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10 minutes later, I learn that I'd missed an exclamation point (are they called 'exclamation marks?' Idunno, and I'm not gonna bother looking it up), that was supposed to be in there, and this prevented my code from executing properly. Added the exclamation point, and it now works flawlessly. If I hadn't been worried about disturbing my neighbours, I'd probably be screaming, swearing, and yelling at the top of my lungs. Programming is an awful, horrible experience, that makes me want to burn any technology more advanced than a screwdriver.

So anyway, are you familiar with the concept of 'true faith'? It sometimes shows up in urban fantasy, as a neat way to have vampired be repelled by crosses, without having to get into the theological implications. Basically, the premise is as follows: if you truly believe in something (a religion, a cause, or some other ideal), you can channel that faith through an appropriate symbol. While this applies most commonly to religious symbols, Vampire the Masquerade once gave the humorous example of a rich person (possibly a banker, I cant remember) warding off a vampire with his credit card. It allows you to hit monsters with a 'the power of Christ compels you', but without explicitly needing a particular religion to be true. It also comes with the benefit, that someone who's just putting up a facade will not be able to harness the true faith. Much fun and drama to be had.

One of the many ideas I have filed under "stories I am totally gonna write one day, I'll get around to it any minute now" (it's a long lable on the folder), is to have a dedicated organisation of monster hunters, who use an assortment of symbols to channel faith. While a cross would probably be a fairly prominent symbol, I like to imagine that a lot of hunters would wield the logo of their organisation as a 'focus'. Not because it has any inherent power, but because that logo represents their organisation, and by extent their cause. And any cause that matters enough for someone to risk their life hunting supernatural horrors, has got to qualify as 'true faith'.

Since I'm an agnostic atheist myself (don't believe in a god, but acknowledges that you technically can't disprove the notion) I find the idea of a monster hunter channeling a secular ideal interesting. There's just something compelling about warding off a monster, not through divine intervention, but by smiting them with the power of THE INDOMITABLE HUMAN SPIRIT! ...uh, I mean, 'determination and love for your fellow man', or whatever. You could even get away with having an analogue to christian prayer, through the recitation of personal mantras, or some sort of hunter's code. And you just know that some dramatic fucker would be doing those recitations in latin, just because it sounds cool (it's me, I'd be that dramatic fucker). The fact that the theatrics boosts the confidence of the person in question would also mean that it genuinely works to strengthen their conviction, even if a lot of the less dramatic (read: boring) people might roll their eyes at it.

Was it really though? Look at the things done in the name of 'rooting out the devil'. Every fucking decade, a new satanic panic emerges, and something innocous is considered flat out evil (well, usually in the US, but we do see similar things in the rest of the world on occasion). Every single time, people get needlessly hurt.

And don't get me started on how 'good christians' will blame everything they don't like on the devil. Kid came out as gay? Satan corrupted them. Natural disaster? Sometimes it's God smiting the wicked, but if it affects them, personally, it's probably Satan. Did something objectively awful? The devil made them do it. Which makes them sound like pretty shit christians to me, but what do I know. Depressed/mentally ill? Sounds like Satan's work. Go pray about it, or something like that.

And every single time, without fail, the solution is to put somebody through absolute hell. Maybe it's to drive out the devil, or maybe it's targetting some minority that's considered in league with him. Either way, it's gonna be pointlessly cruel. And sometimes, it drives an already suffering person to do something drastic. Something that will inevitably be blamed on the devil, rather than the things they were put through.

A lot of this is the kind of stuff, that would have any loving god bar you from the pearly gates. On the other hand, its the kind of cruelty that the devil would absolutely love. The kind of misery that he would wish to spread.

While I get that the original quote is about how you can't guard yourself against something you refuse to acknowledge, it still misses the most fascinating (in a fucked up way) part of this.

A prophecy, you say? Yeah, we get that a lot. While they're a rarer sight than they used to be, I'd still say that a solid 1/5th of all great quests start with a prophecy.

Oh, it speaks of some horrible fate? Yeah, that's also a common sight. Honestly, I wouldn't worry too much about it if I were you. Seriously. I know it's easier said than done, but fighting fate is rarely a good call. A lot of the time, doing so only seems to cause the prophecy to snap back like a rubber band, and leave things worse than before.

As far as possible, you should always try to work within the bounds of your prophecy. If you're destined to fall to a warrior of a certain culture, don't go comitting genocide. Strictly speaking, a "fall" doesn't have to mean death. It can just mean defeat, like getting your ass handed to you in a game of chess. But the second you attempt that genocide, your fate is sealed. And it's not going to be pretty. By accepting the inevitability of the prophecy, but trying to shape it in your favour, you give yourself the best odds.

