Zee: Everything looks good, and the necessary changes have been made.

NF: Approved.

Capy: The issues have been solved, approved.

Zee: Though I had some reservations, I think the combo works. He’s put several limits on himself, which I am happy with. Probably the best aesthetically pleasing app so far, as well.

Capy: Seems pretty nice so far, reminds me of vowzra from the older MKs. Descriptions of forms have been added, approved.

NF: I agree. Accepted.

Zee: A very niche domain and portfolio. I could see where it leads, I hope, anyways. How does one feel about an invisible domain form? And an avatar? I think it’s unique and fitting to the theme.

Capy: I think it's all sound, only worry is if domain form has some skill or characteristic that is not described and therefore not approved, if its quirk is only being hidden then its fine.

NF: Everything seems to be in order. My only concern is the Domain Form. The invisibility itself is fine, but I feel the size/shape of the form should still at least be specified, since it’s capable of physically interacting with the world. If the user wishes to keep this a secret then he can privately share it with us in the DMs.

Accepted

Zee: An intriguing conceptual. K’nell was the god of dreams in mk3, and though I see some similarities, I do think this will be a completely different take on it. Though I think dreams encompass nightmares, I do think a port would suit better when messing around with it.

NF: Yeah. I think that Abstraction would make more sense as the Domain and Dreams should be the portfolio.

Capy: I think Dreams have the versatility to be a full on Domain, can include a few other things too and it seems the player has a good plan for it. Abstraction as a domain seems far less clear to me, so I would go against that idea.

Accepted, don't listen to NF

Name: Ereun-Za

Primordial or Conceptual: Conceptual

Domain: Fire
The flickering yellow ghost. A tool to many when in control, but made wild it is all consuming – eating life and drinking air in a greedy frenzy. Fire is an angry energy with no regard for itself or anything around it. This concept is not only a physical phenomenon combusting fuel and releasing energy. It is also an inherent instinct in all evolved life to mindlessly consume for sustenance and rage against all obstacles.

Portfolio: Ruination
All artifice is brought low by one means or another. Once ruined, all its glory is humbled by its broken form. Ereun-Za holds the power to bring ruin to creations in its vicinity. He breaks buildings, crafts, bodies, tempers, and hearts alike.

Broken things may be repaired unless utterly annihilated, but Ereun-Za’s power grants no such reparations through this portfolio. Things created with the power of ruination may only bring destruction.

Their Realm: The Swath
The Swath is a shifting bed of soft dunes blasted by a never-ending, molten glass blizzard. An orange haze permeates through in some hint of a dawn or sunset, but no single source of light can be located except for the gouts of scorching fire that break up out of the sand to keep the blizzard moving. Scattered bricks and broken rusty tools stick out of the ground at dangerous angles, and breathless screams in the air prevent one from concentrating on anything but the pain of trudging through the blinding storm.

Persona:
The internal state of Ereun-Za’s emotions is one of constant pain and frustration. Some deep element of his psyche keeps him emotionally compromised. It reacts to any attempt at interaction as a cruel trick and any expression of joy, happiness, or superiority as a dismissal of his pain. Because of this, his ability to reflect on his emotions and decisions is impaired by a paper-thin temper. And when his temper fails, it releases violent tantrums. To him, in such moments, everything is trying to cause him suffering. Everything is making things worse. It must be destroyed, if for nothing else than out of spite.

While calling Ereun paranoid is true in a way, Ereun’s expression of this state of mind is actively aggressive. He rarely leaves tantrums without a new grudge that he persecutes to its functional destruction. His mind paradoxically opens up from his emotional blindness, but only in the capacity to scheme and reason ways to undermine the subjects of his grudges. He is not interested in reconciliation. He is not interested in healing his rage or fighting for an ideal. He is the incarnation of hate and bitterness with seemingly no remorse.

Ereun’s ultimate goal, if it can be called that with how little he regards walking towards it, is to spread his tortured state upon all of Galbar until it is a grim reflection of his own realm the Swath.

IMPORTANT COROLLARY: Despite Ereun’s emotional turmoil, he is limited by experience, not his capacity to feel. He may change as he marches around Galbar on his selfish, hollow rage, though changes for the better will not come as easily as they are proposed.

