Base Form:

Aspect: Virtue is the catch all term for all the forms of goodness, justice which is giving those what they deserve, both good and bad, benevolent use of power, honor, protecting the innocent from harm, and defending the weak/or weaker than yourself (Chivalry/Valor). Mercy, not giving those what they deserve, when it's bad. Lastly compassion, simply granting relief from suffering, or doing kind things to others. Consistency is key in virtue. Eloreon will grant succor to those who habitually live virtuous lives, and reward them. Also, unless Eloreon wishes to show mercy, someone who is just living in a positive way in order to get reward is unlikely to receive much attention from him.)

Virtue can also be seen as a reward, in some way, that's unto it'self. A genuinely honorable person is going to receive the rewards and boons of Eloreon far more often than just an opportunist who sometimes displays a few redeeming qualities.

His roar has a supersonic effect on all enemies. On evil enemies, his roar has the added effect of terror and worse damage.

Persona: Generally Eloreon is Good, maybe Lawful Good but more emphasis on just Good. He wants to encourage and grow a benevolent, honorable society throughout as much of creation as possible. Eloreon is highly philosophical, and he can be forgiving, but he's also stern. For example, if he feels an evil doer who is generally turning away from evil he may let them die/kill them, but cause them to arrive in a positive after life/or perhaps try to help them work their way out of a bad one.

Myth: ((Still working on this one, as it was optional.))

Musical Theme:
youtube.com/watch?v=8i60ZPhuCw4

Name: Lektoria Koreh Tellur, "First Secretary of the Core"

Base Form:



Lektor's first and most common form is that of a sphinx, a woman who also presents the aspects of a hawk and lion, even though they are minute, in the form of ears, tails, claws and a pair of hawk wings, while most of her body is entirely human, more specifically, a dark-skinned woman, with short shoulder-length hair and a somewhat muscular, slender body, not too tall. Her eyes have the faint orange glow of magma, and her very blood is similar to that too in both composition and temperature.

Having the bounties of the earth at her command, she does not hide her immense and unequal wealth, on the contrary, often her clothing is entirely made of gold, even when she tries to "tone it down" she will still wear plenty of jewelry. Her presence is easily notable, not in divine shine or loud sounds, but in a low rumble, a "pressure" as if gravity was a bit higher near her.

Aspect: Earth. One of the primal elements, from the sand of the beaches to the rocky peaks to the minerals nested deep. Lektoria's domain is to her Earth in its rawest forms, often concerned with the natural riches and rock formations born from the core's cooling magma, she is extremely sensible to the often easy to miss greater movements of the world, such as the movements of the crust, the rising mountains and their eventual decay, but extremely oblivious to the more delicate worries of the world, most notably, topics such as earth's fertility.

She has lordship over the nascent materials but like a mother whose children have long left the nest she does not have any sort of domain over the aspects and powers said materials provide, she can create magnesium and uranium, but magnetism and radiation are not of her domain.

Also notably, she only concerns herself with the planet-bound materials. Although the silicates and minerals of meteors, moon and exoplanets may be equal in chemical composition to Galbar's own, to her they are notably different on a 'spiritual' level, and therefore celestial rocks are not of her concern or domain.

Persona: "Chaotic Good" could perhaps be a word used to describe Lektor. Of the divine powers in the world, she stands among the most constructive and righteous. The other two words that strike true to the goddess, however, are "lazy" and "greedy".

The self-given title "Secretary of the Core" is quite literal, despite being the supreme goddess of the earth element, she herself speaks of the planet as another entity, often listening to the rumbles and vibrations of the mantle to discern what the "Core" is saying, starting conversations with it, with a babying tone that makes it unclear if said "Core" is her master or her little pet... equally unclear is if this has any effect or if she is just answering the random and meaningless rumbles of magma.

This eccentricity is one of the best examples of how unreliable Lektor may be to gods and mortals alike. It is known she likes to take her time doing things, and never rushes herself, a king praying for a boom needs to be ready for it to arrive a century late, should she ever find the time to do it. Yet, she acts like a bored teenager, often distracting herself with hobbies, hunts and carousing, not taking a long time because of perfectionism, but because she would rather do other things.

Two things reliably snap her out of procrastination, one is the will of the planet, two is her own greed, she is a compulsive collector of rarities and curiosities, and when one has something Lektor truly desires on her hoard, they will have the chance to make her rush to help them. Of course, one should be very careful when trying to force Lektor's hand, to be an enemy of the goddess of the earth and to awaken her primal fury is not a desirable status to anyone, let sleeping lions lie as they say.