And no, it doesn't always work. Sometimes, the prophecy states that you have to kill a child to survive. It's uncommon, and usually only happens to people who'd happily kill a child anyway, but it does happen. Doesn't matter what you do, fate will force you into a confrontation with that kid. I'd suggest you simply accept your fate, but I recognize that's easier said than done. Especially if you feel like you have things left to do. So while I don't condone infanticide, I understand why some people are driven to that point by their prophecies. But I do sincerely recommend that you get some therapy instead, and maybe have a lawyer look over the prophecy for loopholes. Preferably someone who's used to infernal contracts.

And sometimes, the prophecy is more about a choice than a destined fate. Stuff like "If you go on an adventure, your life will be glorious yet short". Those prophecies are the most convenient, in that you get to make a choice. Then again, these prophecies usually only happen to people whose choice are already a given. Just remember, that while you get to pick your own outcome, these prophecies tend to be the least flexible in how much you can bend their wording. You make your choice, and you will be held to it.

Sometimes, a person is too dangerous to live. It's not a decision to be taken likely, and ideally not by an individual person, but if push comes to shove, you may not have much of a choice. However, things get a little more complicated when that person is a god. Maybe they're empowering a wicked ritual. Perhaps their legions of darkness are scouring the lands. Or, in some cases, they've found a way to directly ruin the world, such as consuming all life. Hell, maybe you're just having a bad day, and decided to take out your frustrations, by upending the natural order. Either way, this god needs to go. But how do you accomplish such a feat?

Your first order of business, should always be to consider the oriign of their divinity. While some gods are just inherently powerful, many have a concrete source that they draw power from.

Some gods are powered by the faith of their followers. In that case, you could try to convert the followers away from their faith. The simplest way to accomplish this, would probably be to undermine the image of their god. Doing so is, unsurprisingly, going to attract the attention and ire of the god in question. As such, some might prefer a simpler solution. Well, 'simple' in the sense that you don't have to be a mastermind to pull off a genocide. Of course, if ethics is even remotely a concern, this option goes right out the window. Either way, you would do well to remember that these deities are shaped by the faith of their followers. Failure to kill their faith may simply twist them into something more... vengeful.

Other deities are bound to places or monuments. Theoretically, defacing these places could serve to harm the residing god. In practice, you're probably more likely to piss them off. Unless you have the resources to completely drain a lake, cut down a forest, or level a mountain, these are hard to deal with. One approach, the one I'd recommend, is to study your target's portfolio. You may not be able to drain the lake, but a god of fishing is still going to be tremendously weakened if you poison all the fish. Admittedly, gods of fishing are unlikely to be the primary targets of deicide, but I hope my point comes across regardless. No matter your approach, you will probably have to engage in some eco-terrorism. And given that these sorts of deities tend to be extremely regional in their power, it might be easier to simply contain them, rather than kill them outright.

Some deities are tied to concepts, rather than places. Similarly to those powered by faith, they are best combatted by undermining the concepts they draw on. This is... tricky, to say the least, especially if they embody very broad ideas. Often times, they are best combatted, not in a span of years, but over generations. One of the more succesful methods of disposing of such deities, is to found a new religion, that explicitly labels their sources of power as sinful. While this does require the legwork of getting your religion off the ground, it can serve as a potent way to deprive your target of power, and keep them that way. Ideally, you would also want to paint the deity in question as a sort of demonic figure, hellbent on leading the faithful into damnation. While this technique is unlikely to bear fruit during your lifetime, it may give your descendants a shot at finishing the work you started.

In fact, killing a god is very likely to require years, or even centuries, of setup. While some people are just built different, your average Joe won't be able to go toe to toe with the divine. Your best bet will almost definitely be to slowly bleed them of power, until they're weak enough to be finished off. A process that you may not live to see the end of. But if time is of the essence, there are still ways to go about it. While this works best in combination with the previous suggestions, it could still raise your odds of victory from "insignificant", all the way up to "unlikely".

"The enemy of my enemy". Every god will have someone who dislikes them. Demon princes, gods of opposing portfolios, rivals of the same portfolio, there is always someone. Making a deal with that 'someone' to provide you with a boost of power, or other forms of support, could constitute the most direct boost of power you will get. Just remember that such power usually comes at a cost. And believe me when I say, that it won't always be worth it.

Make sure to pick up any magical artifacts you can find. Even if their exact powers are unclear, you never know what you might need. Many a god has been slain because their attacker happened to be in possession of the "sewing needle of god slaying" that some bored wizard cooked up five millennia ago. Obviously, having an artifact, and knowing how to use it can be two completely separate beasts. But it's not like you've got all that much to lose, in this kind of matchup.

