| 1 |
Torix, Memory of Duty Forgotten. Born when the Celestines first invoked the war against the Primordials, Torix represents all duties ignored, shirked, or openly denied. He has ranged in form and power over the millenia, from a shining androgynous being of great might during the gods' usurpation to a wizened old man in rags during the tempered First Age. A living tempest of elemental fury during the usurpation to the shifty-eyed, loose-tongued man he seems today, as he represents all the dishonest men and women who break their bonds. Torix keeps his head low and his dagger close, these days. He is also rare among spirits as one who can break his word - the very concept he represents gives him that power. |
| 2 |
Iao, Most Perfect Keeper and Recorder of That Ancient. Despite the long title, Iao is the spirit of old things kept in Lookshy. She spends most of her time incorporeal in the library of that city, cataloguing the books that are old to be of importance to her. She has long since recorded the aspects and natures of all the ancient artifacts kept by the city, though some had purposes even she could not discern. She rarely materializes, but when she does she appears as a young girl with light brown hair reaching to her ankles dressed in paper. The paper has illegible writing upon it. She knows a great deal about the books and artifacts kept within Lookshy, but is reluctant to share. She directs those who manage to request information of her to the Celestial Bureaucracy (to which she has not submitted a report in over 300 years). One of the few ways to tease something valuable from her is to offer something to her collection. It must be old enough to suit her, usually two or three hundred years of age, though unique items of less antiquity may be acceptable. Iao can see through all attempts of falsifying age. |
| 3 |
Malleus, The First Tool There are few accounts, and none trustworthy, of how the Gods were created, but those that exist never agree on which God was first to be created. There are some who know enough Lore who claim that Autochthon, the Great Maker, created the first of the gods - and that Malleus was his first successful creation. Malleus is a being of endless shapes, but his form never takes asthetics into account; he changes to suit his current task, always seeking to be more efficient. Unlike most gods, he does not have an agenda; other gods, elementals, Exalts, even mortals who have learned of him may summon him with the right rituals and he will come to perform one task for them, whatever it might be; over the ages he as built towers, drained lakes, cleared forests, destroyed cities and solved problems of engineering. Strict rules apply to the terms of his service, however; what those rules are have been largely lost in the modern age, but it is known that he will only perform tasks that please his creator - tasks that will further making or design. If a supplicant asks for something outside of the restrictions, Malleus simply refuses and departs. When speaking with those who ask his aid, Malleus assumes a shape similar to that of his supplicant. He is detached, caring nothing for the politicking of the other gods. In recent centuries, he has sometimes been slow to respond to pleas and quick to vanish after he has completed the task he was called for. Some murmur that he senses his creator stirring in his sleep; others that he is preparing himself for a greater task than any minor god or mortal can comprehend. |
| 4 |
Ganymedes, Lover of Men and Protector of Discrimated Love Ganymedes is the patron of male homosexuality (he has a twin sister, Sapphoe, who looks after lesbianism). His worship is actively supressed in some places (where his Protector role is often most invoked) and blithely accepted in others (where his Lover role is dominant), with a whole spectrum of toleration/discrimination in between. Still, few are the places where his name is not known, if only in whispers. Though he is primarily the god of homosexual males, in his Protector role he looks favorably on ALL loves discriminated against. Many star-crossed lovers of all persuasions have been blessed by him in some way. Ganymedes changes his appearance constantly, but always appears as an achingly beautiful man. His most common form, though, is that of a lithely muscled youth of about twenty summers with tanned skin, dark hair, and eyes the color of a Western sea. His temples tend to be rather "decadent" and "debauched" places, though well-concealed and unobtrusive if the surrounding culture is less-than-supportive of such behavior. He resides in Yu Shan, but is uninterested in the Game and horrified at how totally the Bureaucracy has collapsed. |
| 5 |
Big Dog, King of Dogs The patron spirit of Nexus canines, Big Dog is the biggest, toughest, most tenacious cur who ever chewed a bone. When dogs howl at night in the city, it's Big Dog that they're invoking. When poor kids set dogs' tails on fire for fun, it's Big Dog who tracks them down and chases them into the river. When rich men kick starving mutts off their property, it's Big Dog who sneaks in at night and poops ontheir carpet. Big Dog, as his name suggests, most frequently roams the Nexus streets in the form of a scruffy mongrel dog the size of a pony. He sometimes also appears as a burly, hairy man, but is clearly uncomfortable walking on two legs. In human form, he most often masquerades as a laborer or a guardsman, and can summon forth a huge iron-studded war club with which to smite his enemies. Big Dog looks after his pack diligently, and always has a good dog's-eye view of goings-on in the city. Occasionally, when the moon is full, he rustles up canine war-posses and pursues the enemies of dogs. Considerably more frequently, he breeds with the local bitches, giving rise to a large number of God-Blooded Nexus dogs. Some humans, especially child gangs, venerate Big Dog, taking care of any strays they come across and offering him sacrifices of marrow bones and meat scraps. Big Dog, in turn, treats them as part of his pack; as long as they acknowledge that he's the alpha, he looks out for them. He's very straightforward in both his speech and his dealings, and never knowingly lies or breaks his word. Big Dog, although powerful, is not particularly smart. He's frequently toyed with by both Luna, after whom he lusts constantly, and his arch nemesis Tybalt, Prince of Cats. Other spirits tend to make fun of Big Dog behind his back. Even some clever mortals get the best of Big Dog, although their gloating is typically short-lived; he may be dumb, but Big Dog knows when he's been had, and when he's been had, he gets mad. |
| 6 |
Tybalt, Prince of Cats Who is Tybalt? More than Prince of Cats! The dashing Cat-God of Nexus can be found virtually anywhere one looks (and numerous places one doesn't), from the rankest alley to the poshest villa, from society balls to tavern brawls. Tybalt sometimes appears as a sleek orange tabby, but he's equally comfortable in his human form, that of a slim, almost effeminate man with green cat's eyes. He adores disguise and dressing up, and is always on the cutting edgeof fashion. He is especially fond of fine leather boots and plumed hats, and is never far from his magic rapier. Unlike his straightforward canine counterpart, Big Dog, Tybalt is maddeningly mysterious and roundabout. All cats in Nexus report to him, but they are organized in a mind-bending maze of interlocking bureaus and agencies, none of which seem to ever have any direct contact with the Prince of Cats. Tybalt himself plays his cards so close to his chest that even he isn't sure what he does or doesn't know -- but always manages to come off as smug and inscrutable nonetheless. Tybalt regularly interacts with human society, frequently disguising himself as a mortal and mingling with the nobility. He finds courtly manners and intrigue endlessly entertaining, and often stirs up scandal just to make things more fun. He is also well-known, under his true name, as a swashbuckling thief who stages daring heists and break-ins. The authorities always arrive just in time to see him making his brilliant escape, and he usually leaves behind a monogrammed velvet glove just in case they fail to recognize him. Something of a lothario, Tybalt always has his sights set on some lovely woman or another. He romances everyone from dowager widows to tavern maids, but is especially fond of pursuing foreigners who are visiting the city, since they have the tendency to leave Nexus at just about the time he begins tiring of them. Although never long-term, his relationships tend to be thrilling and melodramatic for everyone involved; Tybalt is never satisfied to simply seduce, but instead feels compelled to orchestrate elaborate, action-filled scenarios which end with the damsel swooning into his arms. When intrigue, skullduggery, and romance fail to hold his interest, Tybalt turns to his other time-honored hobby: tormenting Big Dog and his canine henchmen. Assuming feline form, he leads the dogs on a merry chase through the city, always one step ahead of being caught. Despite this, when danger threatens Nexus, Tybalt and Big Dog are the first to put aside their differences and oppose the threat. Tybalt abides by a code of conduct as labyrinthine and mysterious as the Society of Cats he heads. It is commonly known that if one sets a bowl of cream by the door and recites "Puss, puss, come to my door; I have a saucer of cream for you," he will quickly appear. On certain days of the year, he never tells anything but lies; on others, he only speaks the truth. Tybalt is also known to leave baby kittens in the beds of red-haired, green-eyed girls; if the girls take good care of the kittens, they receive his special blessing. |
| 7 |