Myth:



Musical Theme:

Musical Theme: https://youtu.be/en1uwIzI3SE

A vision of power and control that unifies all of reality under a single will and vision. Aveira approaches existence with a singular purpose - to bring the living to heel. It is the right and duty of those with ambition and power to seek out that vision. Conquest relates to the dominance of others and acquisition of what belongs to someone else. This may be accomplished peaceably or through violence - but is never anything but one-sided. The loser may find peace in subjugation, but it is not required.

Aveira desires total subjugation. The weak must serve the strong. Those that lack the heart or skill to defend themselves do not deserve what they have nor to decide for themselves. The conquest of territory, people and resources shall fuel the warmachine to conquer the next in line. Those that falter or fizzle out in their campaigns are easy targets for a real conqueror. The cycle can only end with unity through power.

Armies sieging cities. Raiders of the countryside. The rise of popular rulers intent on shows of force. These are the typical mortals fitting for Aveira's boons. Naturally, Aveira considers herself the ultimate authority.

With Conquest, Aveira bolsters community and patriotism to it's extremes, inspiring empire-building and expansion. She imparts the drive, knowledge and equipment required to fulfill a vision of unity through violence. She inspires fear and devotion in equal measure, and can inspire both subservience and power-hungry ambition. A simple command can enforce such stress on mortal minds that they submit - or die.


Fear and dread are ingrained in all but the most delusional of mortals. It inspires respect, guides self-preservation, and warns of danger. But it can be manipulated. Like all things, it can be wielded as a weapon; directed as a tool to assault your opponent on another front. At it's most extreme, fear is irrational and crippling. It inspires surrender, or panic. It becomes something more; terror.

As such, for Aveira it is a natural continuation of war and conquest - beating the enemy on a level beyond the martial: crushing their morale. With this aspect, Aveira influences fear, terror and dread as both a tool to be wielded and as an emotion to be controlled. She can inspire and remove panic, give someone else the means to manipulate it, or advance the understanding of how to spread or counteract it.



Aveira typically acts with the stern professionalism expected of an experienced general. Her cold and straightforward demeanor can be both brutally condescending and humorless - she appears to be mainly focused on her distant goals. Aveira can be relatively personable and even helpful, particularly when to those she considers stronger or more authoritative than her.

She is more than willing to cooperate and lend her strength, though there is typically an ulterior motive with her actions. Likewise, she has no issue making an enemy out of someone she previously considered an ally. Like a lurking predator, she simply bides her time to strike.

Despite that veneer of professional stoicism, there is a temper to the flying warrior goddess. An unquenchable rage that bubbles and seethes beneath the surface, revealing itself in utter contempt for mortals and deities alike. It is possible she feels nothing but abject hatred för existence itself, if the moments where she breaks the masquerade are anything to go by. This single-minded disgust and distaste fuels her drive to forcibly take all others under her wings.



In a war torn place, a sun battered land, a lone man rustled through old ruins in his lonesome. Nothing but sun, sand and old skeletons to keep him company as he searched dead lands and uncovered their history. Now this man, Rakat, a broken-toothed pauper with a mere bundle of bread and tools to his name, found himself in an old dining hall, stood before a forgotten tapestry in a house ravaged by time and war.

Rakat blew gently on the old cloth, scattering sand and dust in equal measure. When that wasn't enough, he lifted his sleeve to wipe away the thick layer of warm dust that remained. It revealed a small piece of the grand tapestry hung along the wall in this old ruin. A winged woman was depicted, with rays of both light and dark sewn in around her. Rakat cleaned more of the tapestry, and unveiled a scene in which the people bowed and prostrated themselves to the shining woman.

Another swipe of his sleeve uncovered an exchange - the winged woman on one side, the people on the other, and a peculiar silver bangle between them. This made him pause and glance back over the abandoned room. The sweeping sands made exploration hard, but among the skeletons scattered among small dunes and furniture he caught a glimmer of sunlight.

On a skeleton with a blade impaling it to the broken chair it was in, Rakat saw a silver bangle with an uncanny resemblance to the tapestry. He had missed it when doing his first sweep, though he did not know how; it was hard to take his eyes off of it. Rakat pried and pulled, and with enough strain he broke the bone free from the rest of the skeleton, letting him free this unassuming treasure. With particular fascination, he slid it over his own hand to try it out. It fit his arm perfectly. Like it was made for him.

Rakat drew a long breath as the sun beat down on his face from outside the ruined building. This middling looting seemed so trivial to him now. A waste of his time. He was destined for greatness. All he needed was to take it. Admiring the bangle on his wrist, Rakat grabbed the sword impaling the skeleton and pulled it free. He'd never used a blade before, but it felt natural and easy. Like it was meant to be. Rakat grinned his broken teeth with newfound confidence, and exited the ruin with fresh purpose. His old life was already covered by the veil of sand and heat, just like the last half of the tapestry.

