[CHAR] Godspeed!

[Antarctic Termite]

Mater Lei

Mater Lei

Concierge of the Gods

'What then of your horns, o Mater? What are they?'

'The perfect excuse to blast doors I don't feel like opening.'

Dᴏᴍᴀɪɴ & Pᴏʀᴛꜰᴏʟɪᴏ

██████ (██████ | ██████ | ██████)

While Lei's Domain is a mystery, much is known of her portfolios. The most obvious involves automata, beings of clockwork and coiled springs, which she creates effortlessly and in great number. Another is strongly linked to books of fiction, of which she has a nearly limitless supply, and the contents of which she can realise as simulacra, forming not-quite illusory flora and fauna from words on a page. The third involves powerful transmutative magic, especially of her own body and environment.

Aʟɪɢɴᴍᴇɴᴛ

Chaotic Neutral

Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ

Lei likes to be fancy. Not act fancy, just be fancy. Fond of dramatic entrances, an aura of untouchable smugness pervades most of what she does, which is usually exactly what you don't want her to do. Life's a game, when you're the Mater, and it's easy to get the impression that she wears her masks purely to hide the fact that she's teetering on the edge of laughing at you.

With all the petty spite of someone who enjoys tripping up passerby with her cane, Mater Lei placidly denies or subverts every request placed on the position she's been entrusted with, and happily cheats, tricks and lies her way through godly transactions. Fortunately, she's not malicious, and will bow out and call quits before she involves herself with serious trouble. Lei also tends to be polite, even helpful, especially in things of little (or extraordinary) consequence.

For all her easygoing strut, Lei isn't entirely secure in herself. She hides her anger well, but not perfectly, and fears both her task and her pantheon. She tells herself that she is safe, and can usually believe it, but there's only so much she can do. She fears, also, that someone may eventually see her face.

She also attends a lot of balls.

Gᴏᴀʟs

It is Mater Lei's belief, informed or otherwise, that the gods must be both the sole and the sovereign rulers of the universe. There can be no great power outside them, nor may any great power surpass them. For this reason, Lei guards the Vault from which the gods emerged and to which they may return, such that none of her nieces and nephews in the pantheon may wield power other than their own.

Lei isn't particularly stringent about this, though. The Door tends to stay perfectly well closed of its own accord, and she's known to let the pantheon loan or make use of other oddities in the Vault in order to perform feats that may otherwise have been beyond them, such as creating planets, travelling time, or altering the fundamental properties of the universe. The costs of operating such oddities are high, but so long as Lei doesn't have to pay it herself, she doesn't particularly care either. Her primary goal, after all, is simply to have a grand old time.

Aᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ

Lei seldom changes form, but regularly her costume. From formal to semi-formal to casual*, Lei always has some outfit up her sleeve for the occasion, usually in the gold-grey-red colour scheme she's addicted to. She wears human flesh often, usually stealing the body of whichever pretty mortal girl she last ran into who happened to be wearing her colours*, sometimes returning it later and often keeping it (and the girl) for herself as an attendant. When the need arises to be small, she takes the form of a serpent.

All of Lei's faces are masks, made or stolen one way or another. In this way, though she may be highly expressive when she wants to be, her insecurities remain securely bound up inside her.

Lei's avatars are two, and rather different: Malkut, the radiant automaton, is a powerful being born of her more diligent side, not so prone to travel; and Alto, the harpy, is a lazy wanderer. These twin sons almost never appear in the same place, and generally keep to themselves.

Lei's dresses are innumerable, and rumour has it her wardrobe is a major demiplane.

Mᴜsɪᴄᴀʟ Tʜᴇᴍᴇ

---

*Models photographed are Choi Sora and Ikebana Katsu, respectively.

Annals of Mater Salma Lei, Fourth Hand of Fate

[Kho]

𝔖𝔢𝔦𝔥𝔡𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞

Seihdhara of the Red Hair, The Crimson Goddess, The Bear Mother

Seihdhara's Creations

Sign of the Warrior

Cʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ sʜᴇᴇᴛ

ℌ𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔪𝔢 𝔬𝔯 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔪𝔢 𝔞𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔭𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔢 - ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔢, 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔩𝔢𝔰𝔰, 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔰𝔢𝔢.

𝔖𝔢𝔦𝔥𝔡𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞

Seihdhara of the Red Hair, The Crimson Goddess, The Bear Mother

FEMALE

Tʜᴇ Sᴏᴜʟ Rᴇꜰʟᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ, Oɴ A Gʟɪꜱᴛᴇɴɪɴɢ Bʟᴀᴅᴇ, A Gʀᴇᴇɴ Eyᴇ Pᴇᴩᴩᴇʀᴇᴅ Bʀᴏᴡɴ

^{Above all else, I am a Warrioress
===============================
To Live is to Love. To Love is to Struggle. To Struggle is to Defy. To Defy is to Repel. To Repel is to Fight.
===============================
What am I here for, you ask? I am here for you.
===============================
I have this uncanny capacity to feel - it's really quite stunning.
===============================
I'm not wroth. You say that one more time AND YOU WATCH!
===============================
Ok, fine, maybe I sometimes have a bit too much fun- oh who am I kidding, you can't have too much fun. And hey, it's not like I'm hurting anyone. Quite the opposite, actually.
===============================}

• Dᴏᴍᴀɪɴ & Pᴏʀᴛꜰᴏʟɪᴏ

  War (Martial Combat)
  
  Wars come in different forms and sizes, from military hostilities to economic warfare to political manoeuvrings between factions and individuals, and beyond. Ultimately, however, it is a state of hostile competition between different groups. It is a method of repelling some people by means of others, and for Seihdhara it is a legitimate (sometimes the only) way to prevent and combat injustice. Seihdhara's focus is primarily on this hostile competition when it manifests itself in displays of physical force and violence. Any war of this nature will require individuals with a certain level of martial skill to engage in combat so as to attain victory. Martial Combat thus lies at the heart of military warfare, and it is this that Seihdhara seeks to teach and cultivate. Martial Combat includes armed and unarmed forms of combat, as well as the base bodily strength and health required for optimal performance. Moreover, for Seihdhara Martial Combat does not only involve the skills necessary to defeat opponents, it also involves principles of how such skill is to be used, against whom, and under what conditions. While not fussed by arbitrary notions of honour, clemency and seeking to prove one's martial prowess fairly, blow-for-blow, are more to her liking.
• Aʟɪɢɴᴍᴇɴᴛ

  Neutral Good
• Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ

  Headstrong, Independent, Stubborn, Kind, Sensitive, Loving, Merciful, Altruistic, Benevolent, Caring, Protective, Charismatic, Athletic, Assertive, Polyamorous, Passionate, somewhat Volatile, Courageous, Petty, Competitive, Dominating, Emotional, Lively, Rebellious, Adventurous, Romantic, Astute, Disorganised
  
  Seihdhara is - don't you dare tell anyone! - a bit... well, very ticklish. But you better not try anything or she'll actually bash your head in. For real. She'll kill you. Don't tickle her.
  She does enjoy a good laugh though - has a good sense of humour, if she says so herself. A light-hearted story with plenty of jokes is right up her alley and is sure to garner more than a few laughs from her.
  
  

  'While travelling once, I happened on two jimmies - one from Agnee, and another from Shasha. The jimmy from Agnee asked me why people foreign to these villages thought that those Shashans who travelled were jimmies of learning, while those Agneeds who did were not. I turned to him and said, 'well, only fools leave Agnee; as for Shasha, only fools would stay!' Now the Shashan - not too bright a jimmy, truth be told - said I was right about Shashans because, he said, every jimmy that wants to leave Shasha is tested by its chief before he can leave, to make sure he is well-read and canny. If he fails, he's not allowed to leave, but has to go back to his studies. If he wants to leave again, the chief repeats the test; but if he is tested a third time, and then found lacking, he is never allowed to leave Shasha. And so, says this Shashan jimmy to me, none but the canniest and most well-read can leave Shasha. So I turned to him sharp like and said, 'I see - then you must've been smuggled!'

  
  
  Despite her terminological idiosyncrasies, Seihdhara is for the most-part articulate, even if that does not translate into prose poetry. She is expressive and can be charismatic, though her quick smile and readiness to laugh at a good joke quickly tear up any impression of distant genius or esoteric mystery. She is unafraid of exposure in that regard.
  