Get. Some. Fucking. Allies. A party of fellow lunatics, an army of angels or demons, the most powerful nations in the realm, I don't care. But if you're going up against a god, you do not want to go alone. In fact, you'll probably die, even with allies. But at least this way, someone might finish the job.

And try to fill your hair with as much gel and colouring as you can. Statistically, outragous hairstyles tend to increase your odds of success, if only marginally. But margins matter, with your kind of opponent. As for why this is the case... fuck if I know. I don't make the rules, I just observe them.

And now, for the last part. The thing that people always tend to skip, before they go storming off. For your own sake, I suggest you refrain from making that mistake, and instead heed my warning. Killing a god is only the first step. Arguably the hardest, but that does not make what comes after less important.

Always consider how closely tied the target of your quest is to their domain. Some gods are akin to symbiotes, or perhaps parasites. They might draw power from their portfolio, but they have no ties beyond that. These gods can be safely killed. But some gods, especially the more powerful ones, hold more weight than that. They are not just drawing power from their domain. They are their domain. Killing such a god, is like collapsing a wall. Anything tied to that wall is going to be gone. And you better hope it wasn't load bearing for the larger structure.

When dealing with firearms, there is a saying that "you should never aim at something you do not intend to shoot". Similarly, you should never try to kill a god, unless you're prepared to deal with the ramifications. Sometimes, it can be circumvented. A new god takes the place of the slain, and life goes on. Possibly even you, if you play your cards right. Or maybe a different god simply absorbs the portfolio into their own. Better hope you don't accidentally create a more powerful monster in that process. But hey, you did read the fine print on that deal you made to gain your god-slaying strength, right?

00:30 "Wait, why can I no longer select the character? I just tested that, how did it break?"

00:50 "Wait, where's the navigation path? There's supposed to be a visible naviation path"

01:20 "What do you mean the array is empty? Just take the points from the navigation agent, and put them in the array. Why is that not happening?"

01:45 "Fuck, I forgot to call the function. No wonder it doesn't work"

01:47 "Fuck, I'm now calling the function, and it still doesn't work"

02:15 "Okay, so every single function runs smoothly, but for some godforsaken reason the navigation agent refuses to make a path"

02:20 "What do you mean 'destination not reachable'? It's right there on the tilemap. Is something wrong with the navigation lay-"

02:20 (+ a few seconds) "...Why do the tiles not have a navigation layer?"

02:25 "At long last, the navigation agent works. Now to test the function that maps it onto the tiles, and... fuck, it crashed again"

02:55 "HEYY, it works. Well, the line that's meant to visualize the path doesn't appear, but that's a pretty quick fix."

03:00 "Something is wrong. I don't know if it's the line, the pathfinding, the thing that maps the path to the tiles, or if my computer just fucking hates me. Either way, I am tired, and I'm leaving this for future me to deal with.

My jumping off point would be a somewhat modern tech level, but with magic to compensate for things like the square cube law, and other such inconveniences.

Elves would definetely be some sort of neurally linked mecha that looks like a 1-to-1 with a humanoid body. My mental image is something akin to The Dancer of the Boreal Valley (Dark Souls 3), except maybe a little less creepy. Probably either made of wood or ivory, depending on whether we're going for wood- or high elves. Definitely heavy on the magic and physics-defying bullshit. Probably the least grounded of my concepts. The fighting style is absolutely just a copy-paste of the aforementioned dancer, perpaps entertwined with some magical spells to keep the battlefield under control.

Dwarves, on the other hand, seem like the kind to make something more mechanical. More akin to a crab or a spider, than a humanoid. And, of course, brimming with enough firepower to level a mountain. I also imagine they'd prefer a more manual control method than the elves. The entire cockpit is filled with buttons, levers, and gauges of all kinds. Probably no fancy sword-dances here, you'll just get covered in depleted uranium from the minigunfire, until you're too weighed down to dodge the laser-guided missile covered in runes of de-atomization that just got launched.

With the orcs, it's really tempting to just rip off Warhammer 40k. Just a big pile of scrap, that is somehow able to go toe to toe with everyone else. I really want to be at least remotely creative with it, but I am to WAAAGH-pilled to ignore the immaculate vibes of a Mad Max mecha. I also like to imagine that, while the mech itself is piloted by a single orc, it is also crawling with engineer-teams of goblins, who will graft on any salvage taken from fallen enemies. A walking testament to the sheer power of stubborness and spaghetti code.

As for the undead, I can imagine two primary options. Option 1 is kind of like the orcs. Just recycled mechs, stitched together from what others have made. Option 2, however, is a bit more interesting. The skeleton of some large creature (maybe an elephant, maybe the fossilized remains of a dinosaur), mangled and retrofitted into the rough, well, skeleton of the mech. After that, all manner of tech gets grafted onto it. In the end, the entire body is reanimated, enslaved to the will of its master. So instead of having the pilot as a single point of failure, the entire things is, for lack of a better word, "alive". It would be quite a pain in the ass to kill, but probably not as smart as a pilot. Hell, you could even invoke some proper body horror by having it be more of a cyborg, with organic and electronic components being so intertwined, that you can't tell were one ends, and the other begins.