Blood
The rich current that flows through all who draw sweet breath. Distinctive while numerous, refined while raw, unseen while felt; Blood is the life force of all living things. Whether nurtured or natured, one can not truly be alive without it. It is passion upon flushed cheeks, the kindling for all desires, while stoking the coals of emotion. The currents flow ever on, till death do you part. Yet… Such blood can become poisoned. Cursed by ill fortune, blighted by agonies and consumed by supposed superiority. Lashing out on uncontrollable whims and lust. Blinded by purity and fanaticism… Blood is the all encompassing essence that cultivates prosperity, hardship, function and life.

Without it, we are nothing. With it, we are everything.

Despite its immense importance to the form of a practical body, blood is so much more. An ocean has depth and blood is no different. It’s the purity of form, defining lineages and status. Providing reason and connection. It can empower and protect. It can transform and corrupt. It is the fire within, burning as embers or as a roaring inferno. Affecting endurance, strength and tenacity. Reshaping, refocusing, channeling all into the red haze of bloodlust or the smug whip of a master. Outside of the body, blood can be further controlled and manipulated. Becoming useful tools or terrible weapons. Wielded by a studied hand, blood has the power to be both used for life and destruction. But so often used for one or the other.

Wyn is the Goddess of Blood. Thus, her control is absolute. Through influence she may bless or curse, turning the most impure to nobility or the caring into monsters. Via creation, she is capable of forging artifacts that can empower familial ties, weapons that exsanguinate foes and creatures that drink the life force of others. She can manipulate brother against brother and family against family and so much more. For Wyn's vision shall be reborn in blood eternal.

Beauty
A part of Wyn still believes that creation is most often inane, needing her guiding hand of perfection. Another part of her never wished for it to return to her, to start anew. But whether she wanted it or not, roots often run deeper than any know. Thus the Goddess of Blood took upon herself her oldest, strained comfort- Beauty. Where once she had a tasteful eye, she now relies upon her other senses to create beautiful works.

She can still be a benevolent benefactor or a tyrant depending upon her mood. For beauty is both in the eye of the beholder, the vanity that wrestles with many a man, woman and beast. It is also so much more than physical appearances, for there is beauty in everything. With a blessing Wyn might make someone so supremely beautiful, that the hearts of mortals would start wars over. Or the blessing would be more level headed, both beneficial without causing so much strife. Or She could curse one, stripping them of their beauty if the need arises. She could make artifacts of beauty, enhancing the mortal world through splendor. Or she could lose herself in the wiles of a manic beauty, creating things hellbent on destroying those it deems inferior.

What is known absolute, is that Wyn is beauty and blood and through both, the world grows better for it… Or maybe it doesn’t.





A Goddess such as Wyn is a fickle thing. At one moment she could be pragmatic, the epitome of a reasonable being (as far as God’s go) and the next she could be imperious, vain and cruel or worse… a creature ruled by instinct. For Wyn is not just a fickle Goddess but one who is slaved to her extreme mood shifts. The three personalities of Wyn are each their own but always of her. Even when she is more mortal like in her thoughts and voice, or when she becomes a God of old, fanatical and ambitious. To the best of her all the way to the lowest depravity, she is Wyn, no matter who is at the forefront.

Maroon is the mortal, born of new beginnings. She learned to shed her godly coil and became better for it. She knows empathy and can be easiest to talk to. Ivory is the noble, what's always been, given new light. She is righteous and superior and she'll make sure you understand that. For all are beneath her, even the gods. Ebony is the beast and where reason is lost. She is animalistic in nature, a survivor who reacts on instinct and desires. Such loss of control is always a painful memory, for they are all together, even apart.


Wyn’s form varies on the whims of her personality. Where at one moment she could look as if she were small and diminutive, the next she could look tall and regal; refined and carrying the aura of a proper Goddess. Worse yet, she could lose herself entirely and take the form of a monster. Oftentimes, she is a pale figure with a slender frame and long hair that falls down to the middle of her back. Such ivory locks could be well kept or left in a mess, much to the chagrin of Ivory. In a more exploratory phase, she could change her form to look like any mortal or take upon the awe inspiring, or more terrifying, forms of her aspect.

Name: Ashevelen “Ashe”

Base Form:

In the eyes of mortals, Ashevelen's form is what the viewer finds the most non-threatening and friendly.

Aspect: Trade

Ashevelen is the Goddess of Trade. Wherever it is a trade between mortals or a trade between Gods, Ashevelen can see the trade and weight in her opinion if permitted by the latter. Trade means any exchange of goods, services etc between any number of parties.