  When angry or irritated, Seihdhara is quick to slap or thwack the cause of her irritation. She is not vengeful and does not see a reason to hide how she is feeling. She is, however, sensitive to the emotions of others and would regulate her own words and actions as appropriate. While she may yell or strike out when angry, her anger dissipates as quickly as it arises. She is not prone to retreating into herself or being sombre for long periods. This is much the case with all her emotions - she feels intensely in the moment and has no qualms sharing that with whoever is available (whether joy, misery, melodramatic crying session, or what have you). This willingness to expose her emotions does not come from a place of weakness, however. It emerges from the conviction that, ultimately, no one can truly use these emotions against her - anyone who thinks they can would quickly come to realise that she can deal with them quite efficiently. She is, after all, an apex predator, she harms and is not harmed, protects and has no need for protection, renders kindness and asks none for it, frees and can never herself be unfree.
  
  Though gods usually do not - or even, cannot - sleep, Seihdhara chooses to. Sleep comes easy to her, and she will sleep for long hours on end in comfort. A goddess, she can awaken instantaneously and be alert if the need arises, though when there is no such danger force of habit makes her slow to awaken and somewhat petty in the half-hour or so after she has risen. She does not like sleeping alone and will tend to find something to hug - a rock, some animal, or a sentient mortal, preferably a pretty jimmy, though a quinie'll do just fine. Seihdhara doesn't discriminate.
  
  In the same way, Seihdhara is a big eater despite gods having no need for any kind of sustenance. She doesn't much care about what exactly she is eating and will gulp down just about anything placed before her. She's also something of a compulsive gambler, which is no issue given her divine nature - it's pretty much cheating. As a point of principle, however, she only swindles swindlers - they deserve it!
  
  Some terminological idiosyncrasies:
  Mother - mammeh
  Father - pappeh
  Boy - boyo | lad | laddy
  Girl - lass | lassy
  Man - jimmy
  Woman - quinie
• Aᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ

  Image

  

  
  She generally takes on the form of a tall, well-built woman. Her hair shifts from dark, sunset orange to a deep, red-brown. Her eyes too shift, from a light green peppered with turquoise and elements of darker green, to a very light honey-like brown. Her complexion is generally olive and freshly-sun-kissed due to her being frequently out and about. Muscular enough to look fairly robust and like she means business in a fight (which she does, and you better know it).
  
  She's no stunner, but smiling comes easily to her - a broad, hearty smile, flashing teeth, that quite easily explodes into a laugh - and she has a pretty enough face (and given her tendency to rolls about in the hay with whoever strikes her fancy, it helps). Her athletic physique is an unabashed celebration of power, sensuality, and the primed feminine form. She flies in the face of the petite, shy, helpless, and virginal little girl (literally, she dwarves near anybody). It makes her less woman more monstrosity in the eyes of some - but what does she care for them?
  
  She sports a tattoo on her back, perfectly in the middle, beginning just below her shoulder blades its centre along her spine, and stopping short of her tailbone. She has another on her periumbilical region representing a mother bear. On the back of her left hand is the Sign of the Warrior, while the palm of her right hand sports the Sign of the Mother.
  
  She tends to be dressed in a loosely tied sleeve-less leather jerkin and a kilt, both light brown to orange. Her hair is a mess of tousled tresses while others have various beads and bits of jewellery tied into them. When necessary, she ties it back in a rough bun to keep it out of her eyes and face. When she actually takes the time to take care of herself properly, she gets to braiding it. Mortal icons of her tend to depict her with long braided hair. When staying in the company of mortals, Seihdhara has no issues with conforming with more conservative dress codes - this is not out of any respect for arbitrary laws or customs or whatnot, she just enjoys getting into the ways and clothes of whoever she happens to be staying with. A simple necklace of red and yellow beads hangs at her neck.
• Oᴛʜᴇʀ

  'Red-haired Folk', as they are known, are those born with red hair or fur, or whose hair or fur abruptly or gradually turns red. Such folk, it is generally known, are favoured by Seihdhara and are marked out from their earliest days as future warriors of renown. Likewise, all Heroes of Seihdhara are red-haired, and those who join any Order dedicated to her can expect for their hair - if it is not already - to become red.

  
  
  

  
• Mᴜsɪᴄᴀʟ Tʜᴇᴍᴇ

Sign of the Mother

[Lauder]

Here comes the boom

Kikoquatl

^{The Great Devourer}

Dᴏᴍᴀɪɴ & Pᴏʀᴛꜰᴏʟɪᴏ

Hunger (Energy)

Kikoquatl’s domain of hunger is exactly that, she hungers in a very physical sense in that she can and will eat just about anything to try and satisfy herself, even if it comes into conflict with other gods. While it is a driving force behind her, what it does is simply what one would imagine when it comes to hunger. This hunger gives her drive, a meaning to existence as she fights for herself.

To eat is to convert that matter into energy and thrive. Kikoquatl can manipulate this energy, whether it be heat, electrical, or some other form of energy. It is important to realize, however, that not all energy is used within her, at least not in the way she wants it to be. While she can control energy, it is never 100% efficient, not because she is limited by anything but simply because some energy is always lost somehow. It is really annoying to her, and when she gets annoyed, she eats.

Aʟɪɢɴᴍᴇɴᴛ

Neutral

Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ

While she may be neutral and the likes, Kikoquatl is only neutral because she simply does not care about other gods, their creations, and so forth. In fact if one were to put a number on how much she cares cares, it would be a negative number. It is that way because she views almost everything as food, yes, even rocks, shut up. However, that isn’t to say that is all what she is about, she is lazy. Kiko does not want to use up any more energy than she has to, viewing it as a crime to have to go out of her way and waste energy.

That being said, Kikoquatl is extremely polite, in fact it would probably be one her main selling points if anyone were to label her as a “waifu”. She doesn't like to be rude, viewing it as a sin and outright uncalled for. This is for no particular reason as well, it’s just how she is.

Additionally, if it wasn’t apparent, Kikoquatl is a shy one. Despite being a Devourer, she does not handle social interactions very well, finding it hard to talk to something and that eating it is much easier, but it would be rude to eat the thing in the middle of the conversation. Her antisocial behavior stems from a sort of disliking of herself and having to constantly eat, it is strange thing to believe but she is unhappy that she eats and eats because she is unhappy.

Aᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ

There are two primary forms that Kikoquatl takes, her more polite “I’ll talk” form and her no-table-manners “Everything is food” form.

Her polite form is that of an insectoid, standing approximately nine feet tall. Her carapace is milky white and she has wings that just out the side of her abdomen. Kikoquatl has six limbs in this form, two pairs of arms and a singular pair of legs. Given that it is hard to express herself emotively in this form, she tends use body language to get her mood across or simply vocalize it, whichever is easiest or fits.

She does not bother with clothing, she has her carapace for that nor does she see the value of it. That said, she is a dainty thing, even though she is tall. But for a god, form means little, though her thinness is probably for a high metabolism or she genuinely chooses to be like that, nobody knows.

Next is her massive worm form, with a singular mouth with hundreds upon hundreds of rows of teeth, Kikoquatl is a force to be reckoned with in this form. Her carapace is is blackened, symbolically so as this is her more “evil” form. Furthermore, this form has hundreds of legs as well, sometimes it doesn’t if she feels like burrowing into the ground. That is all.

Other

It is likely that she may be somebody’s waifu. Perhaps if a Heartworm affected her, she would would feel some form of love.

Mᴜsɪᴄᴀʟ Tʜᴇᴍᴇ

Creations of the Hungry One

[Pyromaniacwolf]

Gremju the Challenger

"Inspiration is found in the darkest of moments."

Gremju

the challenger

Male even if most of the forms he takes do not really make it distinct

Dᴏᴍᴀɪɴ & Pᴏʀᴛꜰᴏʟɪᴏ

Challenge(Madness)

Grumju seeks to make things as great as they possibly can be with the use of challenge and difficulty, to this end he will taunt and deceive leaders into wars, push scholars to the brink of madness to cure their mind block(or perhaps give them mind block in the first place to see them overcome it) or curse priests with sinful thoughts as a challenge to test their devotion. To him , madness seems the best way to do this currently. Surely the winner of a madness induced riot will be the strongest? A artist sent to the depths of insanity will surely produce something far more interesting than any sane mind and a hunter who can wrestle a beast to death with his bare hands is obviously highly capable. To mortals he may seem to drain their sanity with his very presence, from there those that hear his whispers will be tested in a battle of wills, the weak submitting to him but the strong staving off his maddening whispers. He may often even make nature itself pose as his challenge by goading the earth into suffocating plant life or local predators to become more aggressive.

