as so due to her privileges as a phoenix, but just as she can't help her deathless nature he cannot help his own nature either. However, she kind of prefers to not be around him if possible. Not out of fear, but because she feels like she has to be the "responsible one" when he's near. Whenever she feels particularly forced into uptaking such a mantle though, she does so with the use of childish distractions. Her behavior may have contributed to stories of the wily trickster goddess who uses pranks to evade death.

☼ Morrigan ☼ She's heard word of Morrigan, but doesn't really know the Banshee all too personally. That being said, there are quite a few popular myths that suggest that Morrigan is her sister who helps lead her through the cycle of Rebirth. Aeliana obviously has to act accordingly. It's because of the humans watching, promise!

☼ Nieve ☼ If Aelia were to speak honestly, Nieve is someone she feels she has to keep safe. But Aelia would never be honest about that. Instead, she finds little excuses here and there to check on the fair selkie. For the most part, she finds her to be pretty capable in her own right, so visits can sometimes seem sparse. Still, Aeliana enjoys when those little moments pop up that show Nieve really is Murdock's niece.

Color: Red Gold - #EB5406
Other: She has quite an impressive collection of shoes, but she has a tendency to be barefoot.

I wanted to put credits for the images, only it turns out that they were all AI images. :/

Name: Roshan Naveed
Title: God of Language, Music, Travel, and Wilderness
Gender/Sex: Male
Age: 1,443
Species: Shadhavar
Information: Shadhavars are rather elegant and peaceful creatures. In their true form, they bear a very similar appearance to gazelles, but are considerably taller. They tend to reach roughly six feet in height, and have white fur with an intricate golden pattern. Otherwise graceful in appearance, their eyes are rimmed by a black streak that travels down their cheeks in a way that resembles tear stains. From the center of their forehead protrudes a single long, delicately twisting horn with 42 strange holes. It is this horn that grants the Shadhavar their unique musical ability. When the wind blows and enters into the hollow point of the horn, it creates a musical sound more beautiful and alluring than a flute. This noise is so enchanting that attracts humans and animals alike, placing them in a calming trance.

The Shadhavars horn is especially hard despite being hollow. It’s comprised of a bony core at the center of the forehead, and is coated in a hard, keratinous sheath that continuously grows around it. The bony center will only grow until a certain point and then stop, but the keratin protein covering will continue growing throughout their entire life. This coating can be shaped and shed to help control its growth, however.

In his homeland, the Shadhavar horn is treated by humans as a valuable musical instrument that should be gifted to kings. As such, most were naturally hunted for this treasure. Shadhavars also value their horns as well, and upon death the horn is to be kept by a family member and eventually buried with that family member upon their death. It is believed that a part of their soul still lingers in the music their horn creates, and as such it is considered a tragedy should the horn by lost or stolen.


Appearance: The most noticeable thing about Roshan’s human appearance is that he is tall, extremely tall. At 6’8”, he easily towers over most crowds. He has a rounded, square chin with high cheekbones, giving his face a distinctively square-ish oval shape. His almond shaped green eyes are framed by a thick rim of dark and delicate eyelashes. Roshan has rather curly black hair that reaches just past his neck, although his hair is usually hidden by a headwear of some type. He prefers to have his bangs brush across his forehead to keep covered an almost star shaped scar. His tendency to wear headscarves and the like originally stemmed from his Shadhavarian culture, although now he wears them simply as a reminder of his old life and to help hide his old injury. He forces himself to wear elaborate fabrics and jewels, as he feels that better fits the appearance of a supposed God, but he'd much rather wear plain cotton button up shirts of some sort with formal pants or a long thawb. He has five strange flutes of various sizes on a string, which he usually wears as a necklace or tied against his waist.

Personality: Roshan tends to come across as cold and harsh at first. He can be rather blunt with his words and seemingly uncaring. He’s quick to remove himself from social situations, seeming as if he’d much rather be alone than with others. However, the truth of the matter is that Roshan is extremely shy. He gets very nervous around others, most especially if they’re human, and tends to blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. As a result, his socially awkward tendencies make him come across as rather rude. He’s much more relaxed around the other gods, but he tends to become tense whenever a human is nearby. He doesn’t seem the nervous type at all, but internally he is very wary and always looking for a way to escape. If left alone with other humans, he has a tendency to start panicking. When he panics, Roshan acts rashly and sometimes violently. He is strongly self preserving by nature, and will do anything to keep himself safe, even from a false threat. However, he is not without guilt in his cowardice, and as such he tends to have a rather low opinion of himself.