Desdarand Once,Denandsor was known as a city of learning, and a city of trade, and its city father, Desdarand, was admired, feared and loved by all. He was once a beautiful thing, with long flowing hair made from diamonds. He wore clothing made from metals, but softer than silks, and in his eyes a thousand mysteries could seen by those clever enough to look. Now, Desdarand has no eyes, and he weeps for them. He doesn't need them to see; of course, but how can one not more for the loss? How many secrets will go unrevealed because Desdarand is not as he was? How many secrets will go unrevealed because Denandsor is not as it was? In the First Age, there was no greater city, a bastion of learning was Denandsor. Now, its books, and scrolls, and singing crystals and thought-catchers are all silents, or worse, rotting away. Denandsor is a city of learning, with know one to teach, and Desdarand is the same. Now, Desdarand has no hair, and he weeps for it. He is not a vain spirit, he doesn't not cry for his lost beauty. He cries because his own hair was braided into the chains of diamond that bind him deep within the city. In the First Age, there was no greater city, an epicenter of trade was Denandsor. Now, the city was empty. No one bought or sold the fantastic wonders that just sat within the city, and tarnished. Those few who enter Denandsor are quickly driven out by a foreboding. Those who stay too long are driven made. Desdarand wants to got to these people. He wants to comfort them, and tell them the secrets of Denandsor, and its madness. But, he can't. He is bound, and will remain so until someone frees him. |
| 8 |
Eyes of Venom,
Dominar of Poison* The Council of Dirges Eyes of Venom is one of the three major Bloody Hand spirits of Chiaroscruro that make up a dark court called "The Council of Dirges". One each for the three tribes that came together to rule the once great city. Eyes of Venom is the Bloody Hand of murder involving poison and venom. Eye of Venom holds his mandate better then most Bloody Hands in Chiaroscruro. As he rarely does more then watch and record the various murders in Chiaroscruro that are committed with deadly poisons. Most days he is very busy, as poison is a favored method of eliminating rivals in the minor courts of the Delzahn. There is also assassins through out the city that pay homage to him by crafting venom daggers and dedicating them to him. Some that especially please Eyes of Venom are gifted with small vials of exotic poisons. Among the spirits of the city Eyes of Venom is seen as a powerful ally or a terrible enemy. Even among those spirits with less grim tasks as his he is given a good amount of respect because he mostly follows the old ways. Though few know of the daily bounty of murder he is given witness to so he has little reason to goad mortals in to more murder. |
| 9 |
Kykris, little gods of Camaraderie Appearing as a small, reptilian-like bird with bright plumage when materialized, the Kykri are minor gods of fraternity and cooperation. In the First Age no military group was considered a true group without a Kykris to bind the men together and inspire the soldiers to look out for each other. Originally under the command of Ahlat and his underlings, the Kykri were sent as gifts to groups of warriors whose teamwork and cooperation led to great victories. Other military groups in need of these spirits also learned to make the proper sacrifices to entice these valuable spirits to live among them. Wherever they live, the Kykri cannot resist attempting to bind together the groups they see with bonds of proper respect and fraternity. Sorcerers of the First Age gauged the true power of an army's spirit by counting the number Kykri they could see flitting among the ranks, drawing sustenance from the fellowship of the troops. After the end of the First Age, the Kykri were all but destroyed. Their work helped to cement the brotherhoods of the Dragon-Blooded, but their subtle powers were not enough to stay the hands of the Solars' betrayers. Many of the spirits, who were not very intelligent, could never understand how the betrayal could have happened after all their work to bind the legions together with camaraderie. Soon, after the decay of the Celestial hierarchy and Ahlat's shift of position in Yu-Shan, many Kykri forgot their real purpose entirely. Of the few that remain in the Second Age, only of a handful of Kykri still fulfill their true calling. Almost a dozen live in the barracks of Lookshy and a handful can be found in most large cities in the South. In a number cities, Kykri can be found spreading fellowship and brotherly love in taverns and entertainment halls, more than pleased to fill some shadow of their former roll. Almost any godking, Exalt, or brave mortal sorcerer can see the utility of having a Kykris under their control and as such "wild" Kykri are frequently snatched up and put to work by other beings. Though only marginally intelligent, Kykri are fiercely loyal and will use their abilities to return to the groups they have helped form. Kykri hate Fair Folk passionately. If confronted by another spirit loyal to Ahlat or an emissary of Ahlat, a Kykris will always show it reverence and may perhaps follow it. |
| 10 |
Gutefar, Southern god of Sheep, and Marriage Gutefar is a sleepy little god of the Delzahn peoples. When material he appears as an elderly shepherd of the Delzahn horde. With deeply tanned skin and dull colored dusty robes he is hardly distinguishable from the nomadic people of the south. Only those that know what to look for can pick him from among the rest of the horde. His telling features are bright eyes that twinkle, a wry toothy grin, overly large leather boots and small boney horns on his wooly head. He is also known to show himself as a golden ram. Seeing him in this form is a sign of good pasture. The Delzahn celebrate the marriage of their daughters with lavish three day festivals that pay homage to Gutefar. Sheep or other live-stock are often sent to the bride's family as betrothal gifts. The number of gifts must be nine or can be divided by nine. This is because cardinal numbers are regarded as auspicious by the Delzahn people. The betrothal gift of sheep honors Gutefar while satisfying the brides family with a dowry. Other animals may be used but only those that use sheep warrant Gutefar's blessing. For those that have kept a faithful marriage and honored their spouses with many fruitful years of marriage, a single gold colored ewe will be born. This will grow into a long lived, healthy breeder, who will give more milk and more wool then nine other sheep. These are prized among the Delzahn and to have one is considered to carry great honor. Gutefar is not without his vengeful side however. He levies great curses against any that mix his godly aspects in unnatural ways. Be it a lonely shepherd boy or a mighty Bahadur Warrior, they all feel the sting of Gutefar fury. |
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Brutal Witness*, Lord of Deadly Quarrels The Council of Dirges Brutal Witness is one of the three major Bloody Hand spirits of Chiaroscruro that make up a dark court called "The Council of Dirges". One each for the three tribes that came together to rule the once great city. Brutal Witness is the Bloody Hand of brutal murders, normally carried out with blunted weapons. |
| 12 |
Vosis, Plotter of Yanaze's Peaks Vosis is a go-between for Mistress Yanaze and the local air-spirits. When the wind begins to blow and calm leaves his mistress' surface, Vosis is hard at work showing the Horoa where to strike the water. He appears to mortals as a short, young man with a lithe body wearing gauzy blue clothing with a white silk scarf. He is handsome and unabashed of his form. To others he takes the aspect of a fish shimmering with light greens and blues, all tinged with white. In the Age of Sorrows Vosis has ceased consulting the stars and auguries to determine where to raise his river peaks; he now considers himself an artist, creating whatever patterns please his fancy when the wind begins to blow. |
| 13 |
Horoa, the Gusts Hardly worth mentioning, the Horoa are hard to see even when gazing into the spirit world. They appear as nearly translucent children, each with a vacuous gaze, running through the air as a man would through water. The do make good speed, however. They are the breaths of the wind, the errant gusts that fall off of great currents of air that cross Creation. Such beings are always accompanied by hordes of Horoa, and by the time the greater spirit has tired itself out and stopped to rest, most are gone. Those that have not gone multiply rapidly. The Horoa usually leave the main body of spirits individually and soon die - they feed off of wind and rarely have enough energy to return to the greater spirit after falling loose. Only when great numbers of these lesser spirits come free at once can they survive, feeding off of each other and blowing across the landscape. Eventually these groups also shrink in number and then perish. In the 1st Age, such groups of Horoa would dissipate much more quickly out of duty and a desire to reincarnate beside another powerful wind-spirit ready to fly. Today, a rogue group of Horoa might tear its way through a town, causing wind and mischief. |
| 14 |
Axrane, Sleeping Ember The Sleeping Ember, when materialized, is often mistaken for a lowly fire elemental: her skin constantly glows, from a dark red when she is at peace, to white-hot when her temper is roused. Cinders perpetually accumulate on her skin: Most of these simply drift away, surrounding her in a faint haze; she allows some to build up, and this is her sole claim to modesty. Suprisingly, that ash which remains in contact with her maintains excellent cohesion: no gust of wind will suddenly strike her bare, and she has been known to craft it into the shape of a formal dress when the situation calls for it. Many a figure of Axrane is burned in effigy every night. Invoking her is a simple trick: a figure of pine, approximately six inches tall, carved to resemble her, is considered part and parcel of the building of many a new house in the threshhold. The demands of the figure are exacting and specific, and there is no room for error in the carving. After the completion of this fairly lengthy project, on the first night that the inhabitants sleep there, the effigy is placed in a brazier, standing upright, and prayers are offered to her to watch over the house while the inhabitants rest. The figure is then lit ablaze, and the family goes to rest. If properly invoked, the Sleeping Ember will burn throughout the night, watching for intruders and ensuring deep and restful sleep for those within, with nothing but pleasant dreams. A particularly well-made figurine may be re-usable: the figure burns and accumulates ashes around itself, but in the morning, it can be found uncharred and unmarred. Sometimes the dreams she grants are more than pleasant: sometimes by request, and sometimes by her own initiative, she visits the dreams of young man and woman alike, who will wake from such an interlude with bedsheets singed, with a fine layer of ash over much of their bodies. Axrane has no preternatural ability to deter intruders, but her practices have ensured that she has many god-blooded offspring, who can be known by firey hair and grey eyes that glow a dull cherry-red when incensed. These children often serve her directly, tracking down offenders and delivering justice, or vengeance. Thieves and intruders neither are aware nor care about the difference. With the return of the Solar Exalted, Axrane and her agents have found themselves in contact with the Night caste, sometimes working in tandem, others in opposition. Time will only tell how this resolves: Axrane herself was god-blooded once, born after the usurpation, but blessings and time have raised her to a position of some power. |
