#oldgods.cd

The priests of the Old Gods, modern mortals who’ve given themselves over to the old ways.

Celavis, Beloved of Dumat. A cryptid from the Foxfire Bramble, who deals in mysterious keys. Keys to open doors, and wounds, and secrets; it’s never quite clear what each one is for, until the moment it finds its use. She traded her voice to Dumat many centuries ago, in return for this power, and most days she does not regret it. The Silent One does not mind what she does with her power, so long as she comes when she’s called, and she uses the opportunity to do great good from the shadows. But some days she watches the mortals, their easy camaraderie, and she remembers what it was like to be a real person, and she aches.

Roach, Beloved of Razikale. A young sellsword who was working on the crew of a pirate ship when the ship had an ill-fated encounter with the leviathan. The moment he laid eyes on her, he decided she was his Charge; she should have slain him where he stood for the insult, but decided to keep him around, instead. Her gift gives him incredible regenerative power, to the point where he’s nearly impossible to kill. Despite his growing fame as a mercenary, she continues to see him as an insignificant little mortal; he’ll do whatever it takes to earn the admiration of the one he loves, even if it was rather doomed from the start.

Mavir, Beloved of Zazikel. Proprietor of a travelling merchant’s caravan, unique among the priests in that he isn’t actually aware that he’s a priest. Devotees of the Windsinger are taught to give kindness and hospitality to all travelers, and he takes that to heart more than most. He’s had several encounters with the mysterious masked Skydancer, and they’ve always ended in unexpected good fortune for his business. He’s half-convinced that he’s blessed by the Windsinger Himself, and makes a habit of leaving out little snacks and trinkets. Zazikel is entranced by the mortal, but a little shy about setting things right; they’ll tell him, eventually, just... maybe tomorrow...

Shir, Beloved of Lusacan. Before she came to the attention of the Old Gods, Shir was a devoted priestess of the Shade, attempting to grow Shade parasites from a sealed prison she’d discovered. Sensing an opportunity to destroy one of his competitors, Toth led her to the resting place of Lusacan, telling her that the Watcher’s vast energy would be the perfect breeding ground for more of the parasites she held so dear. She slayed Lusacan’s previous priestess and led the god back to her temple in the Carrion Canyon, where her cult could tend to him properly. Their worship stopped him from being destroyed outright, and he lives a tortured existence, always with her voice crooning in his ear.

Vaska, Beloved of Andoral. An archivist of lost souls, who uses the Chained’s powerful binding magic to settle restless spirits in the Cairnstone Rest. Their library is a historian’s paradise, filled with centuries worth of knowledge, straight from the source. They knew Andoral’s original face, thousands of years ago; they tried to stop him from taking the form of an Emperor, but were cast aside. Binding him beneath the Shifting Expanse was an act of pure desperation, and they’ve been in hiding ever since. His power has granted them supernaturally long life, and as much as they ache to join the spirits of their ancestors, they’re bound to this plane for the foreseeable future.

Notrath, Beloved of Toth. Born a prince of a powerful Arcane empire, but stolen away as an infant and denied his birthright. Though Notrath was raised among commoners, his caretaker whispered stories of his homeland as he grew. When he came of age he returned home, expecting a royal welcome. Instead he found the monarchy had been deposed. He lashed out at the citizens, furious- what was a king with no kingdom to rule? In this lowest moment Toth found him, brought him into his warm embrace. Together, they would burn the world down, destroy those who dared scorn them, and they would build something glorious from the ashes. (So Toth promised him, anyway. Would he really deign to share the spotlight with a mortal?)

The Old Gods, then and now.

Dumat, God of Silence. The most powerful of the Old Gods at their prime, now getting by on his reserves and biding his time. His domain is a portion of the Foxfire Bramble, a void-like maze with neither light nor sound, where even Shadow dragons lose their way and disappear. He has multiple plans in motion, and surely has ulterior motives, though he's largely an unknown even to his fellow pantheon. He does not speak.

Razikale, Goddess of Mystery. The second most powerful at her prime, once legendary for her prophecies. While most of the Old Gods are disdainful of dragonkind, she has a certain fondness for Waterborn oracles despite herself. She’s taken the form of a massive leviathan that haunts the Leviathan Trench, feeding on tales of the horrors of the deep. More animal now than she once was, she’s no longer capable of speech. Her attempts at telepathy often wreak havoc on mortals; the touch of her vast mind causes others to spout prophecies in her name.