Aʟɪɢɴᴍᴇɴᴛ

Chaotic Neutral

Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ

Grumju could easily be described as insane due to his behavior however he would see himself as a perfectionist,he giggles in glee at the failings of others but will just as easily applaud them for their success. He is fascinated by his fellow Gods along with their creations and delights in how they deal with problems. To this end he is happy to assist his fellow God's in their own projects but also takes great joy in presenting challenges to them after their project is complete to test it. He is not generally jealous or petty and will rarely hold a grudge if his plots are ruined. Grumj loathes cheaters and thinks that they are dull, why ruin all the fun for something as trivial as victory? Even if a challenge he set himself was to wipe out his own creations, he would prefer to let them be destroyed and start anew than 'cheat' and continue working with a weak creation. Simply put, Grumju is a gleeful little troublemaker who would see the greatest of the God's creations be pushed forwards through difficulty and innovation.

Gᴏᴀʟs

Grumju wishes to push mortal things (and to a lesser degree his own fellow deities) into greatness through the innovation that can only be found in great difficulty. He would ravage weak civilizations with pestilence and madness to push them closer to greatness. If they all die? No matter, he can always allow a new civilization to form and try again at a later date and perhaps even assist the creator of their race in making them even closer to perfection.He is just as happy to challenge individuals on a personal basis if they take his notice, bestowing blessings paired with strange curses and observing how they conquer the challenge set before them.

Aᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ

While Grumju may take the form of anything from a swarm of locusts to a stone statue, he usually appears in the form of a small impish creature with horns protruding from his head and a mouth full of razor sharp teeth that always seem to on show thanks to a taunting grin.

Appearance

Mᴜsɪᴄᴀʟ Tʜᴇᴍᴇ

youtu.be/FcEizDACxNk

Creations

[Carbonatter]

Faliir

Faliir

The Empowering Brightness

Male

Dᴏᴍᴀɪɴ & Pᴏʀᴛꜰᴏʟɪᴏ

Heroics (Empowerment)

Heroics give rise to empires, to peace and justice when all seems for naught, risking what they have and then some for their views. Instead of cowering away they face against adversaries with bravery, ingenuity or strength. Heroes aren't deserving of their titles for memely being granted them, it is their actions that separate them from the many. A heroic act may come from one not appointed as a god's hero, a farmer boy of a wolf could show bravery in the face of an enemy or villain.

Heroism and self sacrifice carries hurdles that must be overcome before any action can be done. Without the strength to push many give up before even beginning the struggle, the fight. This is where Faliir can aid, gifting clarity to those drowning in fear, movement to those in shock, bravery to those who cry. The newfound strength to carry on.

Aʟɪɢɴᴍᴇɴᴛ

Neutral Good

Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ

Faliir is a logical being rather than an emotional one. He uses what exists of his emotions to form his morality - a gray one that he does not stray from and ironic how his mindset may seem, it prevents him from acting rash or ineffective. Perhaps preventing his from intervening where he may be of no use or where he may sully the land and people. Happy to commune, he enjoys debating with any and all creatures he is able to - with a life based around supplying mortals it seems immature to ignore their views or whims, though that is also up for debate. Ever without optimism this being is willing to fight for mortal creatures and their right to exist as a species, treating all with sympathy.

With others of the divine realm he prefers mutual understandings rather than devout loyalty within arguments or plans - hoping that others may offer advantages to use. If he is unable to gain a benefactor from a Deity he will either view you as a neutral party, a necessary evil or a villain in the most extreme circumstances.

Gᴏᴀʟs

A simple ideal; Faliir wishes to aid those without the strength themselves to fight back, as long as he agrees with their plan or morals.

Aᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ

Faliir takes the form of a human, nude with the exception of a brown pelt kilt else clad in a white tunic and calf-length trousers. Regardless of attire he will be found without feet garments.

Faliir's hair is a light brown with tips blond, he has a braid of several strands which runs down the further-right side of his head, reaching his shoulder. His hair is unkempt, long and points in all directions. Apart from this and his darkened lines of skin along his arms and uppee chest, there are no characteristic that differentiate Faliir from a human - if they were to exist. He is slightly taller than most and he appears to be well built with broad shoulders. Eyes of brown, a mellow voice and perfectly white teeth.

Mᴜsɪᴄᴀʟ Tʜᴇᴍᴇ

[Cyclone]

The Heavenly Sage

ℙℝ𝕆𝕄𝕌𝕊

Heavenly Sage, Patron of Civilization, He Who Stole the Wind, Traitor to the Gods

---

In the dawn before time in a world before this, Promus emerged as a nascent god among a pantheon of disparate and volatile lords. As he grew older he did not interject himself into their feuding in favor of furthering his own mind through reflection and philosophy, and so in the end he was beloved by all for his great foresight and sage counsel.

There finally came a day when the pantheon decided to create mortal beings in their own image to act as servants, and in following the decree of his brethren, Promus crafted a folk of large, wild, shaggy men with unkempt hair and small horns. They frolicked with the beasts of the wilderness and lived at one with nature; Promus named them the Ur and in time he began to see them as his own children.

For his beloved children he would do anything, even if it meant crossing his betters. Upon one night when his brethren were quarreling, Promus ascended to the Celestial Sphere and dared to steal the Wind from the God of Gods, Hurricane of the Heavens, Lord of Near and Close. His great crime unnoticed for the time, Promus returned to the realm below and gifted the Wind to the wild Ur, thus granting them the power of speech. For this great act, the Ur began to use the speech in prayer and worshiped Promus, and Promus alone, as their One True God.

When the lord of the pantheon discovered this treachery, he was furious. No amount of brotherly love spared Promus, and he was chained to the highest mountain of the world and left exposed to the raging elements for a thousand years. But eventually the vengeful lord of the heavens was overthrown, and as the voices of the Ur continued to drift up to Promus' prison, the power of their prayers enabled him to finally break free of his shackles.

Overjoyed at his return, his brethren bid the sage to spread knowledge and civilization among the Ur and all the other civilizations that they had seen fit to create since his imprisonment. So to those other peoples that were his nephews and nieces, children of his brethren, he granted speech also; but he quickly returned to the Ur, and to them he taught many more things: poetry, song, law, writing, and ritual. Where their Creator-Gods had demanded sacrifices of flesh and blood, Promus taught them to offer bones and fat of their livestock and to keep the best cuts of meat for their own consumption. Once more the mortals turned their backs upon the other absent gods and worshiped Promus alone, and once more that (combined with his blatant favor for the Ur) drew the ire of the pantheon.

Promus was bound to the ground and a hundred smoking mirrors were placed about him. When dawn came, the light of the day fell upon his exposed flesh and the mirrors bathed him in the heat of a hundred suns. As the days went on, his flesh always burned away until nought but bone remained, only for the night's respite to enable his divine nature to take hold and regenerate his form that the next day bring suffering also.

But now Promus is free once more and he has come to a new realm. Soon, the Ur will follow in his wake.

Dᴏᴍᴀɪɴ & Pᴏʀᴛꜰᴏʟɪᴏ

Civilization (Speech)

He Who Favors Mortals

As patron of Civilization, many responsibilities are bestowed unto Promus. It is under his direction that the mortals must rise from beings of the wild to primitive societies, and from those chaotic and primitive societies into more organized ones bound by law. Civilization encompasses those things that separate man from beast: everything from the fundamentals like agriculture and construction, to the institutions like written language, to even the finer things like philosophy and art can fall under civilization and therefore fall to Promus if none of his brethren patron such concepts first.

Speech is Promus' first portfolio, for in stealing the wind of a great god in the time before time, he became the only one capable of bestowing unto mortals the gift of speech, and with it the things like prayer, song, and ritual that speech can bring. Promus is especially attuned to verbal prayer, and he listens to each and every one uttered by mortals in his name (and sometimes to those prayers uttered in others' names).

Aʟɪɢɴᴍᴇɴᴛ

Chaotic Good

A father does for his children all that he may

Thousands of years as a god have left Promus wise, and in some ways he may be wisest among the pantheon. But with that wisdom has not come cowardice, and despite his two past transgressions and the terrible punishments that they brought, he would not shy from angering the mighty once again if it meant protecting or raising up the mortals that he loves so.

All that he does is motivated by this love: he is good and a force of order in that he elevates his children above their origins as mere beasts and seeks to make them into something better, and he has no love for war. At the same time, he is also a force of evil and chaos in that he holds little respect for the authority of his peers. He has already shown himself willing to transgress upon the domains of even the most powerful of divines, disobey the orders of other gods and betray their trust, and to usurp them so as to be the One True God in the eyes of mortals.

Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ

To all mortals, he is a fatherly and kind figure; a sort of watchful shepherd.