| 15 |
Hemfast, Dancer of the Ascending Wood When the court of Wood is in session, Hemfast goes to work. Hemfast is a beautiful creature that embodies the natural rebirth of the season. Eyes of the deepest green gaze out of the face of a young child. His hair is long, with green leaves and berries woven through the dark brown locks and his body is sculpted to be perfect, despite his diminutive size. When materialized, he gives off the heady aroma of cooking meats, fresh fruit and primal passion. A perfume he often leaves on his subjects when he is done with them. Hemfast is charged with bringing the emotion of wood to the people and animals he comes across. When he comes upon a dreaming creature, he works his magic by shaping their dreams into their greatest desires. He plays upon their passions and needs, then leaves them with a desire to mate, grow fat and enjoy the season. Hemfast can be found in Yu Shan when not in service to the people. He is petitioned throughout the year by mortals and Dragon-Blooded alike to ignite passion and inspire fertility in lovers. |
| 16 |
Otak, Mist's Tears The sons and daughters of the storm, the Otak live in but an eyeblink to the common Exalt. Born when they are shed from the sky and dying when they strike the ground, they are some of the least gods. Each of the Otak represents perhaps a thousand raindrops, and their appearance reflects their fleeting nature. As they fall from the sky they look like a watery and translucent babe swaddled in cloudstuff. Aging occurs rapidly until they burst upon the ground, aged grandfathers. These spirits are of little use individually, but the canny sorceror will find some tricks. Burning a mixture of ground silver and majiuana beneath a falling Otak can force them to change their path or even stop falling. Performing such rituals en masse can keep a region from flooding or channel their subtle destructive force at a besieged fortress. When the Otak burst upon the ground, born from their remains are the Avri, the rivulets of water. |
| 17 |
Eurydoke, Dancer on the Razor's Edge Eurydoke is a daredevil and thrill-seeker among spirits. Nothing delights her more than the reckless, dangerous, and potentially disasterous. Audacious plots, mad schemes, and unsafe adventures are all smiled upon by her. Her favorite pasttimes are excursions into such hostile realms as Malfeas, the Underworld, and the Wyld for "fun" and adventure. (It is rumored in the Spirit Courts and Yu Shan that she has recently heard rumors of a totally new realm, "Autochthonia," and has set out in search of a way to enter it and sample whatever dangerous delicacies it might hold.) Eurydoke is the patroness of all those who live "on the edge" (though not the particularly criminal, such as thieves and assassins). She is particularly venerated by communities near Shadowlands and the Wyld, since in the course of her adventures in these realms she often disposes of especially dangerous local elements and because she patronizes those mortals who undertake similar activities. She appears as a relatively young human woman, tall and of athletic build, with brown hair pulled back into a serviceable bun and sensible clothes. She carries a sword, arrow, and a pack (which actually opens into a pocket of Elsewhere and thus can hold an astonishing amount of material). A merry, fun-loving woman, she often mingles with mortals in bars and taverns with mortals. She has a number of god-blooded children fathered by her numerous human partners. These children often take after their mother and become adventurers and rogues themselves. |
| 18 |
Phlebas, Western Lord of Lies and Empty Promises Phlebas body can be seen floating in the western sea, an apparently dead and bloated corpse with black pearls where his eyes would have been. His body is huge and riddled with holes, and within his body lies his court, a thousand spirits of the lies, betrayals, and empty promises that break the relationships of men. Some appear as beautiful women, some as horrendous batlike figures with human faces, some as dark insects that coil around the spine of a walking dead man, and some as simply shattered masks. Every lie, every promise that is broken, every act of betrayal creates pain, and that pain gives birth to a spirit. Phlebas is their king, and from the moment of their birth, when they realize that can be drawn out of the betrayor herself, they begin to make their way toward his place in the west. Some try to use this to their advantage, purposely causing an act of betrayal so that they might follow the spirit to Phlebas' current place in the mighty ocean of the west. Such travellers are generally coming as supplicants, to ask Phlebas a question which, so long as they bring a spirit with them in trade, he is required to answer and, as Phlebas knows every lie that has ever been uttered whos spirit was not bound and destroyed, a question asked of him can be a useful thing indeed. Phlebas can also send out his spirits to fuse with humans, to incite more betrayal in the hopes that this will create a cascade that will ultimately increase his own power. He is usually right. Phlebas knows the secrets of Exaltation as well. If someone seeks out the spirit of one who betrayed them, Phlebas very often gives them the ability to seek that person out, hunt them down, and destroy them. However, forever after, that person will serve the cause of Phlebas -- and wherever he goes, more spirits will be created, and Phlebas corpse will grow only more bloated. |
| 19 |
Hyronimo, Fisher on the Banks of Avarice South of Sijan, separating the city of the living from the city of the dead, runs the Avarice, crossed by two bridges, one for the living, and one for the dead. The morticians of Sijan cross the Rising Bridge as a matter of course to reach the vast plains of the dead, where mosaleums of ancient construction stab upward from the parched and rotting land. Sitting on the banks of this river, on the Sijan side, occasionally, can be seen a solitary figure wrapped in brown robes and holding a simple fishing pole made from a vibrant sapling .The figure occasionally mutters to himself, but in the end almost nothing will disturb him from his fishing -- a fishing which never seems to catch anything. Likewise, a similar figure, bearing an emaciated face and using a pole made from sinew and an impossibly long rib, can be seen sitting on the banks from the Plains of the Dead. Likewise, he only sits, and never seems to catch anything. This second figure only ever appears in times of great strife, however, and has been viewed as a portent -- the last time he was seen was immediately before and during the Occupation of Sijan by Realm forces, the time before that was during the great contagion, where he simply sat fishing. If any attempt to listen to the mutterings of these figures, they will hear words of life and rebirth. The figure on the Sijan side seems to repeat snippets of the murmers of lovers, and he always smells of the spring. The figure on the Plains whispers the laments of the dead, constantly, and smells of the cold decay of late autumn. The fishers will never be engaged in conversation, and will only ever fish. If a character tries to harm one of them, he will crumple easily -- but he will reappear a few days later, with the wound obvious, and until he heals the damage the land on his side of the river will be -- less fertile. Love will spoil more easily, the dead will become more restless. It has come to the point where as soon as he is spotted an honor guard of living and dead alike shows to protect him from harm. |
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Administrator of the Changes the Hidden Valley Spirit Court The spirit who monitors at the plants and animals, ensuring that they change as appropriate with the seasons, such as leaves falling, fur changing color, snow falling, plants dying, leaves regrowing, etc. etc. works closely with the Humble Monitor and Joyous Representative. While this job was also an important, if almost "cushy" job, the Administrator of the Changes has also had to take over many of the duties of the Masterful Controller of the Five Seasons. |
| 21 |
Humble Monitor of the Process of Dying the Hidden Valley Spirit Court An overworked spirit responsible for ensuring that the correct number and type of forest creatures and plants dies at the appropriate times, and of the appropriate things. Often has to reign in over-zealous spirits of disease, fire and poison, as will as have the occasional "talk" with greedy spirit animals. |
| 22 |
Joyous Representative of the Process of Birth the Hidden Valley Spirit Court Joyous Representative of the Process of Birth is the equally overworked, but much happier older "sister" of the Humble Monitor, she is responsible for ensuring that the proper number and type of animals and plants are born each year. Often has to reign in over-zealous spirits. |
| 23 |