Zazikel, God of Freedom and Chaos. The most mobile of all the Old Gods, they can go wherever there is Wind to be found. In the old days they took little interest in founding temples or amassing followers, and were looked down on as fickle and empty-headed. The joke is on the others- though they may not be all-powerful, they’re in no danger of fading anytime soon. While not necessarily a benevolent being, they’re more likely to hand out blessings than curses; ulterior motives require the ability to think ahead, an ability they no longer possess. They’re often mistaken for a form of the Windsinger, which is not ideal, but hey, power is power.

Lusacan, God of Night. Known as the Watcher, he originally took the form of an all-seeing Sphinx. He once made his home in the depths of the Hewn City, teaching the brave souls who found him the intricacies of Truth magic. He was discovered by a Shade cult, who attempted to steal him away from his place of origin. Drunk on the promise of worship, he followed, and they promptly corrupted him. Cut off from his place of power, beset on all sides by Shade, he will surely be consumed; how much remains of his tortured mind is unknown.

Toth, God of Fire. While the Forgewright was once the least well-known of the gods, the modern age has been kind to him: not one, but two modern Flights pay homage to the act of creation. The dragons of Lightning and Fire see him as a muse; sightings are thought to bring inspiration, breakthroughs on current projects. His newfound power has turned him bitter and petty, a spirit of ambition and rivalry, and he seeks to take it out on those who once thought him inferior. With Andoral and Lusacan out of the way, he’s set his sights on Urthemiel. (Overpowering Dumat may still be beyond his reach, but he’ll burn that bridge when he gets there.)

Andoral, God of Unity and Chains. Of all the Old Gods, he took the return of the Eleven the hardest. He tried to adapt by taking the form of a powerful dragon, hoping to convince the world’s new citizens that he was a prophet of the Icewarden. Unfortunately, he did not quite understand what a multi-headed Imperial entailed. Every dragon who looked upon him saw a monster, and he was reduced to something rabid and raving and mindless. Unable to reverse his madness and terrified of his rapidly growing power, his Head Priest sealed him deep beneath the desert, in a place that would one day come to be called the Pointe.

Urthemiel, God of Beauty. Known as the Architect of the Crystalspine Reaches, as his very presence warps how the mountains grow. He’s fashioned himself a massive crystalline castle, where he lives under the guise of a reclusive noble. Unable or unwilling to play the game any longer, he instead devised a new way to survive- he feeds upon the lifeforce of mortals. He’s the most similar in form and mind to a mortal dragon, and he seems interested in what makes them tick, though he still cannot grasp it intuitively. The unfortunate souls who wander into his castle are studied, then devoured the moment they stop being entertaining.

Andoral is the Old God of Unity and Chains (you can read more about the Old Gods here, but tldr they’re elemental spirits on a power trip) who took the form of an Imp and was accidentally transformed. He’s an Emperor made of raw elemental energy, gone completely mindless in his blind thirst for power and destruction. His last Priestess gave her life to seal him deep underground, in a cavern that happens to be directly under the Pointe.

The lab, on discovering this massive source of energy, decided it was unfair to let it go to waste. The entire lair is already wired to a power grid, so they just added a second set of pipes, except instead of electricity they conduct raw ice magic. It keeps all of the buildings at livable temperatures, even during the heat of summer, and can be used as a mana source for the skilled and desperate. 

They affectionately refer to the whole contraption as Andy, and tell the citizens that it’s a mechanical generator (for fairly obviously reasons).  Most of the citizens assume it’s an acronym, as the scientists are so fond of using, and don’t pay it any further attention.

On occasion, when an area of powerful magic becomes wildly unstable, an elemental spirit is born. Most of them live a fragile, fleeting existence; lacking sentience, they seek only to protect their birthplace, until the power runs out and they fade back into non-existence.

But the belief of a sentient creature is a powerful thing. While the gods of Sornieth slumbered in their pillar, the people needed something else to turn to, and a select number of these spirits were clever enough or lucky enough to seize the opportunity. They performed favors, offered assistance, or threatened to raze towns to the ground, and their fame spread across the land. They feasted on worship, grew fat with power, and the more they grew, the more clever their alien minds became. 

Many spirits across Sornieth were able to sustain themselves this way, but a pantheon of seven outgrew them all. They called themselves gods, and empires lived and died at their favor. They had it all.

Then the Pillar shattered, and Sornieth’s true gods were back to claim their thrones. The peoples of the second age were wiped out, the Beastclans scattered. 

The planet’s new dominant species, these dragons, refused to worship them, and the Old Gods began to fade.