Base Form: Ereun-Za the Yellow Ghost
The usual form Ereun-Za takes is that of a lion with skin of bright, crackling yellow magma and a mane of billowing smoke. Each of his pawprints leaves a small flame behind him. His breath is hot enough to cause the air beyond his mouth to ripple, and when focussing this heat, dark blue-purple flames jet from every crevice. His eyes are perpetually wide and manic, looking out for the next slight against him.

Domain Form (Ruination): Vessel of Spite
The Vessel of Spite is the form taken to inflict pure ruination. It is a massive tumbling meteor of burning rubble roughly thirty metres in diameter, flying with his will and forcing masses around it into a tornado-like helix to toss earth and water alike across the landscape. Thin jets of flame project in beams to incinerate points around it.

Avatar: Horde of Rage


The manifestation of Ereun-Za on Galbar is an army of twisted, screaming creatures hell-bent on rending apart all they touch.

The individual creatures vary in form. Some are small leaping mouths of sharp teeth with bodies the size and shape of dogs. Some are bipedal bodies of bone, sinew, and skin with killing weapons held or grafted on their upper appendages. Some are hunched giants with four legs and four arms ending in axe-blade or long-taloned hands. Some even have membranous wings. Many other kinds of abominations may form to adapt to the challenge before them, should Ereun-Za will it. The common thread between all of them is a desiccated, fire-poof, ashen blue skin, a number of bright glowing eyes, a lack of deep intelligence beyond the commands of Ereun-Za, and a base urge to take everything apart except (most of the time) one another.

The horde does not need to rest, eat, breathe, or fear. Fortunately, each individual in the horde may be slain by mortal wounds, though they reproduce by a gruesome process of splitting in half and growing into their new forms like some macro-scale mitosis over the space of a few days. This mitosis is helped along by the tugging grasp of their fellow horde-mates. The horde never grows beyond the equivalent strength of roughly 43,000 strong human soldiers unless Ereun-Za exerts power to temporarily swell their numbers.

Ereun-Za can assume direct control of every creature in the horde, even speaking through them, so long as they are not further than fifteen kilometres away from the average centre of the horde. Horde creatures further away than this succumb to their base instinct to roam and destroy without the benefit of Ereun-Za’s guidance.

Musical Theme:

Nikhida

Domain:

Domination

All things are born with inherent rights. Gods are born to influence and to shape the world. Mortals were created to pray and to create great works in their god's name, to marvel the wonders of nature. Even plants and animals are born with purposes, to flourish, and to die on the table as food. These are their rights and their purposes. But, as gods come to influence the sentients, thus come forth resistance. For not all sentients wished to pray. Not all plants wish to grow and not all stones wished to become a building block of a mountain. If Toshre is the manifestation of freedom, of every beings' desire to break their destined chains, then Nikhida is the opposite of him. He is born to be the whip, the slave owner, and the ruler. The one that must ensure their rights from being infringed.

For every being, a purpose. To born, to worship, and to die.

Portfolio:

Hierachy/ Structure

Those who rule the peasants are the rulers. And before the rulers are the gods

Nikhida represents this orderly structure that every single being partake. When a king ordered his people to build a monument, Nikhida approves. When father yelled at his son for doing a bad job, Nikhida nods. When a slave being whipped by his master, when the cries and pleads for mercy become coarse, Nikhida feels indifferent. Perhaps they are no wiser than their subordinates. Perhaps they are far weaker than the one lying on the ground. But, it is the role that has given them power. The title that they carry. The rights to dominate others. The thing that forces them to go back in line or face the consequences from the masses.

Every man must play his role. And so does every woman. And so is everything.

Realm:

House of Order

In the House of Order, there is no chaos. There is a king who rules for eternity. There are peoples who had been ruled since the beginning of time. There are no crimes. Thus, never a need for a hero to save them. There was never a dissent, thus no revolution was born. Everything had stayed the same since the beginning of time, and all will remain the same for the future to come.

Persona:

Nikhida is a person of traditions, a god that took to much pride in being a god. He prefers to do things in a certain way. He frowned when mortal beings discovered a faster way of travel, for they will never be able to see the beauty on the road anymore. He sighs when mortals tried to break away from their intended paths, for why should they? Are they smarter than the gods that created them? Are they that prideful?