Masterful Controller of the Five Seasons the Hidden Valley Spirit Court this spirit was once responsible for ensuring that the various seasonal and weather spirits act appropriately. This often included engaging in combat with overly vicious winter spirits, hearding minor spirits of rain in the spring, and ensuring that temperatures change appropriately. While the Administrator was responsible for supervising the effects of the changing of the Seasons, the Masterful Controller was responsible for the actual changes. However, over times (since the valley was lost) the Masterful Controller became discontent with his place within the Celestial Bureaucracy. He attempted to leave; however, until the valley is "found" again (meaning your PCs taking knowledge of it back to the civilized world) he is stuck in the valley. Therefore, he has become petulant and violent. He occassionally uses his own powers, as well as his station to bring havoc to the valley. This includes whipping spirits of fire into frenzies, and causing huge forest fires, and making spirits of wind and rain create horrible storms. This has caused problems, seeing as the Administrator of the Changes has been having to slowly take over the Masterful Controller's duties (which is technically against the laws of the Bureaucracy, and frankly, not what the Administrator is suited), but also has to content with the Masterful Controller, who is only making things worse. Luckily, the Masterful Controller of the Five Seasons has not gotten to the point that he will actively attack any other valley's other major spirits, as he could easily defeat any of the others in a one-on-one situation. |
| 24 |
The Measurer of Growth the Hidden Valley Spirit Court She is responsible for ensuring that all plant and animal growth is within acceptable perameters. Much like the duties of the Administrator used to be, The Measurer's job is incredibly simple, and garners far more respect that its worth. Very few spirits or creatures ever get out of line and grow at an unacceptable rate, and when something does, The Measurer gives a very simple choice to the spirit of the animal or plant: Stop growing or be killed by the Humble Monitor. |
| 25 |
Watcher of Currents Court of Nexus Bloody Hands Many of the bloody hands enjoy, and promote, murders committed in a specific manner. One of this is the innocuously named Watcher of Currents. Who favors those who bound their victims, and dumped them, still living, into one of the rivers of Nexus. He walks along the docks, or sometimes, atop the rivers themselves. The presence of Watcher of Currents is a detestable thing. He smells of human waste and decay, ancient blood and dead fish. The Yanaze River is his favorite of Nexus’ rivers, and along with blood, his body drips with its diseased sludge. In fact, the blood of Watcher of Currents carries every disease that is within the rivers of Nexus, and when rubbed upon the blade of a weapon, even the Exalted suffer from infected wounds. Sanctum: Watcher of Currents lives within the gutted remains of a brown-water barge that sunk in the Yanaze. There, the corpses of those whose thrashing deaths pleased Watcher of Currents litter the ship’s carcass. Some are tethered with lengths of rope, while others are just allowed to float along wherever the currents will take them. |
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The Apothecary Court of Nexus Bloody Hands Sarayn is the First Age name for the berries that make death sap, and it is the Apothecary‘s true name. She is strangely beautiful, her emaciated body the color of ivory, and her lips a bright blue, rather than the usual carmine. So strong is her love of poisons, she maintains a shop within the Cinnabar District that sells poisons, of nearly every type, except for those that may actually hurt a member of the Council of Entities, such as death sap. In addition to poisons that are for sale, she brews a deadly poison from her own blood, and gifts it to those who pledge a kill to her, or whose company she finds pleasing. Unlike most bloody hands, the Apothecary is rarely present at the places of murder. Sarayn has a fairly active life outside of that of a bloody hand, and has little taste for skulking in shadows. This does not mean she loves murder any less than others of her kind, far from it. She has merely surpassed her brothers and sisters in the refinement of techniques. She can perceive the deaths of anyone killed by her poisons. Her services are most often used in the circumstances where a subtle touch is best, meaning that many of her “clientele” as she calls them, are either well-to-do, or professional assassins, or both. Sanctum: The Apothecary’s poison shop is her Sanctum. At night, when the sales of such things is prohibited, Sarayn closes her shop, and takes the form of a beautiful young woman, and enjoys the nightlife that Cinnabar has to offer, such as the theater, or the people who attend it. Many a man has taken her into his bed, and have woken up the next morning, feeling slightly weak and pained, but thoroughly satisfied. |
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Uncle Death Court of Nexus Bloody Hands The bloody hand known as Uncle Death is reviled and hated even more than most bloody hands, and the Emissary just might kill him whenever he has a free moment. Which; of course, the Emissary almost never does. Uncle Death enjoys watching children being murdered, and children murdering, and the children of Nexus know this. There are numerous superstitious rites known by the children of Nexus, intended to keep Uncle Death away from their bedrooms. Some of these rites actually work, while most are little more than comforting placebos. Unfortunately, there are also children willing to call upon Uncle Death, so that he might help them in committing a murder. This requires no rites or rituals, any child within Nexus who expresses a desire to murder is heard by Uncle Death. He gives them advice and soothing words, and turns them from children into tiny monsters. Even more scary are those children who do not need Uncle Death. They don’t need him to convince them, and they don’t need him to trick their victims. These children already have a heart of stone, and they can kill without anyone’s urging. It’s these children that Uncle Death loves the most. Uncle Death is saddened by the brutality of Nexus; however. Children grow up too quickly in Nexus for Uncle Death’s taste. While he is a very real threat, he is only one of many. The children of Nexus, especially the children of Firewander, Nighthammer, and other less affluent areas of Nexus learn quickly to grow past their fears. There is so much to fear in Nexus, they couldn’t survive if they didn’t. Sanctum: Uncle Death’s sanctum lies within the dark corners of the scared little children of Nexus. It is filled with the weapons that children have been killed by and murdered with. As each child gets older, their fear of Uncle Death lessens, the corners of their bedrooms are removed from his sanctum. |
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Observer of Passionate
Destruction Court of Nexus Bloody Hands One of the more powerful bloody hands within Nexus, Observer of Passionate Destruction enjoys murder committed with deep feeling. Anger, lust, an insatiable desire to end life, all these things and more please Observer. Jilted lovers, those seeking vengeance, those killing out of love, and serial killers all find a friend and accomplice in him. Though he prefers brutality over subtly, the methods used to kill don’t matter over much to Observer, as long as feeling burns within the hearts of those committing the crimes. A small and bloody cult that has formed around him. Once, they were merely one of Nighthammer’s many gangs, but now, they are all savage murderers. Of course, Observer is more than willing to betray his cult the second he thinks that they will become a liability. In fact, he’s planning on it. Sanctum: Observer of Passionate Destruction maintains a sanctum in a crumbling warehouse in Nighthammer. There, he lives with his cult. This warehouse is covered in the rotting body parts of those killed in Observer’s name. Heads hang from chains, arms are draped across furniture, and the still fresh torsos and waists of female victims lay in the beds of the cultists. |
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The Burning Inside Court of Nexus Bloody Hands The Burning Inside was once a bloody hand. Now, he is nothing. The Burning Inside was enraptured by the screams of those who died burning, and he encouraged this activity. Unfortunately, in a city like Nexus, this is kind of thing is looked down upon. The Emissary paid him a visit one day, and The Burning Inside prayed for mercy. The Emissary had none. |
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Heteraia, The Madame of Nexus As a cosmopolitan trading city, Nexus naturally holds its share of prostitutes and courtesans. These purveyors of the flesh's delights, male, female, and otherwise, have a patroness in the form of Heteraia. A sympathetic, maternal character, she has little patience for those who mistreat or take advantage of her worshippers. Many a violent pimp or rough customer has felt her wrath. The god-blooded by-plow of a prominent god, Heteraia was once the most prominent and successful Madame in all of Nexus. Time and "gifts" from other gods saw her eventual deification. She most often takes the form she wore just before her elevation to godhood: a glamorous, slightly over-the-top (her trademark was an impossible red hair color), beauty succumbing just a bit to age and rich food. She has been known, however, to take a variety of other forms from time to time. Her one actual temple is the bordello she owned in life (and still takes particular interest in), but all "houses of ill-repute" and many individual prostitutes' dwellings have shrines dedicated to her. |
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Cold Night*, Mistress of Silent Children The Council of Dirges Cold Night is one of the three major Bloody Hand spirits of Chiaroscruro that make up a dark court called "The Council of Dirges". One each for the three tribes that came together to rule the once great city. Cold Night is the Bloody Hand of infanticide by rite of exposure. |
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Femaru, the God of Misfortune Brought On By Hubris.