He’s a being of social anxiety and a creature of habit. He tends to be very detail oriented. Thus, it’s not unusual for him to start organizing random things, whether it be by size, color, or alphabetically. He feels the need to achieve a certain standard of perfection in every aspect of his work. If even the smallest mistake has been made, he has been known to completely scrap everything and start all over. This specific trait of his is what drives him to seek out a unique name for himself. He’s changed his title several times whenever he learns that another god and him share the same one. Over the years he has gone by the God of Deception, Gold, Hunting, and many other titles.

Roshan’s rather insecure in himself, and often tries to keep out of the other gods’ way. He’s uncomfortable with the idea of posing as a god and being worshiped, especially by humans. He doesn’t like being so noticeable and would prefer to blend quietly into the background, but he knows how important it is for the survival of all supernaturals. However, he tends to be mistake prone, often fumbling and breaking things in his nervousness. Because of his cold outward demeanor, most believe he breaks things on purpose out of boredom or frustration. He’s rather ill-adept at showing his emotions, and would much rather prefer to follow than lead.

History: Roshan is fairly young compared to many of the gods, which means that he did not participate in the Great War between man and monster. However, he was also not born within this country. He lived in a country far across the waters, where the supernatural creatures never discovered the idea of posing as gods. Instead, the humans began using these creatures as power sources or for their own personal needs. Many were hunted and killed, while others were enslaved. Many of the magical species of his land were nearing extinction.

Roshan’s family was no different. They had spent the majority of his childhood on the run, living within the wilderness. They were an unusually large group, large being described as 5 when the number of alive and free supernatural creatures was already harshly diminished. Roshan’s family consisted of his two parents, his sickly grandfather, his younger brother, and himself. Supposedly, his grandmother used to be with them as well, but she had been killed before little Roshan’s earliest memories. The only proof of her existence that the family had left was her horn.

His parents tried to give their sons a happy life, but it was not to be. As his grandfather got older, the man began to deteriorate both physically and mentally. Roshan still remembers hearing his parents nightly whispers, saying that the man was giving up because of the loss of his wife. Then one night, when the boy was only 16, a group of hunters had tracked the family’s camp down in the middle of the night. When they tried to flee, Roshan’s grandfather refused to go with them. No amount of begging and pleading could move him. Fearing that their children would be killed or captured if they wasted any more time, the family left without their grandfather. A few weeks later, Roshan’s parents somehow managed to retrieve his grandfather’s horn, the smell of human blood heavily clinging to them.

Only a few months had passed, when another group of hunters managed to find them. They were captured, their horns broken before they were thrown into cages. Despite being starved and beaten, trapped, and painfully stripped of his most crucial defense, Roshan was able to escape. However, the events that transpired can only be described as tragic.

His parents were already trying to find out how to best escape with their sons during the months that they were caged like animals. They had just set up a plan and were going to prepare it into motion the next night, but unfortunately the group of hunters found themselves peckish. They were running low on provisions and had little to hunt, so they opted for an easier method. Roshan has since been terrified of humans after his father’s murder.

The events left the family of three shaken, but made Roshan’s mother now only more determined to save her sons from the true monsters who had trapped them. The humans developed a particular liking to the woman after her husband’s death, one which she decided to use to her advantage. She let them believe they had broken her, coaxed them into underestimating her so that one night when they took her from their cage they were unprepared. She attacked the hunters, shouting for her sons to run. It was a night of chaos, a nightmare of which only Roshan had been able to survive.

He largely avoided humans since then. He traveled alone for nearly six or seven centuries, hoping to find some place far away from the monsters who took his family from him. His fear and desperation grew so large that when he was once again trapped by another group of hunters, he instead threw himself into the ocean. After many months thinking he was going to die in the salty waves, he was eventually washed up on the shores of a foreign land. Fortunately for him, the person who found Roshan’s unconscious body was a creature acting as a god. It was through them that he too eventually came to do the same.