One project I never ended up finishing (which is most of them), started with the sentence "subterranean steampunk society with magic", and just kind of evolved from there. It was intended as the setting of a Pathfinder campaign, but that kind of fizzled out before I managed to do that much fleshing out.

The first question that I had to answer, was "why is everyone hiding underground?". At first, I answered with "Zombies made the surface uninhabitable". But then I had to figure out why they weren't bothering the underground. To that, the answer became "photosynthesis". The zombies were controlled by a parasitic plant, and would wither without sunlight. Suddenly I had a (relatively) unique idea, that arose from attempting to justify my premise.

Another problem I had to solve, was the eternal bane of anyone trying to add a mysterious past to their setting: elves. Because those pointy-eared bastards can, and will, make it difficult to justify knowledge being lost, when the last several centuries are all within their living memory. Could've just said "there are no elves", or maybe said they'd always had more limited lifespans, but 'simple and reasonable' have never been my thing. Anyway, I settled for having their lifespans be tied to their gods, who were themselves tied to the nature on the surface. When the elves were forced to abandon their surface, their lifespans were reduced dramatically (to "only" ~150 years). As for how they coped with that sudden decrease, I am quite fond of dark and brooding architecture, so the answer became "not very well". Instead, they turned to undeath, and now reside in gigantic necropolises (necropoli?). Some others decided to adapt to their new environment, and basically just became underground forest elves. A non-neglible amount simply decided to merge with human societies.

I recently watched a video, that was reviewing the latest book in a series popularized by BookTok (I am easily amused by criticism of shoddy media). One thing that was incredibly important to the plot of the book, was a particular metal, that prevented magic from functioning in its presence (unless that became inconvenient, in which case the author would just ignore that property), and was also very rare. Save for the parenthesis, nothing odd about it, right? Unfortunately, the author kinda dropped the ball. Going from the metal being introduced as so rare that a blacksmith had to melt down a pair of daggers to create some baubles, to having a bloody prison made of the stuff. No explanation, you're just expected to think that those two things make sense together. And I remember watching the video, hearing the reviewer point out that inconsistency, and going "well, clearly the metal is rare, because they made an entire prison of it". But, here's the thing: my stupid joke could actually be a legitimate explanation (in a better written story).

Because, let's be real, if a magic-cancelling metal was discovered in most fantasy settings, it would be capitalized on.

Do you like being fireballed? Statistically, the answer is likely to be "no". So obviously, outfitting at least part of your army with anti-magic armour is something of a no-brainer.

Mages shielding their army with magic? Give your arrows anti-magic tips, and now that shield won't do shit.

Don't have magic powers yourself? Get some jewelry incorporating the metal, and now you'll be harder to assasinate.

Even something as stupid as an entire prison built of the stuff could be explained. The book states, that the metal is potent enough to completely nullify the powers of a powerful magic-user, with naught but a pair of bracelets. So having the prison be built in a mostly empty mine, could work. Or maybe it's the prestige project of a previous ruler (as history shows, those could be quite insane).

etc.

And hey, maybe the metal used to be abundant. So wasting it on all kinds of stupid shit could be justified. But when it runs out, suddenly you've got a disaster on your hands. Now, you might wanna limit military equipment to defense of the homeland, because any equipment made of the stuff would be literally impossible to replace, and hard to recover from enemy territory. And any object made of the material would, retroactively, become extremely valuable. It could show up in anything, from weapons to cutlery, with any uses being prestigious heirlooms.

And if a few scant sources remain active? Those things become symbols of power. That stuff might be worth a small civil war (or feud of noble houses), in order to control them. There is so much potential for drama, in both story and worldbuilding, from that alone.

Option 1: you have a confused eldritch monstrosity, that immediately decides to eat the attendees. Have you ever had to clean up after a rampaging shoggoth? Probably not, because when the "comedians" aren't killed by their own prank, they usually flee the scene, leaving it to whatever poor schmuck pissed off the local wizard council this week.

Option 2: the convention contains people with so fucked up tastes, that it leaves the shoggoth traumatized. To put that into perspective, 90 % of those things hardly even qualify as sentient. They don't even have survival instincts, because being an amorphous, eldritch abomination the size of a truck, usually puts you at the top of the food chain by default. And since they certainly don't pass the harkness test, I don't wanna know what some of you people did to them, that leave them gibbering in a corner of the center when response teams arrive.