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Katerina, Asp-Tongued Virgin Also known as the Nexus Termagant, the Green-Eyed Vixen, the Shrew, or "that bitch," Katerina is a patron goddess to Nexus' strong-willed, independent women. She is associated with spinsters, tomboys, and virtually every type of feminine behavior which men find confusing or annoying. Despite her love for women who give men a hard time, she doesn't seem to have any particular bias towards lesbians. Katerina typically appears as a tall, red-haired woman with mocking green eyes and rather vulpine features. She can also take the shape of a fox, shrew, or asp, but does so only rarely. She usually wears men's clothing, but is not averse to dressing up in more gender-appropriate finery for formal occasions. Katerina almost always holds a fan in front of her mouth while speaking, in order to hide her forked tongue. Wily, sharp-tongued, conniving and mercurial, Katerina is quite a trial to deal with, even for her fellow gods. While males of all sorts suffer the most from her superlative cattiness, she also enjoys tormenting women who don't measure up to her in wits or willpower. Most other gods avoid her, and those mortals who worship her often adhere to elaborate rituals designed to ensure that she -doesn't- take a personal interest in them. However, if someone succeeds in proving herself (or much more rarely, himself) worthy in Katerina's eyes, she will treat her as an equal in all respects. In many cases, she transforms such people into spirits so that they may have the potential to be her equal in reality. Katerina frequently takes on human form in order to keep track of (and contribute to) the latest gossip. She particularly delights in exposing the foibles of the proud and arrogant; she even gets away with the occasional oblique attack on the Council of Entities. By contrast, anyone who starts unflattering rumors about Katerina herself can expect to be swiftly tracked down and challenged to a duel by the tempestuous goddess, whose moonsilver fencing saber is every bit as sharp and venomous as her snake's tongue. While the Asp-Tongued Virgin ruthlessly mocks and dismisses any would-be suitors (of either sex), her title is not completely accurate; fifteen years ago, she was successfully seduced by Tybalt, Prince of Cats. Since then, she has ceaselessly pursued the dashing Cat-god. Whether this pursuit is motivated by love, vengeance, or both remains unclear. Katerina tends to explode into ranting frenzies when the name of Tybalt is even mentioned in her presence, and the Prince of Cats offers naught but mysterious smiles and elusive nonanswers to any inquiries regarding the matter. |
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Rufio, the Procurer of Gilded Dreams Rufio is one of the host of Scavenger Lands deities who draw power from envy and desire. However, unlike his brother incubi, mere lust does not satisfy him; only unattainable and forbidden desire holds any spice for the Procurer of Gilded Dreams. For this reason, he is feared and shunned by those who know of him, for the dreams he sends invariably sow discord and strife. In his true form, Rufio is a short, dusky-complexioned man whose sparkling eyes and neatly-trimmed goatee give him a somewhat mischievous appearance. In this guise, he invariably appears bedecked in outrageously flamboyant garb -- feathered caps, fur overcoats, brightly-colored silk trousers, and enough gold jewelry to bankrupt a small nation-state all figure into his unmistakable look. Although he frequently carries ornately decorated weapons, Rufio is a coward who flees from any enemy not obviously his inferior. Rufio travels alone, roving restlessly across the land. He favors cities and towns, simply because there are more people there, but it is quality rather than quantity he desires. If a solitary pilgrim harbors a secret desire which Rufio finds pleasing, he will pursue her just as avidly as he would any city-dweller. Although he is not formally worshiped, he gains power every time someone wishes for something she cannot have. When he comes across a person who lusts after the unattainable, Rufio enters her dreams and sends her beautifully-crafted visions of finally grasping that which she covets. Although he occasionally caters to lust for power, riches, or knowledge, Rufio skews considerably towards sexual desires; in such a case, he takes on the form of the object of desire and uses his Charms to both inflame victims' desire and draw power from their lust. In some rare cases, he even materializes and comes to the victim physically, if he judges that it will be more effective than mere fantasies. Although Rufio's dreams are carefully calculated to stoke, rather than slake, the victim's desire, there invariably comes a point where the victim is either driven to actually attempt to get what he wants, or else to shut out reality and spend all his time in Rufio's fantasy world. In either case, Rufio will quickly abandon him; the first provides closure, while the second betokens a perverse type of contentment. Both render Rufio unable to draw sustenance from the person. Rufio himself desires happiness, as it is the one emotion he is incapable of feeling. He becomes envious and spiteful when he finds people who are truly content. He will expend great efforts to make such people unhappy with their lot, typically by sending them dreams designed to provoke envy, lust and greed. Luckily for the victims, such attacks never last very long in the face of a strong will; unless Rufio can inspire desire for the unattainable in a person, he quickly runs out of power and must depart to find sustenance. Like most other spirits of desire, Rufio is known to the Immaculate Order, who deem him a malicious troublemaker. Although he would like nothing better than to tempt the monks, who doubtlessly harbor oceans of pent-up desire, Rufio is generally too much of a coward to get close enough to them. He gives Immaculates, even mortals and those who are unaware of his presence, as wide a berth as possible. The same principle keeps him from fraternizing with most of his fellow gods, who tend to share the Immaculates' assessment of him. |
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Lanatoxec, the Fallen Star, the Fire-Feathered Serpent Once a mighty god of fire, Lanatoxec was cast out of Yu-Shan after it was discovered that he was using his office as Censor to illegally encourage mortals to worship him. For this crime against the Celestial Order, the Fire-Feathered Serpent was stripped of his station and imprisoned in the most terrible hell imaginable to a fire-spirit: the endless oceans of the West. However, Lanatoxec's peers underestimated him; the fire of his indomitable will, which had once given him the title Unquenchable Flame of Righteousness and was now stoked even higher by hatred for those who had judged him even as they turned a blind eye to the excesses of their Exalted, burned hot enough that even had each drop of rain in all of Creation been itself an ocean, all the waters of all the oceans in all the world would have been insufficient to keep him imprisoned. Lanatoxec burned in the depths, melting the seafloor beneath his watery oubliette and causing it to thrust upward on flows of molten rock. Slowly, over the course of a thousand years, he made his way to the surface, finally bursting forth in a titanic explosion which blotted out the sun with soot and sent tidal waves crashing over islands up to a hundred miles away. The magma continued to flow, forming a new island whose heart was a seething volcano. Over the following centuries, Lanatoxec's anger called forth an entire chain of daughter islands, and animals and plants came to live on them. Bathing in the rivers of lava that coursed through his volcano's veins, the Fallen Star's powers slowly returned to their full strength. He was so consumed with planning his revenge upon the Celestial Gods that he didn't even notice when humans came to live on his islands, and to worship the volcanos. This all changed when the Great Contagion came. Suddenly, Lanatoxec found his haven assaulted by armies of watery Fair Folk. For the first time since escaping his prison, he called upon his full powers, but even his incandescent majesty was insufficient to completely stop the onslaught. Lanatoxec was preparing to spend his last breath uttering a death-curse against Heaven when he suddenly realized that the surviving islanders were praying to him, begging to be saved from the plague and the Fey. When the priests began hurling themselves into his caldera, their self-sacrifice sent new strength blazing into him, and he returned to battle more powerful than ever before, vaporizing the faerie warriors like water droplets exposed to the heat of a blast furnace. When the last of the Fair Folk fled back into the ocean, Lanatoxec turned his attention to the people whom he had never noticed before, but who had given him the strength to defeat his enemies. Their worship reminded him of that he had received in the First Age, and a new plan began to form in his mind. Swimming down a lava flow and manifesting in his full glory before his followers, Lanatoxec told them what they must do to please him. Lanatoxec is a huge winged serpent, feathered and crested in red and orange fire. His eyes are like shining stars, and a fiery glow can be seen emanating from his gullet when he opens his mouth. When he takes human form, he is a dark-skinned, star-eyed warrior dressed in a cape of burning feathers, carrying a spear whose head appears