Mythical Significance: Due to his association as the God of Travel, Roshan is considered the patron of merchants and refugees. However, through that same vein he is also considered the patron of thieves. Many villages have a ritual of beginning a long journey with a song as a way of wishing for safe travels.

As a God of the Wilderness, there is a superstition among hunters that before entering the wild you must pay your respect to Roshan, else he will seek revenge. Paying respects after is considered sometimes forgivable, but believed to carry a risk of failure to appease him.

As a God of Music, his horn has inspired the creation of similarly shaped instruments. The instrument is quite notorious for its difficulty in both creation and mastery.

He is most closely associated with the number 5 (the number of horns he has on his necklace) and the number 42 (the number of holes on each horn, including his own).

Relationships: None yet, but looking to add some! I would love in particular to add either someone that may have found him when he first awashed on shore and needed help adjusting, or someone that may have provided him with some sort of reason to attend the festival this year since he normal avoids these celebrations. Or both!

☼ Antero ☼ Roshan views Antero very highly. He considers them a mentor, even if there are times where their opinions don't entirely align. Roshan was raised to respect his elders and value their wisdom, and there are times where he considers them to be much like a psuedo-grandparent-like figure. Much like a grandchild that is eager to please, Roshan will often go out of his way to preform filial duties.

☼ Getsuy ☼ He is dangerous. Roshan can sense it deeply in his bones. He sees the same look in Getsuy's eyes as that of the hunters that imprisoned him and his family. Roshan normally has more camaraderie for his fellow Gods, but Getsuy is the exception. He doesn't trust him one bit. Any time he senses the Wendigo nearby, he has one of his horns prepped to play an enchanting tune.

☼ Morrigan ☼

☼ Nieve ☼ As the one who first found him when he arrived on this strange new land and helped him establish his role among the humans, Roshan holds a great deal of appreciation and respect for Nieve. Normally reserved and civil, he does worry a bit that she might dislike him at times. As such, he actually prefers it when she attempts to tease him, although his face doesn't really show it. It's those moments that make him think that maybe Nieve actually might consider him a friend as well.

Color: Sage Green - #848B79
Other: The smell of cooked meat makes Roshan incredibly nauseous, as it reminds him of the night his dad died. As such, he is a strict vegetarian.

Roshan has a very slight, undeterminable accent, as his original tongue is the language of his country and therefore unheard of in this new land. He donned the title of God of Language as an attempt to explain his accent, but now that very title has driven him to attempt to learn many more languages, so to uphold himself to an arbitrary standard. His broken horn has regrown over the centuries, but it has a slightly upward curve shape to it.

Name: Amaris Eckhart
Rank: Supervisor/Coordinator/Host/All-rounder
Gender/Sex: Male
Age: 23
Appearance: Amaris is a decently tall young man with a very healthy build. He is fit and strong, with broad shoulders and a square jaw. He has vividly copper hair and growing stubble, along with a decent collection of freckles across his cheeks and back. He has very vibrant blue eyes with ever thoughtfully furrowing brows. He has several tattoos across his body. He has a dragonfly on his neck, a clock on his hands, and several different artistic murals on his chest and back. Most, if not all of his tattoos have some sort of God inspiration or motif attached to them.

Personality: Amaris is currently on a path of self-discovery. He’s not entirely sure who he is or what he wants out of life. He is at his core a confused young man, and that manifests itself in some rather confusing ways.

He tends to switch between his moods with no warning. He can be very jovial and welcoming, easily befriending those he comes across. When he's happy, he becomes rather cheerful and flirty, complimenting anyone and everyone and wanting to start a party. He can be very easy to talk to and honestly quite fun to be around.

But then he suddenly switches. He becomes rather grumpy, pushing company away and preferring to be alone. He can be a bit harsh when like this, as he will usually say hurtful things to others. He doesn't like being told what to do or manipulated.

He doesn't like anything that requires too much effort on his part, but luckily that usually also includes arguing. He may enjoy actively annoying others and bugging them, but he'd much rather walk away from an argument then be around someone he hates. He's more of a passive aggressive type as it is, and rarely acts outrightly aggressive or violent.

