God
Name: Ruhn (Roo-hin)
Dominion(s): Comedy, Fear, and Mischief as well as their incarnations, Actors, Comedians, Poets, and Criminals
Appearance:

Having a rather irritating habit of changing appearance whenever it suits him, Ruhn’s appearance is not definite. However, Ruhn will appear most often as a court jester over 7 feet in height with various outfits, but will change his shape into odd and unsightly amalgamations of various creatures and objects on a whim.
Personality: Viewing the world as a perfect preservation of chaos, Ruhn treats the world as a playground of experiences. Allowing his subjects to do as they please, and exercising his rule over them only when absolutely necessary, Ruhn rules with a lackadaisical touch that is no doubt the cause for Lorak’s anarchical state. He is not in control of his emotions, and prefers it stay that way. Constantly shifting between the fun loving smile and the fear inspiring scowl, some of his subjects have theorized their deity to be insane. Those subjects are usually never seen again.
Powers: Being able to appear and disappear in clouds of smoke allows Ruhn to constantly cause mischief among the populace and other gods, and this is only aided by his ability to disguise himself as any creature and he has through nothing but practice become rather good at voice imitation.
Magic Items: Ruhn possesses a small bauble or false scepter which has the sometimes useless and sometimes useful ability of either striking someone with an lung straining amount of laughter or a mind and body crushing level of fear. Ruhn does not decide which, the bauble is random every time.
Mortality: Ruhn’s body is merely a vessel for his consciousness and his essence. In order to kill Ruhn one and for all, one must destroy his body in it’s entirety. For instance if his whole body was destroyed save for an eyeball, his entire consciousness would still reside in the eye-ball.

Nation
Name: Lorak
Terrain: A desolate wasteland constantly ravaged by war, terrible standup comedy acts, dramatic plays that refuse to end and more often than not famine and drought. Nearly all savannah plains and desolate flatland, the terrain of Lorak is dominated by a central plateau on which sits the only city, Dorun, the capital. And beneath this plateau sits the only source of water. A large aquifer that feeds into the various springs and ponds that dot Lorak’s terrain.
Wildlife: An assortment of small mammals and bird, there are no top predators save the humans that call Lorak home.
Species:The humans that call Lorak home are some of the happiest and scariest of the world. Comedians, actors, poets and criminals are an odd mix for a population and there is a pervasive lack of artisan and craftsmen. Food is often hard to come by, and the people’s survival is often left up to what can be stolen, or earned through performance.
Culture(s): As lay down in Ruhn’s hopes for his people, there is only one rule, experience. This “One Commandment” culture is as you could imagine rather chaotic. A true anarchist state, the people only survive by either using each other or helping each other.
Capital: Dorun, the city of Fear and Fun. A sprawling city of coffee houses, nightclubs, casinos and racketeering, Dorun was founded by Ruhn to be a place where artists and criminals could coexist. Where comedians could tell jokes, where actors could act, and poets could embrace the muse. Everyone seems to either be enjoying life together or fighting to the death. A truly awesome sight where Ruhn’s vision the world experience can be realized.
Important Individuals: Lucky Rob the Mayor of Dorun, Sheila The Quick, Boris The Strong

The preferred guise of Ophion is that of an immense snake, once hundreds of feet wide and many more long, though now merely some two hundred long, with ruddy golden scales tinged with red. Two short limbs sprout from his chest, and forward-pointing hooks line his body, 'the better to carry the world away with.' His heart burns bright as a sun, only barely contained, and his voice flashes with fire. In the farflung time of his arrival and during both periods of deep calm and wrath alike, the gold peels away to the black of the night sky, and the red glow gives way to starry blue.

When he must guise himself as a man, going forth in astral projection, he is known to take the appearance of a great man with golden-brown skin, two heads taller than the tallest in many nations and built as a giant, with braided beard down to his chest and braided hair down to his center back. A large turban, both rimmed and crowned with silver and studded with countless gemstones, the center setting dominated by an irridescent diamond, sits heavy on his head, and he is clothed in a heavy and richly decorated kaftan in the same color as his scales, changing its color in the passing of night and day.