fashioned from molten rock. Although he spent almost 1500 years incommunicado, since the Contagion Lanatoxec has brought himself up-to-date on world events. He knows of the fall of the Celestial Exalted, and revels in the knowledge, feeling that some measure of justice has finally fallen upon the arrogant Celestial Gods. He also knows of the fall of Swan Dragon, and this pleases him even more, as Swan Dragon was the one chosen to replace Lanatoxec in his Celestial office. Lanatoxec bides his time, cultivating his worship and gathering power, fiercely anticipating the day when he will ascend to Heaven and scour Yu-Shan with flame and lava. He savors the irony that the very thing which caused him to be cast from grace, the worship of mortals, will give him the power to exact his revenge. Lanatoxec is worshipped by the entire populace of his island chain, and in return protects them from outside threats. His priests frequently offer animal and human sacrifices, as well as venerating him with all manner of rites and festivals. Their most holy ritual, the Wedding of Fire, occurs every fifteen years when the Inviolate Virgin Priestess, who has been raised from birth as the Flame-Feathered Serpent's most holy servant, casts herself into his volcano. One week after she has been consumed by the lava, Lanatoxec rises from the volcano and inspects all the year-old girls of the islands, who have been collected and brought before him by his priests. He places his brand on the one who pleases him most, marking her as his next High Priestess. Lanatoxec hates all the Celestial Gods. This hatred extends to their Exalted, and he will not suffer a Celestial Exalt to remain on his islands; his worshippers are taught to hate and fear them just as much as the most devout adherents of the Immaculate Order. Gaia is somewhat exempt from his wrath, as she alone spoke out against his punishment, condemning it as needlessly cruel. As a result, he tolerates the presence of Dragon-Blooded, but only if they do not challenge his authority. |
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Evandais the Fair Once, after the fall of the Solar Exalted but many centuries before the Great Contagion, there lived a man named Evandais. Even as a child, his beauty was such that grown men would weep to behold him, and as he grew, he only became more lovely. It was said that he must surely be the child of some god, for no mortal could hope to be so beautiful. Whether or not this was true, he was so comely that gods did, indeed, compete for his favor. Two in particular were even more enamoured of him than the rest: Venus, the Maiden of Serenity, and Ganymedes, the Lover of Men. The two gods wooed Evandais, presenting him with lavish and wondrous gifts in hopes of winning his affection. The young man was flattered and awed by their attentions, but also feared that if he chose between them, he would tempt the wrath of the other, and for months he refused to admit to loving one god over the other. However, he could not continue in this way forever, and eventually confessed his love for the Maiden of Serenity. Venus infused him with godly Essence, raising him to godhood, and spirited him off to her house in Yu-Shan. When Ganymedes learned of this, he flew into a great rage. He was less angered by the rejection than he was by the fact that Evandais had not only taken all of Ganymedes' gifts with him into Heaven, but had also neglected to tell him that he had finally made his choice. He had not even left behind a letter for the god to find. In his anger, Ganymedes spoke a curse against Evandais, making him unable to see the beauty in any who were not as flawless as he. In Venus' pavilion, Evandais suddenly noticed that the goddess' perfect form was marred by a tiny scar on her ankle, inflicted by the death-throes of a Primordial's soul. Immediately, she became repugnant to him, and he fled her presence, weeping and retching as his eyes were assaulted by the sight of the hideous gods squatting repulsively in their majestic jade palaces. Finally, he flew from Yu-Shan and hid in the deepest, darkest cave he could find. After several years languishing in his pitch-black hole, Evandais fashioned himself a blindfold woven from darkness and his own tears, and came back into the world. He did not return to Yu-Shan, because he could not bear to confront the Maiden of Serenity, whom he had hurt terribly with his rejection. Instead, he wandered the land, but could never find the happiness he had once felt. Dejected, he ceased his travels and built a sanctum for himself in the city of Hollow. There, he lived alone for many years. Occasionally, people would visit him, seeking his blessing or his riches, but since none of them were as beautiful as he, so he turned them away. In his loneliness, Evandais sculpted beings out of pure Essence, but these houris, while flawlessly lovely and charming, were not sufficient to mend the wound in his heart. Even though he could look upon them without recoiling, their beauty could never fully erase his love for Venus, or his memory of his cruel abandonment of her. Centuries passed, and the world changed. The Great Contagion came and went; Hollow fell and was rebuilt as Nexus. Through it all, Evandais the Fair stayed in his marble tower, crafting sculptures and automata of heartbreaking beauty. Only occasionally did he don his blindfold and venture forth. Sometimes he would meet people he thought beautiful from their voices and thoughts, but when he dared to look on them with his eyes, he would invariably find them to be hideous. Each time this happened, he lost a little more hope, and today, he spends almost all of his time in his sanctum. Ganymedes regretted his curse almost as soon as it was uttered, but cannot withdraw it and cannot face Evandais, for the same reason that Evandais cannot face the Maiden of Serenity. He often visits Nexus and spends long hours standing in front of Evandais' tower, but always turns away without entering. In Yu-Shan, Venus drowns her memories of him in the Games of Divinity. And in his tower, Evandais sits surrounded by silk and marble, his every need seen to by his houris, his heart filled with despair. |
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Sir Reynard, The Nimble Trickster, The Satirist Sir Reynard is a vulpine-aspected god and shares many of the same "characteristics" his fox bretheren possess (at least in the imagination of humans): cunning, slyness, etc. He delights in practical jokes and confidence schemes, though only when he is angry are the jokes anything but good-natured fun. His main love and sphere of influence, however, is in the arena of satire. He pokes fun at anything and everything with a quick-witted, irreverant gusto. He likes to shake people's complacencies and unexamined assumptions, to jar people into thinking about what they do and why they do it. Sir Reynard detests smugness, condescension, mean spirits, dogma, and obstinate stupidity. Sir Reynard is worshipped mainly by actors, minstrels, writers, and the like, who are the creators and transmitters of satire. Places where these types congregate, as well as their personal spaces, often contain shrines to him. He is also often invoked by those embarking on a practical joke or con. He has saved many a satirist or practical joker from harm at the hands of their victims. Most of his worshippers are inhabitants of the Threshold, especially the Scavanger Lands. Due to the nature of the Immaculate Philosophy, the Realm is... inhospitable to Sir Reynard. The Order frowns upon those who challenge authority and therefore have a special loathing for the fox god. This, of course, is too much for Sir Reynard to resist; he often visits Immaculate monasteries and temples for "fun." Sir Reynard has two main forms: that of a virile middle-aged man of good cheer and crowned with a shock of burning-red hair and that of a typical red fox, though about three times larger. He is, however, adept at shapechanging (all the better to play his tricks) and wears many guises. It is believed that he is in a committed relationship with some god in Yu Shan (thus explaining the bare handful of God-Blooded who can claim to be of his line), though which god he is bound to is unknown. |
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Mingrinde, Southern Goddess of Small Lives In the southern deserts, there are a thousand tiny creatures. Rats and mice fill the sandy desert at night, fleeing the harsh light of the sun and searching for what little food is there. Lizards and snakes sleep in the sun to gain the strength to hunt another night. Beetles hover below the sands, eking out what living they can. Mingrinde is the Goddess of all of these lives, too small to find, too numerous to count. She makes sure that they live, and that they keep the bottom of the desert food chain alive so that greater lives can likewise live on. At least in theory. When the Celestial Hierarchy broke, however, Mingrinde began to move above her station, to use guide her charges toward greater things and more expansive ways of life. Her termites build cities in the vastness, cities that offer inviting shade to desert foxes and weary travelers, and thus bring food to her servants. Swarms of locusts attack small farms, preying on the hard work of the farmers, and destroying civilization bit by bit. Mingrinde is tired of the smallest and most crucial of beings succumbing to the destructive influences of the larger, tired of the lack of recognition she and her charges receive. When she appears, it is rarely good, and she almost always eschews a human form, instead appearing as a great swarm of locusts or bats, whose buzzing and chittering serve as her voice. She is, however, kind to those humans who live in harmony with those around, who befriend the mice and offer respect to the mosquitoes who provide a crucial way for the food chain to recycle itself. To these, she appears as a gloriously beautiful woman, short and trim, with long sand-colored hair that shines brightly in the sun. Her eyes are spheres of black chitin, and her skin is covering in a light down of grey mouse fur. Her robes are made of snakehide as thin and light as silk, in which a hundred little creatures run about affectionately. |