However, he has developed quite the anachronistic streak in recent years. All the other human servants believe him to be a responsible leader, but the truth is he would much rather break rules and sow chaos. Deep down, he knows it’s all attention seeking behavior, but he’ll never admit that out loud. He just keeps pushing the boundary, trying to see how far he can get away with things.

History: It took him a long time to realize it, but Amaris has always been burdened by expectations. His family was rather rich and a bit famous, they were the descendants of one of the first Chosens of the Gods you see. So his parents always expected nothing less than the best from him. They wanted perfect intellect, perfect manners, perfect strength. They gave him every opportunity to master every skill they could justify, but then always gave a reason why it was never good enough. As a result of all this, Amaris felt as if he were chasing after something he could never achieve.

After a while, he cracked. He gave up and stopped trying to please his parents. There was always some reason why he still wasn’t perfect enough for them, so why bother trying at all? His parents couldn't have been more furious with him. They retaliated against his rebellion with their own: ignorance. They began to pretend he didn’t exist. Even when he was sitting right at the table with them or hindering them in some way, they would react by not reacting to him at all. He has since gotten into some bad habits to try and get their attention by any means possible, but so far has had no success.

It had been over three years before they finally stopped ignoring Amaris, when he was selected to serve the Gods for the feast. Suddenly, they couldn't be more proud of their son. The attention felt empty to him though, and just infuriated him for some reason. He hadn’t even actually done anything this time, and now he was suddenly their “perfect son” again? Not because of skill or effort, but for sheer luck? In his spiral of anger, he concocted an idea as to how to get back at them. Somehow, some way, he was going to ruin the festival so badly that he becomes a scandal and will besmirch the Eckhart name. He would fail so hard that ignoring his existence wouldn’t even be an option; his presence would forever haunt them.

The first step of his plan? Act perfect.

During training, Amaris was at his absolute best. He was praised by the teachers and trainers, and quickly selected to become one of the Supervisors. He was placed in charge of organizing the other humans with the highest confidence in his abilities. He’s still on his best behavior for now…

Beliefs/Perceptions: Amaris may be an anarchist with a penchant for mischief and chaos now, but he used to be quite the devoted follower of the Gods. He was well read on many of Them, and would display his reverence of Them sincerely.

However, as he began to clash against his parents, his relationship with the Gods has also been affected. He’s found himself questioning how he feels about Them. Does he still care about Them? Should he still care about Them? But most of all, do They even care about him?

For most of his life he truly believed in the Gods’ affection for humans, and returned it with his own. But now? He’s just an insignificant human. Why would They care?

Relationships: None yet, but looking to add some! At this point he should be considered responsible and respectable by his fellow humans. He has taken great care to maintain positive relationships for his goal, even if these relationships are only superficial at best.
Color: Velvet Maroon - #7E354D
Other:The Eckhart family is open to having their Chosen of the God great-great-great-ancestor being claimed by a God character.

While it is Amaris' goal to get fired and kicked off the island by the Gods, it is my goal that he not. I would very much love if all his attempts fail, even better if the Gods actually like his antics.

Name: Antero
Title: God of Fate, Time, and Divination
Gender/Sex: Unknown, projects a masculine voice, but has been known to switch between the many millennia depending on the era and person it speaks to.
Age: 12,001 years, though its true age is unknown to all but it.
Species: Manakin
Information: In all but the rarest of chances or perhaps the greatest example of causality, this creature arose when special minerals imbued with mana began to form a geometric web of thoughts and a consciousness. A soul was formed among the rock and learned and listened, finally gaining mastery over gravitational magic to allow itself to propel itself forward in the first time of its existence. As it is aware, it is a rare entity. Even among the monsters, its species was that of incredible rarity and scarcity. As far as it knows, after the war, it very well could be the last of its kind. They were especially hunted, as those of both monster and human alike desired their immense store of raw, magical power. Only the strongest could fend off the poachers...
Appearance: Antero can take on many different shapes and forms, but they are all of inorganic nature. Its crystalline body is held aloft through gravitational magics, where it may levitate across the ground with graceful ease. In its "comfortable form", many graphite tendrils and spectral observers would float in an almost orbit-like configuration, like the orbits of planets around a star. When presenting itself to humans and other monsters, however, it will reshape itself into a more recognizable form of that of a humanoid. Its many surfaces shine with a polished reflectiveness, the centerpiece appearing as the "head", graphite-like tendrils forming pseudo arms. Finally, a halo of glowing mana crystal would orbit the head like a crown. All of this to ease communication and be of a more "pleasant" shape to human and monster alike, recognizing that its more natural form could and would make either creature uncomfortable.