The commandments of trade, as enforced by Ashevelen or her servants are as follow:

All parties must agree not to back down from their part of the deal.
All parties must understand that a trade is final.
All parties must agree that if one outsmarts the other, the outsmarted party may propose a new trade on the spot and the negotiations begin anew.
If one of Ashe’s servants is involved in a trade, their decision is final.
Violence is not permitted.

Ashe can bestow her favour to anyone who worships her, so that their trades are successful. Her holy order of servants travel the lands working as advocates for anyone who calls upon them. A peasant might engage in trade (information, land rights etc) with a noble and ask for assistance from one of her servants which would increase the chances that the peasant won't be tricked.

If a mortal doesn’t necessarily require anything that is on offer, a pact can be offered instead. Power, information, servants, artefacts etc can be given in exchange for the person’s servitude for a number of years which is determined based on what they require. All pacts are binding the soul of the person to Ashevelen until their contract ends.

Aspect : Shadows

Ashevelen has recently unlocked the power of Shadows giving her control over the Shadows of the world. Creation of Shadows in places where they shouldn't, manipulating them in whatever way she sees fit. Traveling through shadows or giving them life is part of her power.

Trasnmission - What is Transmission? The action or process of transmitting information, solid objects, souls and what not. But it isn't only this, transmission is something that happens at every moment in reality, light is being transmitted from the sun, a written message is the transmission of data from one person to another. Life is being transmitted from mother to child, a teacher's wisdom to their students. Everything is in a state of being transmited in a way or the other and now Ashevelen can manipulate the process. Be it something small, like changing the location of an object to something major like making a city become invisible by changing the way light is being transmited over to those that look upon it.

Persona: Ashevelen is a benevolent goddess, eager to help those she meets in her travels. She occasionally makes deals with mortals for meagre things, for a God, in exchange for the thrill of a successful trade. Her greatest ambition is to find a mortal that can outsmart her in a trade. While generally benevolent, there are times where Ashevelen’s wrath can be felt in full. For example if any of her rules are broken, herself or her servants will force the rule-breaker to sign a pact with Ashevelen and if they refuse, they are permitted to take their own lives or be killed by the servants. They are to travel all over Galbar and sell all of their material belongings to other rule-breakers, unless they find a way to outsmart whoever enforces the pact. If treated with violence, all of Ashevelen’s servants can act as bodyguards for their charges and dispose of the rule-breaker.

Myth: N/A

Musical Theme: Smile like you mean it

Name: Ravdur

Base Form:


Aspect: Ice - Ice, the frozen element that to some, can be seen as weak. Especially to heat and fire. Melting away to harmless water. But, ice is more than its weakness. From the smallest chunk of ice to the towering glaciers. It can be strong, enduring, and sometimes hiding something beneath the surface. For even icebergs do not show their true size to the wandering eye. Do not fear the man with the hot firey anger but the one with the ice cold calculating anger. As those are the ones that will use their anger to its greatest effect.

Aspect: Purification - Wip

Persona: On the outside, Ravdur can be seen as cold, distant, and unforgiving. Which he can easily, especially to those he dislikes But, this is the impression he gives off. Ravdur, while stoic and most of the time does not show emotion. He does have a kinder side to him. Compassionate and willing to help guide others that need it. Ravdur has a code of honor that he follows, and rarely does he break it. Despite his appearance, Ravdur is not easily influenced into fighting or has a bloodlust. While he does consider himself a warrior, Ravdur instead choices to pick his battles and use a weapon when he needs to. While following his code and tends to look down on those that violate said code.

Which said code of honor deals with the no killing or harming of civilians or innocents. Do not lie, be honest, do not forsake friends or allies in need, keep your word or lose it and remember to never enslave others.

Ravdur has plans on what to do in the world. Ranging from taking ice guardians to protecting future projects, creating mystical black ice, which will be used for several ideas he has, and the creation of a special ice comet that would involve his future followers.

Musical Theme: Song

Tundra/taiga ecosystem

Black Ice - Ice that is blackish in appearance and never melts. Stronger than any metal the mortals can make. Can be used to make strong weapons, armor, or act as reinforcements in the manufacturing of buildings that can help keep mortals insulated from the cold.

Black Ice Temple - Where instructions on how to gather and use black ice is located.

Eosin

They come in various shades of grey and, on average, stand at 6'5 between 7'5ft. Varying eye color and
heterochromia does occur in Eosin. Eosin are stronger than a human or elf generally, but both, if powerful enough, can match an Eosin. They are resistant to the cold and can last longer without food or water than a human or elf. They can live for two hundred and fifty years.