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Anos, Champion of the Undefended. While the feudal ideal runs strong in creation, those below working for those above and those above returning in kind with protection, not all those who find themselves rulers of men feel obligated to those beneath them. For that matter, not all people in creation have a ruler, and many of those who simply live off of the land have no way to protect themselves, being unable or unwilling to take arms against those who would attack them. Anos is the champion of these souls who have no one to defend them, those who do not have the power to stand in the face of the world around them and yet must, and do. Every prayer made on a hopeless battlefield by a farmer wielding only his hoe against bandits or by a simple fisherman looking at the hoisted Lintha banner on the ship bearing down on him, all the silent hope of the ten thousand challenged each day to a battle by those they cannot fight against finds its way to Anos and, if he is near and able to, Anos always steps in to help. Anos appears as a simple man when he is not in battle, graying at the temples and carrying only a sturdy oak staff and the robes on his back. Beneath those robes, however, one with the power to see it senses his surety, his majesty, and his raw power. He walks the roads of Creation, a simple traveler with his eyes always looking for a destination. If he is attacked, he does not fight, simply dematerializing, his robes and staff left behind. He then follows his attackers, waiting for them to again strike an easy target, unable to defend itself. Then, he materializes again, in full and terrifying splendor. When called upon to defend those who fight in hopelessness, Anos appears as a great and fearsome warrior clad in armor of brilliant green jade alloyed from the coins of thousands given to him in tribute by those whose meager fortunes he saved and wielding a giant sword crafted from the heartwood of a cherry tree that still grows in the iciest reaches of the North, where no cherry tree should ever have grown. The armor withstands virtually all attacks without letting a scratch pass through to Anos and the sword cuts as if it were made of the hardest steel, its edge impossibly sharp for any material. Anos can himself destroy a legion of men, but his mercy is infinite and when attackers call off, he always yields, continuing to follow them to make sure they have learned their lesson. If any seek to defend Anos from attack when he is in his traveling aspect, he always assures their victory, for he can fight as well as ten men even when he is without his sword and armor. When the battle is over, he gifts his defender with a small coin made of green jade. Forever after, if a bearer of such a coin finds herself faced with an attacker of much greater strength, Anos will know of it and will appear immediately in his war aspect. |
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The Eight Battle Maidens Long ago, when Creation was young, it was ruled by the Primordials. They created the Incarna to see to the running of their world. Gaia in turn created the Five Great Elemental Dragons. The Great Elemental Dragon of Fire (whom the Immaculates name Heseish), was walking one day by the shores of Lake Inamirito, or the Lake of Flying Passions. He was thirsty, and bent for a drink at the shore. When he raised his head, he was greeted with the sight of the Mars, the Maiden of Battles, hunting Hybroc. His heart was smote with passion. He went to her, asking for her love. She spurned him, and turned her back upon him. This merely made him desire her more. Over the next season, he sent her poetry. She burned it. He made extravagant flowerbeds for her. She floated them away on the River of Tears. He stated his love for her, gently, intently, passionately. She rasped him with the sharp side of her tongue (which was sharp indeed). After a season, he became quite heartsick, and begged all who were near to help him. His brothers mocked him, and his mother could offer only sympathy. Finally, Jupiter, the Maiden of Secrets felt sorrow, and agreed to help him. Jupiter's realm is that of secrets, and she explained how to open Mar's heart to him. I cannot reveal what she said, for it is lost to the mists of Ages, perhaps rightly so. What is known is that after Jupiter's counsel, Hesiesh and Mars joined together as lovers. With two such volatile personalties, it was fated to be a short lived union. However, Fire and War make very passionate bedfellows, so it was perhaps inevitable that their union would produce issue. And so 9 Little Gods were born, all female taking after their mother: The Battle Maidens. After their father and their mother broke with each other, the Battle Maidens sided with their mother. And so they took service in their mothers portfolio. There are currently eight Battle Maidens. The youngest is the least powerful, the eldest the most. All of them have Charms relating to War and Fire. They are all consummate warriors, tacticians and strategists. They wander the world looking for challenging warriors to duel, students to train, and wars to fight well. They often take lovers from the Dragon Blooded. Usually a Fire Aspect, as the immolation from coitus with a Battle Maiden could, and has proven fatal in the past. The one being that the Battle Maidens hate and fear are Solar Exalted. In the First Age, the 4th of the Battle Maidens challenged a Dawn Caste to a duel. He accepted, and when he killed her he used Ghost Eating Technique to kill her permanently. Ever since then, the Battle Maidens have despised all Solars. If they can slay one, they will. But only if they are sure. Otherwise, they will break off battle if it is going against them. |
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Mylis Jade, Watcher on the Brink of Innocence A man’s life begins with his birth and ends with his death, but in the course of a human life, that death comes many times and in many forms. When a young boy first sees his father cry, when he sees his best friend die to measles, when he first truly and irreversibly hurts someone he cares for, Mylis Jade is there. As Jade sees, every moment in the course of a single woman’s life is another death, another change that cannot be truly put back the way it was. Some of these moments are more charged than others, some of these moments change a person’s world-view so that they see the death that lives in their life. Once charged with making sure that these transitional moments went smoothly and were always beneficial to her charges, after the fall of the Celestial Bureaucracy, Jade began to see the opportunity to increase her power base by causing these moments of experience, these tiny deaths when they might not otherwise occur. She is still devoted to the ideal of improving the lives of those she watches, but the improvement is by her standards, and her standards always involve a mind that grows ever closer to the realization that nothing is truly permanent. Those touched by Mylis Jade become cynical, and often so full of pain that the only way they can release it is by inflicting suffering on others, by showing others just how they feel inside. And through all of this, Mylis Jade gains power. Mylis Jade appears as plain and simple woman who nevertheless has intense personal magnetism. Her hair and skin often change colors from appearance to appearance, but her face is always the same, her clothes are always plain. Her court is in the riverlands, not far outside Nexus. In it she sits on a throne crafted from the souls who have given themselves over to the great death in an effort to escape the little deaths that plague her. It shines with a bright red sheen. Surrounding her is a court of rapists and succubi, spirits who steal the innocence from the children of the riverlands. |
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Euclimedes, Mathematicus Magnus, The Divine Geometer In every school, university, library, and center of learning stands a small bust/shrine of Euclimedes, the God of Mathematics. An attendant of Autochthon, the Great Maker, in the time before the Primordials' fall, Euclimedes gave to early humans the powerful tools that are geometry and arithmetic. Number systems, geometric axioms, the laws of logic are all hymns to the Mathematicus Magnus' ears. Under his tutelage, humans have gone on to plumb the depths of algebra, trigonometry, and other, more esoteric, branches of mathematics. Euclimedes himself continues to push the boundaries of his field with divine intelligence, studying the strange and tortured geometries of Malfeas and the Underworld, the mind-bending infinities of Elsewhere. Few beings, human or divine, can comprehend his discoveries, but they absorb the Magus. Euclimedes is the archetype of the absent-minded professor with a great shock of white hair, plain and disheveled clothing, and a faraway look in his eyes. Though his busts are everywhere, his worshippers are mainly mathematicians, engineers, and the like. (Euclimedes is also often invoked by students facing exams. He is known to be quite indulgent to this group, often providing either divine inspiration or ready-made answer sheets to the desperate student who just "can't get it." He is a much-loved figure among this group for this reason.) He has no known God-Blooded descendants, having absolutely no interest in sexuality. He often collaborates with other gods of the architectural and engineering provinces on large projects in Yu Shan and elsewhere (if there is some particular challenge that catches his attention). |