Personality:Antero's voice echoes wisdom and thoughtfulness, but will often lack emotion in its voice. Though that is not to say it lacks emotion in itself. In fact, despite its incredibly cold appearance and very physical form, Antero is quite passionate about its fixations. Antero is a simple creature who seeks to observe, learn, and be ultimately left alone. It does not mind companionship, will not bristle with outright hostility, but belies the ever-evolving drama of the gods and humans alike with great distaste. Sees such things as unnecessary distractions and frustrations that could have been avoided altogether.

As such, Antero can seem to have a persistent, almost smug outward tone towards its peers. You can almost hear the "I told you so" behind every sentence, every word, as it patiently tries to lecture both gods and humans alike about what should have been done instead. Antero is not ignorant of the social nuances of relationships or culture; in fact, Antero is quite knowledgeable of the latter, but absolutely refuses to waste its time with double meanings and dramanomics. Ironic, as those who worship it always seem to have five thousand interpretations of its words.

Thus, to its godlike peers, Antero is a blunt creature with a trusting sense of superiority and smugness in its words. But to those who see past this exterior and develop true friendship, they will find a deep caring for all life, one who mourns the death of culture, gods, and people alike, and is well and truly exhausted by its long, long life.

History: When it first emerged from the rock, the great depths of long forgotten caves, it had already wandered the endless, maze-like caverns for generations. It mapped. It studied. It learned. Absorbing the mana below, it continued until one fateful day, it emerged into the land above. Before it, a world larger and teeming with more possibilities than it could have ever known from the dark depths of the caves. It wandered among the many forests, the great fields, the blowing deserts.

It wondered. It wandered. It learned.

It stared up at the stars with awe and studied them to predict the ever-changing heavens. It stared intently for a hundred years at a single piece of moss, growing upon a boulder, watching the life that developed all around. And then, among the violence of magma and rock, where it dutifully noted how the cooling would create new minerals, it met its first "cousin". A being, like it, made of minerals and mana, not carbon and water. Alucio The Cherufe, a creature of magma.

An annoyance.

A nuisance.

It's first friend.

And it continued to wander, now given a name. Antero held this name as an oddity, a curiosity. It wandered, it met with other creatures. Saw their cultures spread and grow. Asked questions, given answers. For a time, it was a curiosity to these creatures as much as they were to it. Humans, they eventually called themselves. At first, Antero could study them up close, live among them. Sometimes, it would disguise itself as an unassuming pile of rubble and observe for a hundred years. Othertimes, it would trade its knowledge for more, be invited into the towns and villages, teach, and in doing so, learn.

It was a fascinating time. An interesting time.

A painfully brief time.

Soon, it was not allowed into those towns. Creatures began to set upon each other with violence it had never witnessed. It was no stranger to the nature of violence. In the great chasms of the abyss to the peaks of exploding volcanoes, it had seen all manner of violence. Yet, creatures began to set upon each other with violence it had never seen. And soon, that violence was directed at itself. Ravenous magi, "Witches", they were called. Sought his accumulated power. Other monsters also desired his own "flesh" to empower themselves.

It fought. It killed. It wept.

The war had begun, and it elected to hide. Sequester itself atop the highest of peaks to avoid this horrible conflict altogether. It saw all of this as meaningless slaughter, a waste of precious life. A total destruction of history. But then, the first friend came. Alucio The Cherufe sought Antero, desired its wisdom, magic power, and its companionship in this war.

It hesitated. It agreed. It regretted.

The war was terrible. Uncountable lives lost. Many more spirits broken. It studied strategy and battles won and lost. It advised its friend on the course of action, trying to find a golden path through the many paths of destruction. Yet, as the war waged on, its predictions continued to come back to the same fate. It did not want to acknowledge this fate. For the first time in its life, it lied to itself about this fate, that it could be avoided. If just the right battle could be won, the right act of diplomacy, the right leader.