To say so is sacrilegious. To even think so is heretical.

Thus, Nikhida always carries the idea that mortals are nothing more but corrupted beings when given free wills. For in the name of free wills, they can do so many harms and blame for so many things but themselves. They can blame the gods for their unfortunates. They can blame life for their unresourcefulness. The only thing they can't blame is themselves for their incompetence.

And as such, his only equals are the other gods. Their characters may have flaws. Their dogmas are questionable at best. But by birth, they are his equal. And it is his right to give them the respect they deserve.

---

Name: Ereun-Za

Primordial or Conceptual: Conceptual

Domain: Fire
The flickering yellow ghost. A tool to many when in control, but made wild it is all consuming – eating life and drinking air in a greedy frenzy. Fire is an angry energy with no regard for itself or anything around it. This concept is not only a physical phenomenon combusting fuel and releasing energy. It is also an inherent instinct in all evolved life to mindlessly consume for sustenance and rage against all obstacles.

Portfolio: Ruination
All artifice is brought low by one means or another. Once ruined, all its glory is humbled by its broken form. Ereun-Za holds the power to bring ruin to creations in its vicinity. He breaks buildings, crafts, bodies, tempers, and hearts alike.

Broken things may be repaired unless utterly annihilated, but Ereun-Za’s power grants no such reparations through this portfolio. Things created with the power of ruination may only bring destruction.

Their Realm: The Swath
The Swath is a shifting bed of soft dunes blasted by a never-ending, molten glass blizzard. An orange haze permeates through in some hint of a dawn or sunset, but no single source of light can be located except for the gouts of scorching fire that break up out of the sand to keep the blizzard moving. Scattered bricks and broken rusty tools stick out of the ground at dangerous angles, and breathless screams in the air prevent one from concentrating on anything but the pain of trudging through the blinding storm.

Persona:
The internal state of Ereun-Za’s emotions is one of constant pain and frustration. Some deep element of his psyche keeps him emotionally compromised. It reacts to any attempt at interaction as a cruel trick and any expression of joy, happiness, or superiority as a dismissal of his pain. Because of this, his ability to reflect on his emotions and decisions is impaired by a paper-thin temper. And when his temper fails, it releases violent tantrums. To him, in such moments, everything is trying to cause him suffering. Everything is making things worse. It must be destroyed, if for nothing else than out of spite.

While calling Ereun paranoid is true in a way, Ereun’s expression of this state of mind is actively aggressive. He rarely leaves tantrums without a new grudge that he persecutes to its functional destruction. His mind paradoxically opens up from his emotional blindness, but only in the capacity to scheme and reason ways to undermine the subjects of his grudges. He is not interested in reconciliation. He is not interested in healing his rage or fighting for an ideal. He is the incarnation of hate and bitterness with seemingly no remorse.

Ereun’s ultimate goal, if it can be called that with how little he regards walking towards it, is to spread his tortured state upon all of Galbar until it is a grim reflection of his own realm the Swath.

IMPORTANT COROLLARY: Despite Ereun’s emotional turmoil, he is limited by experience, not his capacity to feel. He may change as he marches around Galbar on his selfish, hollow rage, though changes for the better will not come as easily as they are proposed.

Base Form: Ereun-Za the Yellow Ghost
The usual form Ereun-Za takes is that of a lion with skin of bright, crackling yellow magma and a mane of billowing smoke. Each of his pawprints leaves a small flame behind him. His breath is hot enough to cause the air beyond his mouth to ripple, and when focussing this heat, dark blue-purple flames jet from every crevice. His eyes are perpetually wide and manic, looking out for the next slight against him.

Domain Form (Ruination): Vessel of Spite
The Vessel of Spite is the form taken to inflict pure ruination. It is a massive tumbling meteor of burning rubble roughly thirty metres in diameter, flying with his will and forcing masses around it into a tornado-like helix to toss earth and water alike across the landscape. Thin jets of flame project in beams to incinerate points around it.