To his divine brethren, he is more detached. He still aches from the old wounds inflicted by the flaying winds and searing fires of his prisons; they are reminders that he is not the strongest of gods. He now knows that he must battle with his wit, as well as with the backing of the countless mortals that worship him and whose combined power can move mountains. He is ever regal and polite (as he would say such a temperament is the only one becoming of a god) and will give counsel freely to any who might ask, and may even go out of his way to offer it to those that earn his respect or have goals in alignment with his own. To those bestial demons that play at being gods and seek to upheave all that he does, he still shows a facade of reverence and respect even as he plots behind their backs.

Aᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ

Promus is not one to hide from mortals and work his power in subtle ways. From his appearance his divine nature is nigh always apparent, yet not overpowering. Intimidation is not his goal; he projects an aura of order and wisdom.
He often appears as a four-winged man of great beauty, wearing a kingly robe and carrying a bucket with which to water the crops and offer respite to the thirsty.

Hider

Other times he may take on a similar form that comes closer to his true nature, and appears an odd mix of bird and man as befits one who flies between the Heavens and what lies below.

Hider

To those fellow gods that are capable of perceiving his true nature, he does not try to hide his naked and purest form.

Hider

Mᴜsɪᴄᴀʟ Tʜᴇᴍᴇ

He Who Desires

[Lord Zee]

The Corrupter

Larwen

"The Corrupter"

Dᴏᴍᴀɪɴ & Pᴏʀᴛꜰᴏʟɪᴏ

Perfection (Corruption)

Corruption, the great cure for the universe. It exists in all things, no matter how insignificant it may seem at the time. It allows him to take something, an animal, a plant, even a sentient being who is without perfection, and alter them in a way that goes against their intended purpose in life. Usually bastardizations of what they once were, becoming hostile and deadly to unaltered life. Take for example a forest. Where once it would be full of life and greenery, where Larwen walks it would warp and die. The forest would become hostile, and radiate a corrupting influence on those that walked within, and it would be home to twisted creatures. His perversion of what others would deem perfect, natural- would simply become perfected to him, by his own hand.

Such corruption also works more subtlety in the hearts and minds of those it touches. Sweet whispers of power and control, to be greater then what you are, twisting and influencing perceptions until you can no longer recognize what you once were. Angels become demons, men become monsters, and life reaches its full potential. All of this serves Larwen's misguided sense of perfection. For all of creation must be corrupted for it to serve him, it is the only way.

Aʟɪɢɴᴍᴇɴᴛ

Chaotic Evil

Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ

Larwen is a being with great passion. He sees everything, and everyone as corruptible as he, if not even more so. He is extremely hedonistic, going so far as to actively pursue his desires without care of consequence. He craves perfection, his twisted cure from the natural order of the universe, and would love nothing more then to shape it to his will. Larwen does not view his actions as evil, but a pureness that invites all beings into his hold. He views himself as a gift giver, regardless of whether those gifts are malevolent. He truly believes that without his help, nothing can reach its full potential.

He views imperfect creations with abhorrence, and cares little for them in their unaltered states. Larwen sees all life as fallible. Weak. He preys upon the lesser, warping their minds with purpose and seeding their hearts with corruption. As such, he views mortal life as blank molds. They are nothing without his touch, until perfected in his own image. On the rare occasion that he ever found something incorruptible, he would remove it from existence. For if you cannot take his gifts, cannot be altered to fit, then what purpose do you have in a universe of clay?

Larwen believes that his fellow gods are misguided, without the proper purpose or perfection that he desires. He pities them for what they cannot be, but would love nothing more then to alter them as well. Any and all of their subjects, their creations, their people, all are within his grasp. If he cannot corrupt his siblings, then he will corrupt what they love, and perfect them to his own desires. He can rarely be reasoned with, and always asks for something in return for bargains or deals.

Gᴏᴀʟs

His goals are simple ones. The corruption of all life to fit his sense of perfection. To become new, to have a purpose beyond restraint, all must be consumed, altered. All is touchable to him, it must be, for if it is not, then it is already perfect. The imperfect must be perfected to fit into his warped reality. Larwen will do what he must to corrupt life in all of its forms, without hesitation, nor remorse.

Aᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ

Larwen is a tall twelve foot, spindly creature. His arms are long, and his hands are nimble things. Calloused and worn, they are that of a sculptor, a bread maker, smith and painter. His horns are his symbol, his mark upon reality. They are that of a crown, molded to fit that of a God. His form is the pinnacle of what he views as perfection, but the process of alteration is ever ongoing. But for now, he doesn't have any more appearances or forms.

Mᴜsɪᴄᴀʟ Tʜᴇᴍᴇ

Annihilation - Moderat

Creation Info

[WrongEndoftheRainbow]

Lasis, the Patron of Rebellion

Lasis

The Patron of Rebellion, the Curator of Innovation

Female

Dᴏᴍᴀɪɴ & Pᴏʀᴛꜰᴏʟɪᴏ

Culture (Innovation)

Aʟɪɢɴᴍᴇɴᴛ

Chaotic Good

Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ

Lasis is, essentially, an artist at heart. She is extremely rebellious to any type of authority, and is malcontent to take orders from others. Due to this, she is known as the Patron of Rebellion, or more flatteringly, the Curator of Innovation. She, however, genuinely has good at heart, looking to improve people's lives by challenging social order and societal norms. She prefers peaceful means to rebel, however is not above violence if she deems it absolutely necessary.

Aᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ

Generally Lasis chooses to appear as a small wooden golem, dressed in a cloak and pants, with a white undershirt. A book always dangles from a strap, and she carries with her a wooden pyramid at all times.

Mᴜsɪᴄᴀʟ Tʜᴇᴍᴇ

youtube.com/watch?v=oy_fAhsjpLo

[BayRat]

Grimloq

Grimloq

The Destroyer/The Creator

Male

Dᴏᴍᴀɪɴ & Pᴏʀᴛꜰᴏʟɪᴏ

Fire (Rage)

Detail

Fire in its broadest terms is vastly important to the world. It is the heat of the star that gives life to the rocky planets it showers. It is the molten pools within a core that can shape a continent, forges to craft metal, to give heat to those that are cold. Fire is just as much a creator as it is a destroyer. Grimloq emobies this duality with his desire to create creatures in his likeness, as well upholding a passionate, wrathful desire for violence and destruction. One would assume that such a duality of destruction and creation would breed something of an entirely chaotic nature, but Grimloq upholds a sense of honor and pride that structures himself more with a code to follow. His actions are seldom without reason, though often he may find excuses just to fight, he ensures that at the very least there be some reason to engage in violence.

In it's simplest form, the fight for survival has always appealed to Grimloq. Like the burning passion of a fire, rage both fuels and inspires him. No need for justice or retribution when all one needs is an obstacle to conquer to ensure one's self-preservation. That isn't to say he is against a lawful sense of justice, rather that is another quality he attempts to 'enforce', but it is also convenient to allow more primitive desires to follow reason as well. Predator and prey relations and a system of survival of the fittest are what he primarily desires to see simulated in his creations alongside affiliations to his flame. It is this primordial rage that Grimloq commands in his portfolio. The savage nature of an enraged monster or berserking warrior are what he inspires. Whether that rage is fueled by emotion, or survival, does not matter to him as much as it's effect.

Aʟɪɢɴᴍᴇɴᴛ

Lawful Neutral

Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ

Cold-blooded, short-tempered, ruthless, stubborn, proud, honorable, irrational, violent, reclusive, eccentric

Grimloq is a god of few words(Which is perhaps a good thing given his monstrous voice.) and little wants. He upholds himself with great pride as a warrior first and a creator second. He looks down upon the other gods, yet his distinct preference for isolation rarely lets that animosity show. This animosity is defaulted by his prideful nature, viewing himself superior to others of his kin, yet in secret he does seek their respect and acknowledgement.

Often will Grimloq take sport in manifesting himself for battle against his own creations, or rewarding those that prove their strength either through challenging him or through spectating of a battle presented to his honor. There are times when Grimloq himself will manifest simply to experience the life of his creations. To hunt, to eat, to rule. He occasionally engages in the way of life his living creations make for themselves, be it wild beast or peaceful tribe, like a father desperate to connect with a son. He is often inspired by mortals, particularly fond of brave and powerful individuals whether or not they are a part of his creation or from another God.

In dealing with others he most often shows few emotions, but he is certainly quick to anger, and once he has made his mind on something; such as viewing another god as an enemy, or seeing through a strategy, he will rarely ever deviate from that path. His passion for battle and blood lust certainly shows in a heated battle, for he takes honor in his berserk-like tendencies, and appreciates foes that do the same. To him.