It could not save its friend.

Thus, as the inevitable drew near and Antero could no longer ignore it, it told its friend his final fate. To its shock, Alucio accepted his fate. He would die as he would, and Antero would escape the battle. If it was fated to lose its friend in life, it would preserve its friend in death. The memories would be the only way to save what was left. After the great defeat, it vowed to never forget any who were lost. Not monster, not human, not anyone. All would be preserved, so that this war would not be destruction in totality.

It fled. It hid. It mourned.

In the millennia following, Antero sequestered itself upon a tall mountain. It built a memorial there to honor the fallen and to quietly mourn. It would idly study the stars and feel adrift in the ever-flowing tides of fate. Never, in its many thousands of years of life, had it ever felt so alone.

And then, visitors. For the first time, humans had finally managed to reach the peak of their mountain. It prepared to flee, not wanting to end more of these pitiful creatures' lives, but instead, they prostrated themselves in worship upon finding him. They begged for aid, not caring or even knowing of the Great War, only seeing a divine being that could levitate the very rock around it. Confused, intrigued, and with much trepidation, it began to acknowledge these humans. It aided them, providing life-saving knowledge that avoided a famine. It predicted the times of rain and drought, allowing them to prepare, and as a result, their fledgling civilization in the valley below grew.

It divined. It lectured. It was worshipped.

And thus the farce began, and its myth grew.

Mythical Significance:
Antero tried to explain the nature of its being, despising this "worship". But soon, it had little choice. The reemergence of the "monsters" pressured it into playing along. So, if it were forced to play the role, it would at least set the terms. Priests of its temple would pass down its "divine revelations" to the people below. Predictions of rain, of disaster, and so on were given, and the humans quickly began to venerate their god. But worship was kept at a tendril's length.

It created a temple of knowledge, wisdom, and study. Members of the Anterian Temple and its priests do not proselytize, and are, in fact, almost as shut in as their god. Instead, they act to only better their communities with knowledge and learning as well as direct them via their god's holy divination scrolls. Small temples would be built in the neighboring communities and would be satellites of Antero's Peak, a large fortress monastery atop a great mountain. The upper levels and the peak of the mountain are forbidden holy ground, where it is said the very god itself resides. The lower levels are where those who are picked for their wisdom and curiosity are sent to learn and study under the High Priests of the temple. Messengers would make the treacherous ascent to the very edge of the forbidden ground, where they would receive the divination of Antero.

Members of the Antero Temple of Divination are known to be somewhat reserved but generally knowledgeable and helpful towards others. They are fairly tolerant of other temples and ensure their practices do not interfere with others. They celebrate days of the Full Moon and New Moon, as days of fasting, reflection, and observance of the stars. These practices were never directly dictated by Antero, but merely reflective of its nature. It seems the god's passion for the stars has rubbed off on its followers.

Relationships: To be Determined
Color: 1a98c3
Other: Antero knows that this disguise of gods will not last forever, but puts up the act under threat and fear of its fellow gods. Antero hates it and has tried time and time again to convince its peers that this will backfire in their faces, but to no success. Antero attends this festival out of obligation, not pleasure.

Name: Getsuy
Title: God of Death, Decay, The Hunt, and Hunger
Gender/Sex: He is a male but most people just refer to him as It.
Age: Ancient, was around before the war began
Species: Wendigo
Information: The Wendigo is a creature of unquenchable hunger. Born from desperation and starvation, a human becomes a wendigo when they have no choice but to feast on the flesh of their own kin. The wendigo is a beast always on the cusp of starvation. Their metabolism is so quick that they must eat continuously or else lose themselves to the vicious hunger within. Because of this quick metabolism, they have a very impressive healing capability along with enhanced sense, strength, and agility. They have also developed a gift for voice mimicry so they can lure in more prey to forever fuel the hunger within. Wendigos are essentially immortal but not invulnerable. Despite their impressive healing capabilities, there are ways you can kill such a creature. Fire is found to be the best answer to a wendigo. The flames continuously burn away any new tissue that may arise from their healing factor and eventually the Wendigo dies of starvation as they burn off any proteins within them to continue healing.