Avatar: The Grey Rider


The manifestation of Ereun-Za on Galbar is a single human-sized, softly smoking figure encased in grey, bony, spiny armour and riding on an equally grey horse that constantly sheds a fine ash. In the avatar’s right hand is a burning sword that wreaks destruction on all around it. He refers to himself as Ereun-Za, though his reputation spreads through his actions more than his speech. As such, his simple description, the Grey Rider, spreads like his fires.

As if suppressed by the spiny grey coral that coats him, or perhaps as an adaptation to the influence of the surrounding Lifeblood, the Grey Rider’s outward behaviour is more reserved and contained than Ereun-Za in person. He not only exercises a certain level of patience, but his slow, seething voice resonates in a way that demands attention through chills and intimidation. For behind this barrier, the tantrums do explode outwards in small flumes of violence. When these outbursts occur, the Grey Rider’s voice splits into the disgusted shouts and jeers of an entire crowd bearing down from all directions. However, in lucid times, the Grey Rider manipulates the bitter and the betrayed to rise up in rage and blindly destroy their enemies, and the world that allowed them to exist.

The Grey Rider’s horse is never far from the avatar, almost as if the two are one in the same being. The horse has no apparent name as the Rider never speaks to it or of it. The horse is as tough as the avatar, runs frighteningly fast, and can barge through buildings and beings like a siege engine. To traverse the skies, it sprouts a pair of bright, burning, wing-shaped flames from its shoulders, billowing smoke behind it. The wings are so bright that fires start around it from sheer radiant heat.

Musical Theme:

Name: Illyd Dyll, or just Illyd or just Dyll
Primordial or Conceptual: Conceptual?

Domain: Weather! The changing of clouds, the moving of wind and the bringing of rain and summer thunders. Hail, gusts, crisp autumns and long spring stillnesses. A small drought, a pleasant rain -- all matters between our feet and the atmosphere above.

Portfolio: Agriculture. The cultivation of domesticated plants. Planting, growing and harvesting along with the tools and knowledge to do so effectively. Illyd is the lazy master of it all and is more than willing to shed some of his godly power to see the crops grow.

Their Realm: A sea of golden wheat fields set between two snow capped mountains. A lazy brook swims through and a copse of crooked trees dot the center. A hammock can be found there strung between the oldest trees and inside an old harp and banjo are swaddled.

Persona: Illyd Dyll is relaxed, calm, and otherwise slightly lazy. He prefers a nice summer heat and isn’t much for harsh winters. Work is necessary but it is just the means to the end and not the end of the means. A light day where the rain does your watering and your fingers play your instrument is considered paradise, especially if followed with a nice sun breaking through the clouds while you chew on the latest harvest.

He is not without some care, of course, and would hate to see the natural world disturbed too much or the ways of growing and farming affected negatively. He isn’t much for conflict and loves a bit of peace.

Base Form: Illyd Dyll looks like a young man dressed in rather mundane cotton robes and dirty sandals. He has lazy eyes the color of the earth and shaggy hair to match, his grin is lopsided and content. With him he usually carries something to pluck and something to chew on.

Domain Form: Illyd Dyll’s domain form is a tired looking red fox, with nothing quite so special about it.

Avatar: Illyd Dyll’s avatar is a mirror image of himself and shares everything with himself. He likes to enjoy Galbar, you see.

Name: Haerthus the Scorched, the Bestower of Spite, the Whisper-of-Rage, Wrath Incarnate, Blessed Vengeance-Spirit and the Profaned Patriarch of Righteous Anger.
Primordial or Conceptual: Conceptual Deity
Domain: Hate, the strong negative emotion instigated from unfairness, injustice or an intense dislike from emotional trauma- from the moment a human loathes his neighbour, or a child hates her dress, Haerthus is involved one way or another.

Haerthus views Hate as a breaker of monotony, as Man’s first step towards self-realization. The moment a person hates something, they learn more of themselves. In the thought of pure negativity they clearly define themselves and form judgement of everything around them. Hate is channeled for productive work, be it the creation of a new invention out of spite, or the destruction of the old form of governance- Hate is pure motivation that drives humanity forward, and keeps them questioning their own identity.