Gᴏᴀʟs

Beyond his simple desires of warrior, his pride also comes from his creations, which he strives to 'create in his likeness', creatures that will bear a reptilian with his heritage of his own cold-blood and fire, or ancient weapons that would be created by his forge. In short, to simply observe his own creations evolve and perhaps, impress his other kin, with the power his creations will possess or the 'beauty' they will have is more rewarding to him then winning a spar or smiting a foe.

Aᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ

Reference

Grimloq bears the tall and imposing body of a lizard-like humanoid. He is clad in heavy, plated blue scales as a form of natural armor. Crocodilian eyes pierce from his saurian head like dim candle flames. The crest atop his head is adorned with sharp spines. Bearing a muscular build he is armed with sharp claws and a barbed tail. He is often found wearing few clothing aside from pieces of golden armaments and other small equipment to suit a warrior's appeal. This form represents the lawful and honorable warrior of his duality, dubbed the creator.



When indulging in the other perspective of the duality in his domain, dubbed 'the destroyer', Grimloq manifests as a great dragon to represent the destructive power of fire.

Dragon Form

Mᴜsɪᴄᴀʟ Tʜᴇᴍᴇ

(Work in progress.)

Creation Page

roleplayerguild.com/topics/171612-gri…

[darkwolf687]

Orfai, the Keeper of Secrets

Orfai

The Keeper of Secrets

Male, but has appeared as female

Dᴏᴍᴀɪɴ & Pᴏʀᴛꜰᴏʟɪᴏ

Knowledge (Secrets)

While Orfai is more generally interested in knowledge, he takes a special interest in secrets. Not just any old secrets (although those will certainly suffice), but oftentimes forbidden knowledge, or knowledge about the unknown. Often referred to as the Keeper of Secrets, Orfai is in the business of collecting these secrets and mysteries, capable of obscuring some information whether by the request of mortals or for his own ends and hiding away relics and artefacts of power. It is said that he can be bargained with to obscure ones deeds, and that he can hardly resist taking up a particularly good secret and crafting a mystery around it. For this reason, some less than saintly types attempt to interact with him and make offerings in the hopes of covering up a particularly ruinous secret or a crime, having him to lock it from mortal gaze in exchange for something- although he operates on exact words, and it is wise to consider exactly what one is asking of him and what one is offering him before hand.
But Orfai does not only horde these things; whether out of a genuine sense of duty or for his own curiousty, he also imparts knowledge of the universe to mortal inventors and thinkers, wondering how it might affect the world. To some he is thus considered a patron of learning and academia, something that he embraces as a part of himself and his duality; he regards knowledge as power, and power can be used for both good and evil, for both chaos and order.

Aʟɪɢɴᴍᴇɴᴛ

True Neutral

Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ

Orfai is something of an enigma; He is neither good nor evil, neither chaotic nor lawful. Like all beings however, in spite of his nature, there are a number of things about Orfai that are consistent; he is inquisitive and enjoys hoarding knowledge, however mundane it might seem at a glance. He is smug and often self assured, treating the mortal world as a personal laboratory for experimentation. The word scientist might be applied to him, and while he lacks the portfolio of innovation (somewhat to his chagrin), he does not shy away from planting seeds of knowledge and technology in the heads of mortal men to lead them to great discovieries. He is a patron of philosophers and thinkers, but also the source of great change and upheavel. Despite change itself not being his domain, as the result of the dissemination of knowledge, Orfai has somewhat adopted it into himself.

Gᴏᴀʟs

Orfai often takes the role of an observer to the going ons of the world, but this is a facade. The god is very active in influencing the affairs of Mortals, inserting powerful artefacts into the world, imbuing the ambitious with supernatural powers and orchestrating the rise and fall of cities and kingdoms simply to see the effect it will have on the world.
When he is not observing - or perhaps experimenting or playing with would be more apt - the mortal world, Orfai is working to expand his knowledge and collection of secrets. He is the kind of being who would not be content until he knows everything there is to know, and even then he would likely be double checking to make sure he didn't miss something.
Aside from this endless pursuit of knowledge, a frivolous goal stalks his fantasies; The vault that Mater Lei guards. Though he does not admit it openly (or indeed, even to himself at times) and keeps it hidden away, he hungers for the knowledge that lies sealed inside. He would see the extradimensional vault and door fall under his authority - not to use that which lies within nor even out of any dislike of Lei, whom he is in fact rather fond of- but simply because it is in his nature to desire it.

Aᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ

Orfai is not static with his appearance, indeed he is deliberately changing and secretive. Sometimes he appears as a formless void or even changes through multiple forms right in front of others. This had led to him being almost impossible to depict by mortals, so he is often instead indicated by his mark, which is perhaps the only uniform thing about him. Still, while he tends to change his appearance, if he takes a humanoid form it is often as a dignified figure of learning unless he is deliberately seeking to mask his identity; a scholarly old academic, a wizened philosopher or a governess. Otherwise it is as a shapeless mist, or a figure that is constantly changing shape.

Mᴜsɪᴄᴀʟ Tʜᴇᴍᴇ

youtube.com/watch?v=mhXCQFxGqMM

Creations

Individuals

'Him'

Beings

Faliargun

The Faliargun are intelligent, omnivorous aquatic beings that are roughly 11 feet in length when fully extended, the bulk of this being their large tentacles that they use for propulsion . The upper portion of their being is humanoid (and similarly proportioned, with a human-like head and two arms for grasping, each ending in a five digit hand. They had a thick and scaled hide, and two keen, large eyes.

[/hider]

[Frettzo]

Aella

Aella

GODDESS OF KINDNESS

Domain & Portfolio

Light (Kindness)

Without light, you are blind. When you are blinded, your heart shrivels and your soul withers away, leaving behind a mere husk.

Aella's the embodiment of the Light that allows you to See. When you allow her into your heart, you begin to see everything clearly. You see everyone's struggles, everyone's dreams, you cry the tears they're too afraid to shed themselves and feel compelled to help them achieve peace.

Aella doesn't use her powers in a flashy, overt way, instead going for the subtler route; having the skies part in the perfect moment and direction to reveal the path to a nearby river when you're thirsty or to a nearby caravan of pilgrims when you're wounded and bleeding.

Alignment
Neutral Good

Personality
Aella sees herself as one more pawn in a futile, endless game of chess played by those beyond her comprehension. This belief, however, pushes her toward striving to be the oasis that sates people's thirst after a day of travelling the desert that Life is. In a world where you can lose everything in the blink of an eye, Aella will always be there to give you a safe place to weep until you find your feet once more.

She believes in the strength and valour of mortals and strives to show each and every one the kindness and comfort they need. She is the shoulder you cry on when all seems futile, she is the river in which you clean your wounds after a fight with the local bullies, and she is the fruit-bearing tree you find after days of being lost in the forest.

Finally, Aella's a peaceful Goddess and will never willingly harm another being, be they evil or not.

Goals
Aella seeks only to bring peace to the world and to help make life into a pleasurable experience rather than one filled with hardships and loss. She doesn't think in terms of alliances or politics, so more often than not she'll help whoever asks anything of her, as long as the request doesn't involve hurting anyone else.

Appearance
Aella takes on the appearance of a blonde-haired, blue-eyed, beautiful seven-foot tall woman donning a marvelously crafted set of armour and with a pair of huge, angelic wings. Her face always wears a soft expression and her body gives off an aura of serenity and pure love that moves even the most battle-hardened warrior to tears.

Musical Theme

The Entirety of Aellan History in one Volume - Vol. 2

[Valorous]

Ipeyr(E-Pe-Yer),The Benevolent One

Dᴏᴍᴀɪɴ & Pᴏʀᴛꜰᴏʟɪᴏ

Life(Healing)

Life is the aspect of existence that processes, acts, reacts, evaluates, and evolves through growth. The crucial difference between life and non-life (or non-living things) is that life uses energy for physical and conscious development. Life is anything that grows and eventually dies, i.e., ceases to proliferate and be cognizant. Can we say that viruses, for example, are cognizant? Yes, insofar as they react to stimuli; but they are alive essentially because they reproduce and grow. Computers are non-living because even though they can cognize, they do not develop biologically (grow), and cannot produce offspring. It is not cognition that determines life, then: it is rather proliferation and maturation towards a state of death; and death occurs only to living substances.

Furthermore, In Life there is anguish; Mental, Physical, Spiritual. Within this pain, healing has it's genesis. By formal definition, the meaning of healing is broad and complex: To Heal = to restore to health or soundness. To set aright; mend. To restore to spiritual wholeness. To return to health. Because of this, Ipeyr is often found influencing his followers amidst the bodies of dying, so they return them to health. To Life.