Ice Golems
Ice Golem
They stand at nine feet tall, and are made of Regice. Their purpose is to protect settlements and their people from outside threats. They have limited speech and can voice when danger is coming but are not sentient. Normally one or two ice golems guard a settlement. If a settlement is destroyed and the golem is still active, then it protects the survivors of the settlement, and if there are no survivors, then it moves on to another settlement.

Regice
A special type of ice that like Black ice can never melt. It is able to regenerate at a moderate rate when damaged and is only found so far in the ice golems.

Frostbringer

A war hammer that not only deals ice damage when hit and can use ice attacks but can switch between a two-handed and a one-handed mode on the fly.

Holy Ice
A special type of ice that can be created and forms on the corrupted part of a living thing or object or place as it absorbs the corruption until it covers the corruption completely. Once the corruption is gone, it melts into harmless water.

Base Form:
Myrtu can be perceived as a towering equine being, with a singular crystaline horn, and wings created out of the light of rainbows, stylized as feathers. Their glossy coat of fur is not simply white- they are every color all at once. Blindingly bright during the day so as to appear white, yet reflecting the light in a pearlescent sheen, with hues that shift through the rainbow, as the light hits their hide in differing angles; yet, deep and black as the darkness itself at night, reflecting the moonlight in a dazzling iridescent display that glitters as rainbow starlight. Their eyes swirl with a myriad of colors known and unknown to mortals constantly.


Aspect: F R E E D O M
"Wild and free! To choose, to roam, to explore, to do as the will doth guide thee!"
They are the instinct to break the cage, the chaos contained in the whim, a desire to break the rules, the inspiration drawn from a freefall. She is the darkened impulse that drives one to kill at random- he is the instinct of the opportunistic thief- they are the desire of the slave to break their chains. This is the essence of true free will- to choose death in combat or death at the edge of a cliff. He is the freedom of the wanderer, she is the freedom found in the strict code of the hermit, they are the freedom of birdsong changing melody in the wind. Freedom found in the strict order of the universe- freedom in the wildness of the universal chaos.
Freedom to do as the heart desires, to see a task through to the end, and to grab hold of fate itself!
OR NOT.
For that is the true heart of freedom!

Aspect: P O T E N T I A L
"All that is, call that could be, and the endless potential for more!"
She unlocks that which could become. The maybe, the variable, and the what-if swirl and spiral within her eyes and mind, as the future, ever changing and undetermined, spirals on infinitely. Playing with the potential, navigating the possible, Myrtu understands that the ever shifting nature of the cosmos is chaos and order hand in hand, and yet it is so undefinable that even this explanation isn't sufficient. All that could be, she wishes to see, for all that could converges along points, within all that is, which creates all that wasn't.

Aspect: E Q U I N E S
"A for so useful and graceful, beautiful and strong, that it is simply divine!"
To be Equine is to be naturally blessed and of the ideal mortal form. Hooves are sturdy, their speed and maneuverability is worthy of adoration, and the back is strong enough to support the hoofless. Those who are not blessed with such a form know jealousy, but it is for the Equine to grant them encouragement, inspiration, and companionship that can form bonds as strong as their backs. Those of an Equine form are blessed and those things with forms similar to Equines are too. All the world should behold and be inspired!

Persona:
To be free, one must be creative and passionate, yet willing to put in hard work and effort, but not so serious that the joy of being free is overlooked! He can be all of these things, in such a dizzying display of inconsistent attitude, it can be frustrating for others to deal with. From one moment, willing to plod along and put in determined effort, to deciding perhaps a RUN or FLIGHT is more freeing in the next, to being cold and aloof as the impulses of violence turn her brutal- they are a difficult to summarize and even more difficult to understand. One thing is certain though: freedom can be incredibly selfish.

Myth:


Musical Theme:

For easy and future reference! Because I'm forgetful! Also giving things theme songs just cause.

Name: Celestine.



Base Form: Celestine's base form is, for lack of any better description, beautiful. To start with basic physical features, Celestine stands at a staggering height of ten feet tall. This allows her to tower over most people and project not only a feeling of superiority, but a feeling of confidence and self assurance that she hopes inspires the people following her with their own feelings of confidence. Celestine's skin is fair and soft, and she is often warm to the touch. In addition to this, Celestine's body is both well endowed and well developed, with robust yet not overwhelming muscles letting her retain an outwardly feminine hourglass shape.

Celestine's silvery white hair is extremely long, reaching down to her ankles if combed straight. It's naturally slightly curled state keeps it hovering around the low-calf range. It continues Celestine's trend of being welcoming and beautiful by being consistently soft to the touch, and freeing itself of dirt and other contaminants moments after they're introduced. In addition to keeping itself clean, Celestine's hair repairs itself from damage quite quickly, and will regrow to its original length in minutes if cut unless Celestine wills it to stay.