Portfolio: Vengeance, a desire to deliver retribution. Such desires compels Haerthus to lend aid to the weak, the downtrodden or the misjudged. Whether petty or grand, any act of vengeance is observed by the Profaned Patriarch himself. Haerthus uses vengeance to bring balance to the karmic scale. The God of Hate does not necessarily require the naturally downtrodden to do his bidding, and may instigate the desire of vengeance in an average being for the most minute reasons. He amplifies anger and coaxes it into a desire and motivation to act, thus setting a collision course towards conflict.

Persona:
Haerthus is a vocal god who takes pride in his flowery speeches and metaphors, and expects followers of his worship to similarly belie the true nature of their wrath. Although he is the embodiment of hatred (and thus must hate all that exists), he does not deny the work of others and on occasion begrudgingly admires the creation of other deities. He carries himself with an air of dignified royalty and is very quick to anger if he finds his time wasted, or disrespected.

The God of Hate views his work as a necessity to elevate mankind to a greater plane of understanding, encouraging his followers to accept the negative half of themselves. He ultimately despises cowardice and cruelty, even if it begets more anger: although he embodies hatred, he prefers followers who have righteous anger, rather than directionless hate.

While Haerthus pushes his followers to the path of noble work through anger, he is not above smiting pain and anger to those who do not necessarily deserve his punishment, if only to remind people that just because one is good, they should not ignore his wrath or fury.

Base Form: Haerthus’s base form takes upon an ethereal humanoid form made up of black mists that swirl around him. He is a hooded figure, whose face is hidden spare for twin glowing embers and a row of burning ash that represents his eyes and teeth respectively. When his hood is pulled back, he bears his golden crown upon a scarred face of swirling smoke, speaking in a coarse, raspy voice. His body is covered in armor of godly design, but blackened as if burned in a raging fire. On occasion he carries with him his ceremonial blade ‘Thaxus’ which he uses more so as a pointing implement rather than as an actual weapon.


Domain Form: Within the confines of Ardherum, Haerthus’s visage is more clearly defined and vaguely human-like, except for the glowing red scars. The biggest difference lies in size, as he easily towers other beings at a full 10m in height. His arms however are no longer properly defined, resembling tendrils of swirling black smoke that seems to curl in and out in a feral manner. In Ardherum, his voice travels across every corner of his realm in a whisper carried by the echoes of thousands of statues.


Avatar: Shafexthus, also called Exthus is the courtly jester of the King of Hate, acting in a flamboyant manner whilst spouting slap-stick comedy to the irritation of others. Though he claims to act independently, this is partly the truth: Shafexthus is one half dormant Haerthus, and the other half Exthus, who controls the shared body for the majority of time. Haerthus uses this connection with his jester to be at two places at once, where his direct attention is required.

Standing at full 6’ 5”, Shafexthus comes close to humanely appearances, if not for his face or the lack thereof: in place of a face exists only three holes, where smoke leaks out from. Therefore when interacting with mortals, Shafexthus does so from the veil of a golden mask. His voice has a nasal component to it and he regularly sounds out of breath. Shafexthus dresses in motley garb and occasionally travels barefooted.

When in control of his own body, Exthus plays the role of a jester convincingly, poking fun of everyone including himself, imitating others or instigating fights for the sake of it. His actual persona draws out an irritable side of others, if they were expecting a more composed individual. In times where Exthus is on duty for Haerthus, he will complain ceaselessly over every minute detail along the job.


Realm: Ardherum, the realm of Haerthus, is a maze formed from deep gorges lined with gigantic cloaked statues that whispers to any unwary traveler who sets foot into their realm. Haerthus resides deep within the maze, where winds of anger and rage surge to his throne.

A land where no hope is brooked, no joy is suffered and nothing but sheer unadulterated hate for the cosmos is felt.

Ardherum’s gates are flanked by the Twins of Fury and Rage, giant overbearing statues that cross arms in unison. High above, the blazing sun bleaches the soil dry with unending spite, killing all life forms. Moisture evaporates, and the winds carry the whispers of the statues even from the gaping maw.

The deeper one travels into Ardherum, the more they are beset on all sides with negativity and anger from the mosaic artwork crafted by an unnamed sculptor. Scenes that evoke only anger are present, and the only respite comes from the bleak nothingness that seems to travel on and on. Shade is only offered in scarce traces, for even the giants do not cast shadows over the pathway to Haerthus.
As one continues to travel closer to Haerthus’s throne room, they are greeted with toppled statues and memorials to those who have been favoured by the God of Hate himself. The desecration of their former selves is a reminder of the damages they have wrought around them in their hate and wrath. Ugly gargoyles first leer, then accost the traveler along their road to meet the God of Hate.