Aʟɪɢɴᴍᴇɴᴛ

Lawful Good

Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ

Ipeyr is in all ways a benevolent being. He is heavily dedicated with his followers, whom describe him as "A truly kind god" or "A savior". These statements are in fact true, as he's never once enacted ill-will upon the world, nor allowed a being to die.(A being whom he deemed wasn't ready to die. He is well aware that while Life must ebb eventually, that is the only way for it to begin again). Despite being a god, he's oddly laconic, only saying whats important and not much else.

He's not known to converse with the other gods, nor interfere with their plans. It's a matter of mutual respect and simple not caring for matters he deems "unimportant"

Gᴏᴀʟs

Simple; Ipeyr is on the side of Life and thus wishes to aid it, mainly his followers.

Aᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ

When he does choose to manifest in a physical form(always human), Ipeyr normally dons simple stark white-well-everything. It's really an eyesore and a dramatic contrast to wherever he appears. His hair is wheat gold and droops in messy curls like a veil in front of his visage. Said visage consist of light olive skin, embellished with thin pink lips, a rather flat nose, and finished with warm umber hues. Nothing to differentiate himself from a normal person, other than his unusual clothing.

Mᴜsɪᴄᴀʟ Tʜᴇᴍᴇ

(Work in Progress)

Creations

Ipeyr's Grove

In response to the creation of the first human, Ipeyr erected this small grove to act as a respite for the being. The area has a modest set of properties:
— Size; From the barren rock came rich earth, which spread like a disease throughout the land. This earth's inception began at a centre, randomly selected to be from the rock, and spread exactly 20 acres in each direction to form a circle. From that earth came sleek blades of healthy chartreuse; the first grass.
— Flora; Again from the earth, small bushes in their juvenile state, just enough to produce fruit. Trees, erected and standing tall with roots tunneling throughout the earth.
— Water; A single rivulet of crystal clear water, cascading down from miniature craggy peaks of rock.

Thus far, His siblings have erected structures and biomes either adjacent or upon the grove.
— Kiko; Though the system itself spans miles underground, the cave's opening is on his land.
— Pelegath; The first swamp, directly adjacent to it.
— Lawren; Began his 'perfection' on a small part of the grove, including the creation of species which further spreads the infectious corruption. Hopefully, it shall be remedied by his sister Siehdhara's Hero.

[Double Capybara]

Extended CS

--Level 2 Goddess of the Supernatural

--Might 0
-Might Per Turn: 5 (Level) + 2 (Holy Sites)

--Miracles: 0

--Portfolios Claimed:
-Souls

[LokiLeo789]

^{The Flayed Prince, The Burning Bastard, The Solar Cannibal, The Usurper, The Prime Solarus, The Cosmic Terror}

---

Axnas

Dᴏᴍᴀɪɴ & Pᴏʀᴛꜰᴏʟɪᴏ

Cosmos (Sun)

Celestial bodies both unimaginably large and inexplicably small reign unperturbed in the ever expanding cosmos, black holes are nature's ultimate manifestation of gravity, quasars are galaxies with active, feeding black holes spewing out light and beams of radiation, and stars looking like rice grains flowing from alien galaxy to alien galaxy, feeding and illuminating them.

In the beginning, Mater Lei created the stars, each of them with it's own unique shape, level of brightness, size, personality and ideas. While stars illuminated the universe around them, suns are engines of limitless energy who produce the necessary heat and light to fuel the creations of life around them. Centers of a planetary systems, suns are boons and progenitors of life, providing crucial the energy for all the living things, governing the movement of all celestial bodies in it's solar system and keeping the all-encompassing frost of space from consuming it's subjects with is warmth. Suns are guardians of life, both protectors of it, and even destroyers.

Aʟɪɢɴᴍᴇɴᴛ

Neutral Evil

Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ

Axnas is a being of strict, disciplined vision. He is uncompromising in his beliefs that the Solarous are capable of great things, and he is willing to destroy anyone who he perceives as an inconvenience along the path to bringing his people to their full potential. This core concept—the foundation of his outlook—was set in stone the moment he was conceived and could see their untapped potential. He wished to bring them to another plateau of existence beyond what any mere divine could ever hope to achieve. This eventually led him to judge those around him as a weak and purposeless by comparison, and continues to drive him to create a future for the Solarus that is devoid of petty weaknesses and base barbarism.

As one might expect, a major facet of Axnas's personality is his complete intolerance for substandard Serephim. Those who submit themselves to their primitive instincts, eschewing their potential for greatness through ignorance and weakness, are anathema in his eyes. The masses that cannibalize wildly on others out of pure hunger are, to him, insulting creatures that serve no purpose but to be consumed to bolster the strong-willed and able-minded, which allows the most capable to enhance their senses and grow closer to his ideal. He is extremely adamant that Seraphs should continue to better themselves without rest. Should even one rumor of unworthy behavior reach his ears, even if it is just a single lapse from an otherwise exemplary Seraph, the punishment from his judgment is swift and merciless, earning him the title of the 'Cosmic Terror'.

Although an imposing individual by virtue of both his unmatched power and his willingness to use it to obliterate those who oppose his ideals, the 'Prime Solarus' is perfectly rational—even courteous—to those he deems worthy of his respect. Any Seraph that displays the qualities that he finds most suitable is treated as an equal in his eyes. Each, however, must uphold the standards of his ideals, else they might quickly spark his ire and face complete annihilation at the hands of a god who has no tolerance for the worthless. No matter how different beings viewpoints may be, the Flayed Prince uses his ability to express his conviction through his movements, tone of voice, and actions to retain order much the same way that a judge of the human world would do in a courtroom.

All of the emotions that Axnas finds useless or degrading are hidden deep within the flesh of his soul, heavily suppressed by the same discipline that allows him to rule and conquer as the Prime Solarus. He does this to ensure that he meets his own standards, and that the drives of his own primal instincts remain locked away in the name of progress. As a result, each major emotion that he shows is almost entirely under his control. He does not become elated unless he permits himself to feel the rush of positivity, nor does he become angry without a purpose to its expression. On a functional level, this allows him to utilize his powers and skills in ways no others can, with him accessing primal feelings whenever he deems it beneficial to battle. When looked at through a social perspective, however, it makes the man seem incredibly cold. He rarely smiles or shows any emotion at all, even when cutting down dissidents.

Aᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ

Axnas

Axnas appears the same to mortals just as he does before his divine brethren; as tall, well-built man, skinless and burning with the heat of the sun. While his form itself is simple yet impressive, his most alluring and fascinating feature -apart from his skinless body - are his eyes; two disks of star cores compressed to the size of limes, brimming with potential yet unreleased.

Mᴜsɪᴄᴀʟ Tʜᴇᴍᴇ

Symphony of The Burning Bastard

[Jarl Coolgruuf]

Pelegath: Lord of Rot

PELEGATH

LORD OF ROT, THE PUTRID ONE, THE RECLAIMER, SAINT OF FARMERS

CREATIONS
roleplayerguild.com/topics/171516-pel…

Dᴏᴍᴀɪɴ & Pᴏʀᴛꜰᴏʟɪᴏ

Death (Decay)

Death is feared, respected and often considered with a poetic beauty. What few poems and epics address is the aftermath of Death's touch, what happens to the vessel left behind. The point beyond the soul's reaping is where Pelegath, god of decay takes up the torch. Many think of decay in a less than flattering light. Words like decay, putrefaction and rot conjure feelings of disgust. Few see beauty in a fallen tree being slowly consumed by fungi and crawling things in the dirt until it becomes putrid sludge, but Pelegath sees nigh unmatched elegance in such things. Decay may not be fragrant or have wonderful colors but what could be more poetic than the living reclaiming the dead to create new life?

Decay is a process that occurs all around but remains largely abhorred or simply forgotten despite its importance. If the dead did not wither into soil, where then would plants take root? If a carcass remained where it lay, what then would return its tangible form to creation? The rotting of slain beasts feeds the grass around them and this grass will feed new beasts, new life. Pelegath is not merely a bringer of ruin he is a being of cleansing, rebirth and renewal.

Pelegath has the power to cause matter to decay and degrade with touch or by will if the matter in question is close enough. His portfolio is decay, but only in the physical sense. Things such as moral or mental decay fall outside his jurisdiction while a rotting corpse may well be his handiwork.

The Lord of Rot is revered by crop farmers as his handiwork helps replenish the fertility of the soil they depend on for their livelihood. Most crop farmers have a shrine to Pelegath on their property or have access to one.

Aʟɪɢɴᴍᴇɴᴛ

Neutral Good

Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ

Despite the unpleasantness associated with his work, Pelegath is a kind and merciful god who generously uses his power for the benefit of those who do not manage to invoke his wrath. In fact, The Putrid One thoroughly enjoys speaking with mortals that can stand the horrible reek that emanates from him but many people unacquainted with him are usually, understandably, uneasy at the sight of him.

