Jarl Coolgruuf

Godspeed!

@Antarctic Termite Fixed it and the fact I'm not the only person on the planet whp read Deltora warms that spot where my heart should be.

Godspeed!

Pelegath looked on with pity as his sister wept for her lost children. Had he something to offer her, he would have. Perhaps there would be something he could do for her in the future, but for now he had work to do. The new forest would have need of creatures to remove the dead and his children would make excellent caretakers. With a wave of his hand a surge of insects departed from his body and converged on the forest.

“Serve my brother and his creations well.”

He looked on as his children made their homes in the undergrowth and thought he might like a land of his own. Though he was not sure he could make a forest, he thought he might try his hand at creating a biome. He lifted both hands and in the distance, water bubbled to the surface and mixed with rot to form a boggy ground. The ground was almost as numerous as the shallow water the broke up the small islands of mud from which sprouted sickley trees.

The result was a hideous land that had the faint reek of death about it; the first swamp. Pelegath could not have been happier with his creation. A land to call his own, how wonderful.

The world was quickly expanding and it dawned on him that soon his small children would not be able to take care of the death that would ensue. He would need to create something larger, a beast that could feast on the dead without fear of sickness. Peeling four pieces of gray rot from his own body, he fashioned two pairs of large wings to carry his children over the land so they could spot the dead from the air. From there, he fashioned them bodies of the muck of the bog, feathers from the light and airy moss. The resulting creatures were a pair of large birds with jagged beaks for tearing flesh and powerful jaws to splinter bone. They would be the progenitors of a new species.

The Reclaimer had need of beasts that could dispose of the dead

He gave their kind a name after a moment of thought.

“Akbaba, search for the dead from the skies.”

The feathered beasts took flight with twin shrieks and soared off across the newly formed swamp to find a home.

Summary

Pelegath looks around and wants to make a forest like his brother because that’s cool. He ends up making a swamp which he likes even better.

It then occurs to him that the world is getting big real fast and bugs ain’t gonna cut it forever so he needs something a bit bigger like big ass vultures

Might Summary

3.5 Initial Might
1.75 Might used

1 - create a swamp
0.25 - create what are basically vultures

Level 1
1.75/4 acts of creation

1.75 remaining might

Godspeed!

All the other gods are making mushroom shrines and sprites and shit and Pelegath's over here like:

Godspeed!

The Lord of Rot has come

Through the door drifted a strange, rounded form. The new arrival was draped in sheets of gray filth that brushed the sand as it glided into the new world and did little to cover its criss-crossing frame. Droplets of a black slime fell to the sand in its wake and before it came an abominable stench but it seemed to be unaware of this or simply unconcerned. From the mass of branches and muck drifting above the sand sprouted something vaguely in the shape of a rounded, faceless head beneath a hood of grayish muck.

The head turned slowly to the left, than the right as the being inspected its new surroundings with innocent curiosity. How exciting to find itself in a new world! A sound reached the new arrival, a spoken name. It thought that sounded nice and it too desired to have something to call itself. There was a moment of consideration before a soft breeze drifted from the dark of its hood and gently proclaimed its name.
"Pelegath"
Had he a face, there would be a smile upon it. He had a name and a new world in which to... a new world to... What would he do? He heard a call, then.

“I am Aella, let’s create and nurture, Brothers and Sisters.”

"A blank world invites us to create," the Putrid One agreed

He knew if there was to be life in this new world, it would eventually wither and die. Even when living things are no longer among the living, they need to be cared for. The vessels left behind by death would need to be disposed of and so he set to work.

A pair of dead branches sprouted from Pelegath's form and descended the short distance to the sand. A gentle blue light stirred from the center of his form and quickly brightened more and more until the light spilled from his hood. Pieces of the gray filth clothing him fell to the sand as black sludge dripped from what could be called his hands. The filth and the sludge coagulated, mixed with each other and the sand to form a widening pool of putrid muck.

From the rot and the filth crawled a tiny creature with twin antennae and three pairs of legs beneath a flat, brown body. The creature shook it's sleek form free of the muck that birthed it and scuttled about for a moment. The first insect was born. Pelegath was delighted at his new creation and offered his hand to it. The insect promptly scurried up his arm and into his body where it made its new home among the tangle of branches. His children would claim what was dead.

“From death, there will be life”

Following the first bug came more like it and others very different. Some flew while others skittered along the sand and they came in all shapes and sizes. Piles of bugs and worms poured from the muck and into the waiting arms of their father while those gifted with flight congregated into a buzzing cloud around him. He was happy with his creations but his curiosity was piqued when he saw the others creating as well and marveled at what they brought forth. What beautiful things they were crafting! This new world would surely be a splendid place!

Again, he turned to the pool and now dipped his hands into the slime. His children would need help reclaiming the dead and so he formed what was to be called mold. The mold grew and prospered in his hands, spreading along his arms and developed many shapes and colors. There was still much more work to be done, but this was a start.

Summary

4 Initial Might
0.5 Might used

0.25 - create bugs and worms that feed upon the dead
0.25 - create molds and more types of fungi

Level 1
0.5/2 acts of creation
--> Level 1

3.5 remaining might

Godspeed!

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

Godspeed!

@Pyromaniacwolf you know it

Godspeed!

Ay have a thing

Pelegath: Lord of Rot

PELEGATH

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

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

Warhammer 40K: Knives in the Dark - An Only War/Guard RP

Yeah, this place is dead

Warhammer 40K: Knives in the Dark - An Only War/Guard RP

@AdvancedJ3lly Seems pretty dead

Warhammer 40K: Knives in the Dark - An Only War/Guard RP

@Jbcool I commented 1 reply before so I'm not a good candidate