Celestine's eyes are a dull blue in color, and possess a soft warmness to them. Yet unlike her other features these betray the other side of Celestine, as even when she is being kind her eyes carry with them the weight of someone who has seen things that cannot be unseen or left behind. Being an elf, Celestine's ears are long and pointed, with each one extending several inches away from her head.

For clothing, Celestine has one outfit that she wears constantly. Befitting of her status as a goddess of war, this outfit is multiple layers of armor. Firstly is a bright red hooded cloak with gold hemming. Along with this is a smaller version of the cape that she wears around her waist, with a cloth tasset hanging from the front. In addition to this is a full suit of gleaming steel gothic plate armor, with nearly every possible piece accounted for, save a helmet. Beneath this armor is another full suit of mail armor, and beneath this is a gambeson along with other thick, padded clothing. Finally, beneath all of this, Celestine wears a set of plain silver clothing. Interestingly, this armor provides nearly no actual protection to Celestine, as most of her defensive ability comes from her status as a goddess. Still, she is seldom seen without it.

Something else frequently seen with Celestine is her sword, Duty. Duty is a longsword with a bright red hilt and scabbard. It's blade is steel in color and can be made to glow as bright as the sun at Celestine's command. The sword is supernaturally durable, refusing to bend or flex even when under extreme duress. Likewise, it's equally overwhelmingly sharp, with any contact to the edge drawing blood or otherwise leaving a lasting impression. Otherwise, the sword is as normal as any other sword.

Finally, Celestine carries a shield, Loyalty beneath her cloak. Loyalty is bright red in color with silver decorations. It, like Duty, is supernaturally durable. Refusing to buckle or bend under even extreme duress. However, an interesting feature is that unlike Duty, which is extremely light, Duty is extremely heavy. This makes not only impacts with it incredibly punishing, but it could be used as a way to pin someone to the ground and immobilize them.

Aspect: War.

Celestine is a goddess of war, though she does not engage in it eagerly. First and foremost is the idea that Celestine does not enjoy the prospect of initiating conflicts, instead choosing to attempt to lead with diplomacy and compromise in situations of confrontation and conflict. But in spite of this, Celestine is not unwilling to go to war. Many of the tactics she will employ are defensive in nature, designed to sacrifice some offensive capability in order to maximize defensive value and minimize her own personal losses.

But even should she be brought into direct conflict, Celestine is not opposed to making amends and building bridges. But there is a devious side to Celestine, one that is often overlooked. To Celestine, war doesn't stop on just the battlefield. It can be continued into the hearts and minds of the people of the enemy. They can be brought in as new friends, turned into husbands and wives, and eventually completely assimilated, wiping away what was once their independent culture, taking its best aspects, and integrating them into Celestine's own kingdoms. Celestine internally calls this a "Polite war", but it is still war regardless of how kind it is.

Thus, the beautiful figure of Celestine and is just as much a weapon as her actual weapons are.

The general approach that Celestine takes to her aspect is a pragmatic one. She has no routine need to devote her divine power to displays of physical prowess. Instead, Celestine's primary use of her aspect focuses more on providing her soldiers with powerful equipment, devising strategies and battle plans, and raising fortifications as needed. When battle is upon her, Celestine has also been known to make use of her divine power to quickly move troop formations around the battlefield in order to quickly form a battle line, or to cause chaos among the enemy lines by diverting a cavalry charge from the front to the rear.

This is not the limit of what Celestine can do with the power of war, but it should illustrate some of what goes on within her constantly churning mind.

Persona: Celestine would generally fall under the definition of "Lawful Neutral". She is polite and caring, but looks after her own people and her own interests first and foremost. She'll see to their safety in a time of crisis, and if seeing to their safety also helps others, then they too shall be helped. Outside of this, Celestine is polite and reserved and, if you're not on her bad side, is generally pleasant to be around and open to most things.

Myth: Celestine frowned as she looked over the map of the Valley of Roses. Her soldiers were positioned in strategically advantageous positions, but the rain season was going to start soon. The entire valley would turn into nothing more than a slick mud pit. They had weeks at best, and days at worst, to move out of the valley. If they were lucky, a few volleys from archers could cause them to hunker down enough for the cavalry to mount up and charge, but they had set up a low-angle spike wall to deter Celestine's famous cavalry...

