Po-Motri-Cia, Astrophysical Cat Wizard

Chaotic Neutral Archfey of Spirals, Worms, and Obsession

Domains: Artifice, Chaos, Charm, Madness Subdomains: Toil, Protean, Captivation, Insanity Favored Weapon: Whip Symbol: A worm curled into a loose spiral Sacred Animal: Worms Sacred Color: Blue, purple

The temptation of the Demon Lords is not merely for mortals. The eternal paths that the Ravager Worm Yhidothrus carves through layer after layer of reality have attracted the attention of countless mortals and immortals alike who seek out the secrets that the great Demon Lord holds. Not a single one of them returns whole, if at all, and this does not change for creatures of great influence like Ioslon.

Once a revered craftsman among the Fey, Ioslon became curious of what hid within the boundless depths of the Spiral Path–Yhidothrus’ realm–and that curiosity quickly, pardon the pun, spiraled into obsession. Building himself a vessel he believed could survive the ravages of Abyss and Worm alike, Ioslon and a crew of his sycophants and faithful descended into the Path and, within a mere month, vanished beyond means of communication both magical and mundane for several centuries. Like many who’ve performed the very same foolish act, Ioslon was swiftly delegated to a mere footnote in the dusty tomes regarding the Ravager Worm, standing out only for his notable status as an Archfey.

That very same status is perhaps what ended up saving him from destruction, not that he ever said. His return was not a triumphant affair with ribbons fluttering through the air, no. Only a handful even knew he had returned at all until rumors of his workshop reopening began to circulate, though none were allowed inside. It was only when Ng the Hooded himself stepped up to the door and requested entry to the craftsman’s workshop that it was revealed what had happened to Ioslon. A writhing body of composite millions, a strange obsession, fiendish magic used to twist the world into unearthly shapes. Bringing the Abyss into the First World was usually a punishable offense, but Ioslon had plans for these exotic materials that the Hooded demigod found interesting and an assurance that stayed the Eldest’s hand:

“I have learned what I needed to from Yhidothrus.”

Ng was the first to receive a gift from the Beloved By Worms. It’s not known what Ioslon said and gifted to each of the Eldest and Archfey who visited in turn, but it has similarly quelled their anger for the time being, allowing the writhing Archfey to work in relative peace towards his… “goals.”

True Neutral Great Old One of Earth, Geology and Pedology*

*the study of soil

Domains: Earth Subdomains: Caves Favored Weapon: Sling Symbol: A silver ring around a rough stone. Sacred Animal: Worm Sacred Colors: Silver, brown, tan

Of all the Great Old Ones both great and small, few are more obscure than Clorpt, the Sifter, also known as the Soil Scholar, the Dirt Scholar, the Worm, or the Nilpotent, often earning itself nary a paragraph in the writings of occult scholars and the labyrinthine libraries in the Dominion of the Black. Whereas many Great Old Ones are known for their immense power, Clorpt is known for its lack of power and its lack of interest in obtaining more.

Little more than a foot long, Clorpt is more or less as harmless as the porous, metallic earthworm it resembles, despite its rather skillful control of earth and stone. It outright avoids combat by making use of its power to burrow through anything, and it refuses to burrow into living tissue for fear of contaminating the samples within its body. What samples, one may ask? Dirt.

The Sifter possesses knowledge of all manner of soils, stones, silts, and sands in a capacity that can be described as “awe-inspiringly exhaustive.” There is no being in any plane or on any planet that knows more about dirt and rock than Clorpt, a fact it is disproportionately proud of. Its interest in its field of study is so all-consuming that it refuses to communicate with anyone about anything else; any attempt at learning of the creature itself is met with annoyed silence as it attempts to tunnel away from the conversation and continue its ‘work.’

≽^🜕⩊🜕^≼ target acquired.

≽^◉⩊◉^≼

Margund Romarich is a Warmain of the Bleak Host who puts existence to the test of truth, inflicting both physical and spiritual violence to discover those who are are capable of living with a full understanding of the truth of their life, and, having found them, dispatching them to nonexistence. They bare the great spiked spear Hecatonchires, which is named Usurpation. 

Teja Eberwulf is a Deceiver who loves you, but not the falsehood that is your material existence and experience of the world. They are an abstract contagion, violating the boundary of definition between things and the world to let the concrete meaning of things bleed out into symbolic interaction with the world. 

Gemalfin Torlue is a Mimic, a patchwork god built from the mutilated Estates of Imperators killed in the Great War. They embody false ideas that we still have about the Estates of Contagion, Semiotics, Freezing, and the color Indigo. Their existence conceals a secret twisting blasphemy of the void that would unravel the world when their existence ceases. 

Dynamene Kalanos is a Strategist plotting the murder of the world. Their vice is sloth, and they are dying of slow, creeping petrification. 

Montanoceratops a ceratopsian dinosaur that lived during the late Cretaceous in North America.

This herbivore was about 2.5 meters long.

The thing about Iolithae Septimian is that she tells lies, right. She tells lies and then sometimes they become truths (or parables, or myths), and there's a whole bunch of chaos that can arise from that? I think I'm getting that right but that's not entirely the point of this one. I'm getting off track. Apologies.

Okay, so Iolithae Septimian speaks the sacred lies, and at one point turned the sea to salt. This is already sort of tangential, she's kind of a huge deal, but we're given this advice to deal with her:

If you should meet her walking in the world bow before her for she is sacred; bring her oil and fine cloth; bow before her, three times bow; but she is Iolithae Septimian, and you must not let her speak. I do not know how you can prevent it but you must not let her speak.

And the thing is, right. Okay. I must not let her speak. This is harder than it sounds, but alright.

What if I kiss her.

Yes, I know that's a horrible idea, but, like- She must not speak. That's how you avoid horrible tragedy, and stuff. And- LOOK!

AS A LESBIAN, I'M JUST SAYING, IT PROBABLY WOULDN'T HURT TO TRY???

Categorically it's not going to go well. I simply do not think that it's possible to attempt this and come out of it completely unscathed.

But, like. There's a chance I kiss her and we make out a little bit, and then she says something about my attraction to her? Which automatically becomes a lie, I lose interest and wander away, and she keeps it in her pState for a while as a way to remember a love that could have been?

But that's highly unlikely.

What's more likely is that our lips touch and I am instantly annihilated and replaced with a me-shaped statue made entirely of salt, or something equally debilitating like that.

Call the pState something like "[Their Name's] Perfectly Normal Solution to the Falseness of the World", with the bullet points

Those who hear the solution believe that it will work.