Wendigos are very territorial. They refuse to share their territory with any other kind of hunter, let alone another Wendigo. When two wendigos encounter each other, it always results in a brutal fight to the death. Sometimes these fights can take a few days or even up to a week with the creatures hunting and stalking each other until one is slain by the other.

Thankfully, Wendigos are not always hunger driven. As they age and grow, they can learn to diminish their hunger to a degree, allowing humanity to once more peek through. However, it takes centuries for a Wendigo to finally sate their hunger in such a way and very few survive that long, usually dying in fights for territory. There are very few Wendigos in existence and even less that have any connection with their humanity.

Also, Wendigos reek of death. You can smell one coming to you from a distance.

Appearance: Getsuy was always the living embodiment of death. His feral form is a quadrupedal, emaciated beast that towers over normal humans. Grey skin pulled tight against bones and muscles, there is not an ounce of fat on his body. Sharp bone spikes run along his spine and end at the base of his tail. He is hairless except for the large mane that begins at the base of his skull and extends along his long neck. His face is that of a deer skull with sharp teeth and large antlers. His eyes glow silver, like the moon, and his voice is deep and raspy as if a voice calling out from within a grave.

Everywhere he went, people would flee. Just his very stench was enough to chase off any mortal that didn't wish to see him dead. Even during the war, his appearance meant the end for all dying or dead upon the battle field. However, as he grew older and reconnected with his humanity, he took a human like form. Gone was his quadrupedal posture, replaced with a bipedal one. He kept his claws on his hands, though his feet were reverted back to human. His unnaturally long arms and gaunt appearance could not be changed, a constant remind of the hunger that dwells within. And lastly, his deer skull remained as well, with his antlers rising out from the sides of his head. Though this appearance was far better than his primal visage, it was still uncomfortable to gaze upon. With his stench, glowing white eyes and skulked head, he was quite the being to see- and fear.

Personality: When he was young, Getsuy cared for no one or thing. All he knew was the constant hunger. As he grew older and developed more civilized thinking, only then did he begin to develop a real personality once again.

He's a loner. Not many can stand his stench, let alone try to communicate with him. He does not have the instinctual need to meet and befriend people. He does not want a family or kin. He simply wants to survive and eat. When he does speak, it is usually in short concise sentences.

He had lost his humanity long ago and even though there is a slight sliver of it within his soul, he cannot bring himself to understand human nature. They grieve for the dead. He would not grieve for food. They help each other and grow together. He is territorial and kills any of his kind he may find. They show compassion towards living things. All he sees is food. He understands that his thinking is different from those around him but he could not bring himself to care. On particular days where his hunger is lower than normal, you may find him more personable, though those days seem to be left behind long ago after the agreement he made to not hunt the larger, more intelligent magical species. Now he more lurks within the shadows, constantly on the lookout for those he could devour.

He is rarely seen within human civilization, only arriving upon a summon and usually the summon ends in disaster for any that might have called to him. He cannot find himself within civilization because when he looks upon those humans before him, all he sees are snacks and though he is better and more controlled, even one who spent a decade feasting on the finest meat will eventually turn to easy food if it is presented to them in such quantities.

History: Getsuy could not tell you what life was like before be transformed into the Wendigo. For a long time, all he ever knew was hunger. His territory was quickly dwindling with prey to feast upon and when the war began, he found himself in a particular situation. He could eat all he liked and people were too focused on surviving to stop him.

Feasting upon the bodies of the slain on those bloody grounds of the war, he acquired a name, Death's Shadow. Once he arrived upon the battlefield, it meant the end to all injured, dead, or dying. He would not stop, could not stop and the battlegrounds were an open buffet to him. He cared not who won. All he saw was food.

After years of devouring the fallen, he began to get a sense back within. The hunger wasn't sated but it was diminished. For the first time in decades, he could think once more on things other than what would feed him next. He recognized that the war would eventually come to an end so he had to find a way to cling to this meager shard of humanity. He took his time to learn what fed him better, spent his resources hunting down larger and larger prey. Eventually he found that magical beings were the ones who filled him the most. Perhaps it was the magic within them, or their sheer size; he could not possibly understand why just that they did. So that is what he began to hunt. After the war ended, he stopped hunting smaller prey completely and focused his attention on the larger, magical beings who would keep his hunger at bay.