To say that there wasn't a simple solution was a bit of an understatement. It was possible that she could pull her own forces back and give some ground in order to try and draw them out of their fortifications and surround them on the field. The problem presented there is that they could only send a partial force out to claim what was left of her own fortifications and then proceed to pinch her own soldiers.

Such complication... But perhaps it was time to play the long game.

Starting to draft her orders, Celestine wrote that they should abandon the valley and pull back towards the ridge that they had taken last week. They would then re-fortify the position and wait for the rain season. Then when the rain arrived, they were to charge the valley and attempt to force the enemy to retreat to their prior fortifications. Then when they were caught in the slick mud left behind by the rain, archers would harass them for as long as they could to dwindle their numbers.

A few days went by, and reports came back that her plan had been a fair success. Knowing their numbers were weak, Celestine ordered a daring charge through the rain before they were able to recover. This crushed the spirit of the enemy soldiers, and they ended up capitulating. Welcoming the surrender with open arms, Celestine entered into phase two of her plans.

Establishing trade routes with the rose clans, Celestine had her elves trade away crafts of exquisite make for the rose-designed pottery, which was renowned for being able to resist the bitter colds of winter quite exceptionally. As years went by, more and more elves went to live among the rose clans, and with each wife or husband taken by the native woodborne rose clan members, the number of elves only grew exponentially, for each elf would only produce elven children.

Several years passed, and soon there were few of the woodborne rose clan members left. It was then that Celestine approached them, and offered them the choice to enter into her kingdom, as was their right as elves. With an overwhelming majority of elves, the decision was quite simple. And it was then that Celestine's victory was absolute, as the rose clans were no more.

Musical Theme:

Base Form:
The Ferryman’s base form is difficult to put into words. Well, the form - or the shape - comes fairly obvious to those with human eyesight: He, she, they appear as a lanky, bald humanoid in some sort of robed attire - a shepherd’s gown, perhaps? His, her, their hands reveal only a collection of skinny digits and an indication of long nails. The rest of the body hides within the folds and shadows of the gown, showing no further detail beyond the implication of a body.

Facial details appear unclear to onlookers - to some, they are sick and bony; to others, full and fair. No matter who looks, the face is either way always overshadowed by an obfuscating shade, perplexing onlookers further. That being said, the Ferryman can be perceived perfectly fine - he, she, they may just come off as somewhat off-putting.



Aspect: Death (Ferryman of Incorporeal Souls)
The Ferryman is a god of death, though not necessarily THE god of death. Death is a natural process, no less natural than being born and living - things are born, they live, they die. Everything from stone to mortal understands this cycle. Yet where the souls go after that? That is not necessarily a natural process. How do souls know how to get to the afterlife? What if there is no afterlife at all, but a reincarnation process instead? Hell, what if the souls don’t even realise that they’re dead?! Well, someone’s got to tell them and take them where they’re supposed to go, whether it be to some infinite field of reeds or inside some pregnant lady’s belly.

The bottom line is that souls, like people, need infrastructure. The Ferryman exists to meet that demand. This gives the Ferryman power to transport souls, as well as a natural affinity for finding, seeing and speaking with the dead. His, her, their powers are split between the self and the vessel (to be constructed IC): The small ferry known as Wellington can traverse air, land and water and carry several more souls than it should seemingly have space for. To make sure souls cannot escape, Wellington's passengers are, uh, protected by a barrier meant to keep the rowdy spirits in and, uh... Well, it doesn't protect against outside threats, so it's more of a seatbelt or a straightjacket for those extra fearful of the life beyond death.

Persona:
Despite being a god of the dead, the Ferryman is far from dreary. After all, one can’t be wearing a sullen mug when everyone’s dying to meet you! As death gets the reputation it gets, the Ferryman makes great efforts to ensure that the passing into the afterlife becomes an interesting - if not fun - journey for all parties. He, she, they are quick with a joke and even more interested in hearing the stories of the many dead - as well as sharing stories they’ve picked up along the route.

Alone, of course, the Ferryman understands that life is not all sunshine and rainbows. He, she, they take time to sit quietly on the eternal sea of existence, contemplating the meaning of life, death and everything in between. They fashion themself somewhat of a philosopher, and will gladly sit for hours discussing.

Jeon is an androgoenose cat-dragon-fawn-thing most often seen dressed in light flowing garbs and armed with some roguish or swashbuckling weapon like a rapier, short bow or set of knives. His head hosts androgenosue face and sits surrounded by flowing bleach blond locks crowned in a pair of ivory white horns with bands of blue running across them at points. He has lightly tanned skin on most of his body, except his feet and heels which are the padded and clawed paws of a panther, and his dragon-like tail that ends in a fluffy fan.