Or outright terrified

He is slow to anger and quick to forgive, especially when those who raised his ire make concerted effort to atone. Virtually the only act a mortal is capable of that would truly anger him are meddling in necromancy and undeath which he sees as affronts to the natural order. Such magics can be used to avoid Death and therefore him far longer than any non-divine being should. Though his anger rarely surfaces, it is nothing to be trifled with.

the wrath of an angry god

Though a bringer of destruction, Pelegath has no love for needless destruction. Rot prepares the way for new life and creation. There is intent beyond carnage.

Appearance

Pelegath’s exact form is ever changing with parts growing and rotting off him in a never ending cycle. At times he appears in a form with a patchwork of rotted skin spotted with maggots squirming within his flesh and other times his form is mostly bones with scraps of rotted meat clinging to his frame. No mater what form he takes, flies swarm him wherever he appears and mold clings to him as tightly as the stench of death that hangs in the air about him. Despite the fluidity of his shape, there are a few constants about his form such as the presence of antlers of various composition and states of decay. Most every form he takes has antlers in some capacity.

The Lord of Rot has many forms

Mᴜsɪᴄᴀʟ Tʜᴇᴍᴇ

[Scarescrow]

Sebna, the Ender of Knowledge

Sebna

Ender of Knowledge, the Formless God, Clock of Doom

GENDER
It with no expression of male and female. The closest human-like Sebna had ever got was a chimpanzee. But apart from that, it had taken many various forms, from talking pebbles to a floating whale.

Dᴏᴍᴀɪɴ & Pᴏʀᴛꜰᴏʟɪᴏ

End (Forgotten)

---

As common sense, all things existed and inhabited in a world of which they considered as “reality.” And in fear of all things penetrating the fabric of reality, limits on beings were crafted. For example, they could only grow to a certain height; do a certain amount of work before getting tired; sleep a certain amount of time before waking for the next day. All have its birth at a given time, calculated to the smallest unit of time, and died when they had completed their trips. And Sebna is the one that is going to greet them at the end of the journey. It is the reminder of which the creator had made for this world on the first day of its limited time. Memories fade and words vanished on hard walls are its job. Making sure all things meet its doom is its sole existence. Extinguishing it would not stall their inevitable ends. If anything, another Sebna-like would be created to remind them of their death.

In its presence, things are hard to describe for the least. For the soft cases, a predator would forget it is hunting and ended up revealing himself. Or, a person would cease his farming work for a few minutes doing nothing before pursuing their works. But in longer cases, where the being is a few meters from Sebna, bizarre things would surely happen. And most changes are not fixable by any conventional means. Trees forgot they needed to plunge their roots deep into the ground to survive will begin to dance; fish forgot that they needed breathing in water will walk on land; and knowledge (words, tome, glass, or anything that has the mark of civilization ) will begin deteriorating to its very fundamental forms at an alarming rate. Gods in this close proximity would feel a strange unhappiness when staying this close to Sebna, just as all things do when Death is next to them.

Power clarification

It is quite hard to describe what can Sebna’s power do as its power have a direct link to the meaning of existing and the purpose of life. But what Sebna does is finally extinguishing all will to survive as well as destroying all trails of knowledge. That is it. There is nothing more than that nor anything less than that.

If being put to compare, Sebna would probably be something like a massive eraser that specializes in wiping sentient and alive beings’ minds and instincts to nothingness.

Aʟɪɢɴᴍᴇɴᴛ

Possibly Neutral-Lawful as there are still some rules that it abides by.
+ It shall not kill or join in any plans of which ending another god's life
+ It shall never abandon its duty
+ It is allowed to protect its life in life and death situation

Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ

. But it is quite childish, sometimes naive and playful. But there are also times when it is logical and filled with strange radicals moments. Maybe the best word to describe is something similar to multiple personalities within one. But don't worry, the being couldn't even talk in its basic form. After all, have you ever heard a talking mist? As such, Sebna would never use complicated and old words like "Thee" or something alike. Most of its commandments are basically just what it is said. A naive and playful god

Gᴏᴀʟs

Sebna has always dreamed of having a family that lasted for eternal. It is always lonely to be the person that left behind, spending in the blank state of the world.

Aᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ

A mist and anything that Sebna wanted or it likes. But the clear indication of its existence is the appearance would always compose from a mist.

Mᴜsɪᴄᴀʟ Tʜᴇᴍᴇ

I don't know

[Kalleth]

This Guy Kills Me!

Césure Virgule

Death's Frontman AKA The One-Man Clean-Up Crew

Male

Dᴏᴍᴀɪɴ & Pᴏʀᴛꜰᴏʟɪᴏ

Death (The Mortal Coil)
Césure's domain of Death provides for quite a range of unsightly, ghastly, and tummy-upsetting portfolios. After all, nobody wants to hear that the fun and wonderful party that they've been raving at for their entire lives is coming to a timely end. But that is the sad (or happy, or hilarious, or arousing) truth of existence. Death is, at its core, the fundamental ending of Life. It is a return to form for that which has so miraculously come into its own, so that a continuous cycle of balance and energy and yada yada yada blah blah you've heard all this claptrap before. Point is, Césure's portfolio is that of the fellow who picks up the mortal coils as they slough off of their careworn previous owners. He then takes this essence and gives the best portion of it over to the gods of Life, while keeping a portion for those of Death, and a smaller embezzlement fee for his own good deeds.

Césure can prolong or foreshorten any living being's death, which while not causing or preventing it, is his primary sensation of amusement from existence. His abilities also mean that he has offered up many mortals with some of his more accessible and mundane techniques of toying with the bounds of death, if his whims deemed them worthy. In rare cases, when Virgule wishes to feel very involved, he can prevent the mortal coil from detaching and cause unDeath. He doesn't tend to do this particularly often, though it isn't difficult, because his zombies are inevitably destined to have their mortal coils torn asunder by the strain which makes them non-cashable tender. Essentially, Césure's undead army of servants would be require him to forego pay on behalf of himself and the other Death gods, would jeopardize the balance and all that boogity woogity, and is just too much of a pain in his ass to warrant doing. He does however grant one fanatical priest unDeath per year, in exchange for favours on Césure's behalf. It's pretty hilarious because most of those favours involve elaborate practical jokes on the servants and attachés of other gods.

Aʟɪɢɴᴍᴇɴᴛ

Neutral Evil

Pᴇʀsᴏnaʟɪᴛʏ

Imagine if one day, you were called up out of whatever backwater non-existent pub you had been lurking in for a few eons, and were given the odious task of dealing with dead, dying, and soon-to-be-dying people, for eternity. Yeah, you'd probably end up the same way as Cés(/keɪs/). Namely, the man is constantly looking for new ways to poke fun at existence itself, and any means he can find of making his job more amusing. He's been at this endlessly, and he tends to go through phases. He'll have to deal with a particularly long war with plenty of prisoners on hand, being tortured, and the amazement on the torturers faces at the seeming endurance of the tormented will be evidence of Cés' hand in things. He's also tried making deaths quick and painless for some, though these are generally people whose story he had been following in the first place and even gave a shit about to begin with.

To describe Cés as arbitrary is to call fire warm, or water damp. The god's only seeming motivator is what will provide the next laugh, chuckle, or bemused observation as he toys with the very mechanics of death itself. He is especially fond of the cults that rise up to worship him, as they seem to do unexpected and surprising things with consistency. As far as inter-god relations are concerned, Cés couldn't care less about them, and tends to view them more than anything with veiled jealousy and bitterness. His duties require his every moment in some capacity, whereas they have so much more freedom. Thus he has a decidedly vindictive streak, especially against the gods of Life, which he mostly can keep hidden when he is forced to deal with them. That being said, Cés' tricks, tasks, and mortal servants are particularly famous for garnering the anger of the gods, usually several at once.

Gᴏᴀʟs

Césure's goals can be summarized as being the amassing of a personal trove of mortal coils to some greater purpose. Every single stolen and scrimped soul is preciously and protectively hoarded somewhere hidden from the eyes of the gods. Whether his actual end is to increase his own power, dominion over the physical world, or gods forbid, some off-brand of undead Disney World, it is unclear that even he himself knows. Much more concrete is Césure's hatred of his obligations and duties, and thus one of his wider goals through whatever means necessary is to break free of his unwilling committal to collect the mortal coils. More than anything, deep within his pale gray consciousness, Césure Virgule wants to be left alone. A sort of soft nihilism sulks behind his every action, and is the prime mover for his actions independent of his godly duties.

Aᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ

On the godly plane, Césure bears an uncanny resemblance to Nathan Fillion, to scale as a matter of fact. It is from this form that he derives his other more general manifestations on his frequent incursions to the mortal plane. A tall handsome man in somber suits, well-groomed but rakish even in middle-age. While he prefers this form, and keeps to it as much as he can, the nature of collecting mortal coils means that Césure makes it a habit of taking on the form of wisp of watery mist that can be mistaken as any number of bodily fluids, as well as his godly beast of choice (a brown rat.) Needless to say, Césure has never been one for big dramatic entrances or exits, and while not trying to be undetectable, prefers to be overlooked when possible.

Mᴜsɪᴄᴀʟ Tʜᴇᴍᴇ

(Don't Fear) The Reaper by Blue Oyster Cult

Aren't You Dying To Know What He's Up To?

Then by all means, book an appointment to visit The Office of The Custodian!

[Amethyst]

Rytia, Weaver of Harmony

_{Fluid gender; most often appears female}

Dᴏᴍᴀɪɴ & Pᴏʀᴛꜰᴏʟɪᴏ

<sub>Expression (Music)
The domain of Expression is fluid and everchanging- built on emotional development and release, fostered by an inquisitive nature and a fascination with the fantastical. It is characterized by especially strong emotion, rage and horror and terror alongside elation, joy, and hope. Dissenters and advocates as well as artists and visionaries find a patron in the domain of Expression.

In the portfolio of Music specifically, furies are inflamed as well as soothed, solace sought and sentiments expressed in a more dynamic field than written or even spoken word. Logical discourse is foregone for poetic verse, which is at times foregone altogether. as the patron of Music, Rytia relishes in the abstract and shuns the concrete- why would one ever state something outright when they can imply or allude to it?</sub>

Aʟɪɢɴᴍᴇɴᴛ

_{Chaotic Good
To mortals, she is seen as a benevolent god, if unpredictable at best. No one can predict how music will motivate others, really- it is such a massively personal domain. She certainly means no harm against any race of mortals, regardless of their conduct (her domain would be incomplete without ballads of war and suffering, so she is by no means a pacifist) but instead actively encourages them to thrive independently.
To the other gods, this lack of favoritism is perhaps off-putting, her lack of overall direction and shape, favoring things that will have epic ballads and heroic cadences written about them as opposed to any ulterior motive. Her allegiances will ebb and flow, as fickle as the notes of the “cosmic masterpiece” she seems to think she is composing.}

Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ

_{A young deity, naïve and brimming with energy, quick to make judgment and slow to forget. Intelligent, quick-thinking, and massively creative, but a bit impulsive- prone to making decisions and judgments she will later grow to regret. She prides herself on her own empathic nature and deep, instinctive understanding of the psyche of any populace she’s had a hand in creating… After all, music puts to words that which keens and writhes in secret hearts and can’t be expressed in any other medium. Very much of feeling and less of reason, she can be a bit difficult to work with if her heart is not set on a task, wish-washing between all facets of it, but once her heart is set she becomes infinitely more determined. Fluid at best in her own emotional expression, one can find her a bit offputting- she will cry of death and mourning in one breath and whisper a song of love for one’s mother in the next. Rytia has a bit of a hero complex, still believing she needs to prove herself to the world and the other more-directly-involved gods of the realm.}

Gᴏᴀʟs

_{Rytia has no defined goal at this time. Eventually, she would like to become the patron of her own civilization, fostering a society that relishes in emotion, in creation. She also would maybe, just maybe, like to be hailed as a hero, have ballads and epic poetry written about her or her avatars. A foolishly almost-mortal desire, but what can one expect of one who is little more than a child? For the moment, her curiosity and inquisitive nature are getting the best of her, and she wonders what exactly is possible for her to do, questioning the bounds of the reality she's a part of.}

Aᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ

<sub>For most things, Rytia takes an incorporeal form – a swirling column of air and vivid colors and textures about five feet tall, seeming to effervesce an oddly-harmonic cacophony of bell tones around her everywhere she goes.

When she must appear “decent” she takes an almost-humanoid form. A young woman, though inhumanly slender- her visage is translucent, seeming more entirely transparent when in bright light. Her eyes are large and bright, hair falling to her knees, eternally changing through flowing pastel colors, and her body robed in a simple white gown swirling with foreign, complex musical notation. The aura of bell-tones follows her in this form as well, though it’s much softer when she takes this shape.</sub>

Mᴜsɪᴄᴀʟ Tʜᴇᴍᴇ

_{To be determined. Or maybe written. I haven’t decided yet…}

[Leotamer]

Regulus

REGULUS

ALLIAS

Male

Civilization (Domestication)

At its most fundamental level, domestication is the act of creating order from chaos. To bind that which is wild to the will of the civilized. To Regulus, chaos is death and order is life. While both are necessary, one does not need to promote chaos, except in the most extreme of situations. For as a boulder will roll down a hill, the world will fall towards chaos and death. It is thus his divine duty to promote life and order.

While all life has value, hierarchy is natural in all things. Without hierarchy, there is chaos, and chaos is death. Thus it is the right of the strong, of the wise, of the intelligent, to rule the weak, the foolish, and the ignorant. Though, one must rule with benevolence and grace in order to be favored by Regulus.

Aʟɪɢɴᴍᴇɴᴛ

Lawful Good

Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ

Regulus is a benevolent and caring god. While he values all life, he does not value all life equally. He values strength, intelligence, and nobility, as will use his divine power to reward those who demonstrate those traits.

He will state that he values order above all else. He greatly appreciates innovation, and encourages self-improvement and growth. Otherwise, he is quite resistant to change, and frowns upon wanton destruction, and madness. Though, in reality, he does truly care for the well-being of life, and can simply get angry because he does care deeply about it and he can be to stubborn to admit his failings. He sees suffering as a necessity evil, a fire to forge life into something greater and to teach them temperance, but can be over-protective at times.

Gᴏᴀʟs

Regulus seeks only to safe guard, and nurture life. While even he is unsure if it is possible, his wish is to create a mortal paradise for all living things to live in, and to remove the influence of what he refers to as "The Evil Gods" from the world of the living.

Aᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ

Regulus appears as a tall humanoid with a gold skin tone. His face still more angular and jutted than a human, and his teeth are sharp but otherwise his anatomy is human-like. He has long, bright gold hair that comes down to his neck. He wears a very fancy, purple vest, and similarly fancy brown trousers. He is almost always seen wielding a spear, which handle is made of gnarled oak wood, and point is made of a sparkling blue crystal, bound together by vine and a golden metal band.

Mᴜsɪᴄᴀʟ Tʜᴇᴍᴇ

https://youtu.be/IJiHDmyhE1A

[Antarctic Termite]

Anime Demigod

Yu

The Demon Slayer

'...you ARE a boy, right?'

Dᴏᴍᴀɪɴ & Pᴏʀᴛꜰᴏʟɪᴏ

N/A

Being a Hero, Yu has neither domain nor portfolio. However, his powers are clear. Yu is an adept manufacturer of war demons, creating them one by one with his own magic and contorting them into weapons or binding them into servants. Such power has many applications beyond the fields of war (a large devil will just as easily plough a field as carry a chariot), but it is for war that this skills were long ago learned.

Aʟɪɢɴᴍᴇɴᴛ

Lawful Neutral

Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ

Yu is a hero of a kind not wholly undeserving of the title. Very patient and always of reason to smile, Yu deals kindly with his fellow mortals until the time comes to stop doing that. He (he?) is also cheeky, and a relentless flirt, in a mostly (but not entirely) tasteful fashion. His respect for authority is certainly no less than his respect for all other things, but it doesn't seem to be much greater, either.

If Yu has a crippling flaw, it is that he follows orders well. If given reason to perform a task for another, he will do it, swiftly, cleanly, and with chilling brutality. The nature of his trade, where he plies it, has somehow become wholly separate from who he is in his own mind. Its consequences are the responsibility of those who ordered him. To Yu, it is not only normal to wipe blood off one's knives before playing with children, but wholly and utterly mundane.

Gᴏᴀʟs

A knight in search of a lord. Yu does not work for the highest bidder unless he or someone he treasures is in desperate need of the money. Instead he seeks noble causes and honourable leaders. He need not stay by them for long. It is not unheard of for Yu to pledge himself to a lord whose principality has fallen under siege only long enough to drive the invaders back to the border, and leave them to fend for themselves after that.

Aᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ

'I'm just saying, it's hard to tell with you.'

Mᴜsɪᴄᴀʟ Tʜᴇᴍᴇ