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Firefall, White Lady of the Long Road The Long Road was, once upon a time, the most traveled road in creation. In the first age, it ran from the easternmost border of Creation right into Old Hollow, fuelling the great city with all of the bounties the forests had to offer. It was a great trade route, always kept peaceful by its spirit, Hanu, Guardian of the Way who ruled a whole court of spirits dedicated to keeping the road peaceful and well tended. Firefall grew up, always a sickly child, in a small town that formed around the road. Little more than a toll stop and a trading post for farmers in the area to send their goods on to better paying customers, Firefall's town offered her little in the way of diversion, so she began to talk to the road spirits, who told her tales of those who traveled, and tales of the great cities that dotted its length. She longed to see these things she had heard about, but she did not have money to travel, and her health would not permit her to even if she did. And so she began trading, just as her family did, but in favors rather than in goods. She would clean the road for the local spirit, who would in turn give her word on the conditions in lands far away. She would trade this information with other spirits -- local river spirits welcomed the knowledge that great ships would be floating their way, so they could toss the ships and gain valuables in their depths. She started small, but soon she had enough favors to broker amongst powerful local spirits -- even the spirit of the town itself would come to her for advice on how to manage the years production and harvest, and what the weather would be like in a few months. And one day she convinced the town spirit to grant her God blood, to allow her to better serve him. She saw this as her chance. She began to play to the road spirits for their loyalty and slowly but surely, she managed to gain it. So much so that when Hanu himself stopped by her village to inspect the toll stop, she was able to meet with him and show him that she was much more in touch with his court than he himself was. Admiring her power and her initiative, he granted her true spirithood, so that she could always do well by the road. The first age passed, however, and the great Contagion took many of the small towns along the Long Road with it. Many spirits died and, soon, Hanu felt his own power wane as his road was no longer traveled -- indeed as more than half of it had been swallowed by Wyld. But while Firefall concerned herself with the road, she had always been regarded by other spirits and they supplied her with the essence and strength to keep going. And so, one day, she met with Hanu in the remnants of her old village, and offered to support him if he would give her the Road. The Long Road is now gone but Firefall still holds court. She still has several favors, and is working them together, trying to get her road rebuilt so that she can be truly powerful but more so, so that the tales she heard in her youth will once again be told of the Long Road. She it its memory, and she is its future. |
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Tedd Lazybones, the Tired Baron In the Guild, there circulates a saying, perpetuated by chipper and naive members to refer to anyone who doens't glory in the fact that they belong to the Guild. The saying is "Cheer up, Lazybones, look where you are!" This is supposedly meant to be a rousing speech, but in reality, it is an invocation of quite possibly the laziest little god in Creation, Tedd Lazybones. Tedd's story began long ago, in the First Age. Tedd was once little more than a small landowner in the East, who found a career in the buearcratic maze of Hollow. Tedd used to be happy, a father of three, gifted with a loving wife, a pliable mistress, and enough power to get by in luxary without drawing the attentions of his betters. Yes, Tedd was gifted with so much, and he knew it. Then it all changed. A streak of bad luck flushed much of his resources out into the river, and with that loss, his mistress left him. His youngest son came down with one of the plagues running rampant through Hollow. His oldest son, his heir, was fooled into following a Dawn Solar on a hunt, and never returned. His daughter, while tending to her little brother, was pulled into a dark alley in the market, and murdered, after some vile lowlife thugs had defiled her. The three men had been found by an investigator amongst the Dragon-Blooded, but one of the men was the nephew of a Solar merchant, and got off scot-free, elaving his fellows to hang. His wife went mad with grief, and drowned herself one morning before Tedd woke. And so Tedd found himself, minus a wife, minus a heir, a daughter, with hardly a coin to his name, working on the same files, over and over again. His superiors, having worked with Tedd for so long, wouldn't bother him with any difficult jobs, and so Tedd settled into a lazy equilibrium, filing papers at the last minute, and going back to sit at his desk moping, and drawing out his papperwork for as long as he could put it off. Soon enough, the palpable sense of loss and futileness permeated the beaurcratic office surrounding Tedd, grinding an entire section of the ministries to a halt. By this time, the Great Curse had begun to take hold, and the life of one terminally depressed individual and his effect on others hardly seemed worth noticing. So it was that a file for godhood found its way into Tedd's in box. Looking over the paperwork, Tedd hatched upon a brilliant idea. Taking great care, Tedd methodically erased the previous handwriting on the file, and filled his own name in, appending the surname "Lazybones" as a distraction. Placed into the out box, Tedd sat back and procrastinated even further, watching as Hollow began to topple around him. Still, from even the smallest action, epic lives can flower, and so it was that the paperwork for "Tedd Lazybones, the Tired Baron" found its way back to the Celestial Beaurcracy. Looking over the paperwork (which was impeccable, if slightly off), approval for the investiture of godhood was quickly set upon, in perhaps the last act of expedient paperwork in any beauracracy. Soon Tedd, now forever Tedd Lazybones, found his body losing its grip on Creation, and soon enough he became a non-entity in his office, an ethereal spirit of the grinding workweek, the futile nature of paperwork, and all the things in life that chewed people up and spit them back out with a dank hole where their motivation used to be. And so it is to this day, that Tedd Lazybones continues to do his job, making sure no one else does. He knows he doesn't do it for himself, but still he occasionaly forms a cult in the bottlenecks of beauracracy. That's just the sort of thing a little god does after all, and so long as he does that, no one will notice him, they'll leave him be. So, paradoxically, by lacking any motivation whatsoever, he's found himself one of the most motivated little gods in the Celestial Beauracracy. It is a paradox that drives most Immaculate monks who must deal with Tedd to earth-shaking anger, and even further infuriates the Sidereals working their influences to find Tedd sitting at their desk, grinding all their precious fate-weaving to nothingness. For, although Tedd lacks any proof, he is sure that the streak of bad luck was either the result of a Sidereal's careless fate-altering, or the more suspiciously, the *deliberate* fate-altering of his life. Well, don't just sit there moping, cheer up, lazybones! |
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Wee Winkie The town of ______ was once a big city, but is now a small hamlet. In the First Age, it was big enough to have it's own guardian spirit, whose name is lost to time. Now, however, they call it Wee Winkie Wee Winkie appears as a whispy figure in nightcloaths, and long nightcap. He is tall and guant, kinda like a faerie, and has a long nose. Every night, a little after sundown Wee Winkie runs through the town of ________, knocking on doors. One knock means they house is safe and secure. Two knocks (rapid) could mean a stray candle is burning or a serial rapist is hiding in the clauset...Wee Winkie is not powerful enough to specify. If the candle is buring, though, Wee Winkie will not knock twice IF THE OWNER IS AWARE OF IT, but if it has sliped his mind, Wee Winkie gives two knocks. The knocks are small and quiet but audible throught the house. The inhabitants like Wee Winkie, and offer him gifts occasionally. Not much violant has happened in ___________, so most Wee Winkie stories involve a stray candle or animal pen left open. The Immaculates are none too fond of Wee Winkies level of internation with normal folk, though, and intend to, at some point, do something about him. |
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