While viewed by the cults of the Allgod-born deities as capricious and exceedingly demanding of his followers, the cult of Ophion speaks of him as generous beyond all others, granting boons beyond his demands in return for absolute loyalty. There is truth in both sides; on the level of rulership, while he offers no tolerance towards cults of the 'lesser' gods whom do not pay greater fealty to Ophion's throne (and thus risk their scorn) he is lenient- if watchful- towards those worshipers of familiar spirits whom do, allowing their secondary faith in his 'loyal vassals.' And, while his rule is absolute, it is also heavily distributed amongst both his serpent-spawn, the native spirits and the mightiest mortals, and through this policy of hierarchism combined with absolutism many great works have been wrought through his lands. His is a devil's bargain of loyalty for prosperity, promising vanguardship in ultimate liberation from the world itself.

On the personal level, Ophion bears hubris beyond hubris, unfailingly declaring the world as his empire in rebellion, the gods as 'rebels' and his territory as only the personal demesne of His lordship, rather than the sole demesne. His words are most often sweetly-smug, promising all one may desire, occasionally sagacious in impenetrably riddlic nothing-saying when asked for counsel or challenged in wisdom, and on rare occasions wroth, prophesying every portent of doom and anguish for spite of the lesser over pride unearned. He is known to take a distant paternity to his subjects, granting miracles regularly in demonstration of his personal love of the mortal folk, or else seeing to it that those lesser would-be divinities who have sworn to him grant those miracles outside his portfolio in his stead.



Ophion's power portfolio is largely of a grandiose, sublime nature, the gross over the subtle, and where there is subtlety, it is on the border of grossness. Over the passing of the lesser heavens he has a degree of influence, setting the stars temporarily right and wrong and thusly muddling with the significance of days, much to the frustration of both astrologers, whose starmaps and predictions can be made obsolescent for some span, and ritualists, whose works are uncovered by Ophion's agents and spited. His knowledge of large-scale metaphysical workings is great, although the fine work often falls on those of small enough form and mind to attend it, and his general wisdom is relatively deep, though he grows indignant where proven wrong. His physical might is immense, and he posseses the power to channel starlight through himself into destructive magic, or to swim through the glowing air as if it were water, as well as subtler manipulations along the lines of divine parlour tricks. The direct brokering of power by compact, amplifying the power of the minormost near-divines in particular, is something he possesses, and has seen many lesser mythical creatures flock to him in hopes of standing alongside or usurping their betters in the middle and high-grade powers, much to their frustrations, as these vassals, both willing, able, and relatively numerous, are a great boon in the wars of containment fought against Ophion, although the degree of lack in standardization can make the raising of levies cumbersome.



Ophion, though existing outside of the game and rules that the Allgod's children are participating in- and hence, not inside the same compact as they- is not made mortal in the same fashion, nor is he under the potential protection of the Allgod from fratri-deicide. He is quite open nonetheless in the fact that, in order to penetrate this reality- supposedly- he had to bind his power and present being into an ageless, implacable, yet ultimately mortal quasi-divine form. In so doing, he broke the normal barriers separating this reality from the supposed superreality, thus allowing him to descend and begin his campaign of conquest and liberation from 'the stifling nature of this matter and the chaos of anarchy.' If Ophion should succeed, he promises an endless frontier of possibility and wonder for those in the world, even those whom are his foes to the last; if he should die, and fail to bring this reality up, on the other hand, he either does not know, or will not say the world's fate, but is clear in his sayings that he will be scattered to the greater cosmos, all that he has brought together as himself over time uncounted and space endless being no longer, and that he will not be able to return. He has come close to death by divine might before, yet by trickery, has always escaped the deathblow, often even spiting his enemies in so doing, as when he struck down a great god-king of the barbarian hunters through his servant, the Father of Widowers, leading to his present state as a mummified, dying idol, and Ophion's avoiding of the final blow.

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