Because of that meager link to civilization, he could finally be reasoned with, though his thoughts were still very primal. An agreement was met. He would not hunt the more powerful magical beings and keep to the smaller, less intelligent ones and he would not be hunted in return. Eating the smaller beings was not nearly as efficient for his hunger but he was cognitive enough to know that it was what had to be done. If he continued to hunt and feed on the more powerful magical beings, it would only be a matter of time before they gathered themselves and hunted him instead.

By the time he was cognitive enough to know what was happening around him, he discovered that he had acquired the unflattering name. He didn't personally care but the name stuck and when monsters began to take the title of gods, his title was thrust upon him. No one else wanted it and there had to be dark gods to counterbalance the good. After all, Death comes for us all.

Mythical Significance: There are stories told to the children of humans to keep them away from the dark and shadowy places. They were told that if they wandered off too far, Getsuy would capture them and devour them alive.
Relationships: He is a lone wolf. He doesn't even have servants because of his tendency to devour them only a few days within his service.
Color: A dark crimson red- #883d39
Other: Getsuy doesn't have a place of power or a temple. He roams aimlessly, constantly following the hunger within. He does, however, make an appearance within the realm of the gods whenever servants are assigned and presented. They have stopped giving him his own after the first decade or so of him devouring them but he still finds it interesting to see which humans would be assigned to who. Perhaps it is a remnant of his human nature making itself known from time to time but he can't help his curiosity.

Name: Isander "Zan" Ashford ("eye-SAN-der")
Rank: Servant (duties include serving/cleaning; aspires to become a gardener after realizing how much he misses being outdoors)
Gender: Male
Age: 17
Appearance: Zan stands at a shorter height of 5'7" with a lean physique and light complexion tanned from working the fields. He has short, medium brown hair with messy curls, brown eyes that appear amber in the sunlight, and a light blanket of freckles adorning his cheeks and nose. He has a youthful voice that embodies warmth and, if spoken to, will sometimes stammer or ramble if he's nervous.

Prior to joining the Chosen ones, his attire was consistent with commoners - fabrics of linen and cotton, clothing made for practicality and durability rather than fashion. As a servant to the Gods, his outfits now conformed with the others serving in similar roles.

Personality: Isander is inherently friendly and optimistic, always sporting a smile and choosing to believe the best in people. Full of good intentions, he can be brave to a fault - his courage often manifesting in split-second decisions that reflect his impulsiveness to do right by others. He is guided by a set of principles that encourage protecting those who can't protect themselves and offering aid to those who need it, even if it risks putting himself in harm's way.

Despite his desire to help others, Zan isn't a warrior and tries to find peaceful solutions whenever possible; with that being said, he's never actually been put into a position where he's had to resort to violence.

His high energy mixed with his anxiety often make him a disaster waiting to happen, which only reinforces his resolve to do his best at every task presented to him.

History: Isander grew up in a small, insignificant farming village off the coast. He was the second oldest out of four siblings; however, when his oldest brother passed away a year ago pursuing the prestige of knighthood, Zan took on the role of the eldest surviving child. Losing his brother left a heavy burden on Zan, who was expected to somehow pick-up the mantle left behind.

That was when his future became unclear - his driving purpose had always been to take over responsibility of their farm once his father was no longer capable but, struggling to make ends meet, their land was already at risk without another source of income. It was from this weight on his shoulders that led him to pursue the once-in-a-lifetime chance to serve the Gods. Unfortunately for Zan, it had been a desperate act of folly and with so many competing for the distinction, his name was never called.

His determination led him to one last-ditch effort - he set off for the island on his own, following behind the carriages until he was able to blend in with those selected as they boarded the vessel to the Palace of the Gods. Whether through luck or divine intervention, Zan's presence wasn't questioned and his missing name off the manifest was assumed to be a simple clerical error.

Beliefs/Perceptions: Having lived his entire life in a community humbled by the Gods, Zan was raised at an early age to believe in their power and might. He was taught stories of their benevolence as well as the ones about their wrath.

He still carried around a childhood fear of Getsuy, the God of Death, who was often depicted as a devourer of flesh with a preference for the bones of children.

Relationships: N/A (open to adding)
Color: Gold [#ba8e20]
Other: N/A