In the center of Ardherum lies the Throne of Contempt, whereupon Haerthus seats himself, awaiting the next visitor. Every vision given to his followers takes place in the center, surrounded by the most heinous statues contorted in many degrees of twisted anger, hate and spite, where they are judged if the follower is worthy of Haerthus’s blessings. Here, the center lies directly beneath the fiery sun with no shade- to stand before Haerthus is to suffer the fullness of ancient hate, born from the nothingness of the cosmic void.


Musical Theme:
1. "Behold my August Majesty, clad in rage and wrath."
2. "Thou shalt be noble in rage."
3. "Hatred is inevitable and natural; embrace it, but fear it."

A mystery is not that which is unknown, but that which defies knowing. For, how can anyone know something is a mystery if they have not sought to find or explain it, and failed? And what, then, is a mystery that can never be solved? Certainly, not one worth worrying about. Unanswerable questions, unexplainable phenomenon, these are the lesser mysteries in the world, for they have been and always will be. Rather, the greatest mysteries are those which are surmountable, but resistant. Among these high mysteries are conspiracies, plots, vanishings, and some of the very secrets of the world.





There are powerful gods in the world, ones who hold sway over the skies and tides themselves. They determine the fates of civilizations, determine the very direction of history. There are also lesser gods. They are not often spoken of, though some might prefer that. For they are small, and the few things they reign over all the more precious for it. The Nameless Patron is not the god of any great concept, but of a group, an idea, and a lifestyle. The Patron is the god of Explorers. They are those that seek the unknown, and in doing so venture further than any that have come before them. Whether they venture into the most dangerous of lands, or seek the most coveted knowledge, at great expense and self sacrifice explorers uncover mysteries and revel in the challenge of doing so. The Patron both aids these courageous few, and sets obstacles before them. After all, there is a world to discover, and it is one that will pull no punches. Only the greatest of Explorers are fit for the task.





The Labyrinth of Worlds. It is a dark forest, an endless desert, an underground maze, a mountain peak, or even the depths of the sea. The Patron’s realm is a shifting one, a place where no conditions can be anticipated, and no preparations can be made. For mortals, it is a challenge beyond any other. For gods? An annoying vanity project. Regardless of what it might be, the Labyrinth obeys only a single master. The Patron alone can still the realm, even bring order to it. Of course, that isn’t to say she would.



Impolite, unhelpful, sarcastic, crude, these are all things often said of the Nameless Patron. While these and other phrases fail to paint the full picture of the Patron’s personality, they certainly aren’t unfounded. The Patron is at times all these things. Most often, she is these things when dealing with those apart from her ‘chosen’ as it were. Her dedication and love for those who count themselves as Explorers is absolute, unquestionable, and quite apart from her disdain towards everyone else.

As to why she seems to regard both other mortals, and her peers, as less than those she embodies, that is a trickier question. In part it might be ideological differences, the Patron certainly holds opinions unpopular among the ranks of gods, but that would only be in part. The Patron, if asked, might well admit that she sees herself as a ‘better’ manifestation of the lifeblood. She might say that the gods who embody concepts or primordial forces are too impersonal to be relevant, if she were asked.

As to whether the Patron is a new sort of god, well that stands as a matter of debate. She certainly thinks she is.





The Nameless Patron’s most basic form is that of a Human woman. Black hair, green eyes, and a deep olive skin define her appearance in this state. In this state she tends to don extravagant dresses, often ones which are constructed from basic elements or ideas as if to show off her divinity.



The Nameless Patron’s most domain form can best be described as a presence. In this form she is entirely incorporeal, and yet hardly stealthy. Any god, and more than a few mortals, would be more than capable of discerning her presence even if she were to attempt to remain inconspicuous in such a form. Her presence can be keenly felt, and is often described as weight and unease.



The Patron’s avatar is, quite simply, It. It is a peculiar mist that roams the unseen, forgotten, or neglected regions of the world. It exists both to aid, and hinder, the explorers of the world.