To go into the great unknown, to seek out fame and fortune, to do daring deeds and overcome the odds, that is how adventurers do, and that is what makes them Jeon’s favorite kind of people. He is the patron of all who would take up arms and a coil of rope and delve into the depths of the world, of those who would go deep behind enemy lines to strike a blow or those who would take a blade to a twisted knot of intrigue and plot infesting their homeland.

If there is a band of 5ish dangerous people messing shit up, then Jeon will be right behind them cheering them on and also occasionally dangling a carrot in front of them to make sure they keep making things interesting.

Of course, what is an adventure without a bit of adversity? A boring time that’s what Jeon thinks, and so he is almost as likely to toss a box of starving crazed weasels in the way of a band of heroes as he is to toss them a sword to strike down their problems. Plus if things get just way to bland he might just set up a whole scenario for people to deal with, and what does it really matter if a few villages get burned down by goblins if someone takes them down in the end, and gets stronger as a result.


More than just trees, a forest is a diverse and complex ecosystem, that, while yes, defined by its largest of residents, includes so much more than that. From vines growing on the trees, to caterpillars munchkin on the leaves and birds tonikalla munching on the caterpillars, to the mushrooms munching on the rotting wood below, all are part of these great landscape defining realms.

Forests are also more than just an ecosystem, they are ancient heartlands of terrestrial life, and hallmarks and symbols of nature itself, ones oh so often stood in opposition and contrast to the civilizations who fell them for timber and /or clear them for farmland. To those of the plains, forests are deep dark mysterious things, hiding dangers and terrors, things best gnawed at the edges of or briefly penetrated and plundered for treasure such as furs, fruits or fungus rather than a place any sane being would live.

Of course, people and forests are not incompatible, and to those who would live in harmony with the trees, or even encourage them to flourish in new and wonderful ways, forests can be a sanctuary from the harsh world beyond, and a wonder deserving of protection. From [druids] to [treeshapers] and [forest guardians], mortals who live in tandem with the forests can enter a symbiotic relationship that allows both forest and friends to prosper.


Jeon is more or less just here to have a good time. Of course his idea of a good time is a pulse racing adventure where blood is spilled and dramatic twists and turns are to be had, so there are bound to be a few casualties along the way. To this the god would shrug and say, “hey, plenty more adventures to be had in the afterlife, long as you don’t end up in hell and who cares about the rotters that end up there anyway”

Jeon is quick to laugh and almost always smiling and joking around, because for him life is all one big game. That doesn't mean he can't be serious of course, or at least that he can’t pretend to be, the god occasionally putting on a persona or four to set up some evil or other for heroes to overcome, building up some nefarious jerk with power and prestige, all so that they can be taken down in dramatic style later on.

As for the other gods, well, Jeon can never be serious with them either. They are all playing a game of the gods and it's no fun if everything’s running smoothly and predictably so he is likely to be a nuisance. He can also be an unreliable ally to those shaking things up, though they should expect him to doublecross anyone who looks to be getting too close to any kind of apocalyptic victory. The best kind of games are those that can go on forever, and the best stories have a happy ending with victorious heroes.



“It’s over baron! Release the Princess and maybe we’ll let you live!” barked a valiant knight flanked by a cleric and a mage as all three stood arrayed at the entrance to a dark and foreboding throne room that had been converted into a ritual site.

Human cultists and goblin scoundrels were scattered about the room, either gormlessly standing in the open in the cultist’s case or ducking for cover behind various overturned furnishings in the goblin’s. Behind them stood the baron in question, draped in crimson robes and holding a sacrificial knife aloft, ready to plunge into the breast of the bound princess who lay before a swirling portal which contained a hulking skullfaced apparition that was pressing a clawed hand against some kind of barrier preventing it from entering the mortal world.

“Oh it is over, but not for me you fools! With the blood of this royal maiden, the barrier between worlds shall be broken, and my grandfather shall be free at last from Aldion’s clutches. Then, together, we shall topple the throne and claim this land as our own!” The baron monologued, before raising the dagger high into the air to do the deed.

Before he could bring it down however, a stained glass window suddenly shattered to his right, and in through it came first a grappling hook that latched onto a hanging chandelier, followed swiftly by a roguish fellow came swinging in on the hook’s rope. Before anyone could react he was snatching the princess from the altar and swinging up and away, towards the safety of the rest of the band of heroes.

They in turn unleashed their fury, spellfire and smite hammering the minions while the knight raced forwards to challenge the barron head on. Blades clashed till the knight had the baron on the back foot and scored a deliberating blow.

“Gah, you might have beaten me, but I’ll have the last laugh!” he claimed, before flipping his knife and driving the sacrificial blade into his own chest.

“No!” the knight cried too late to stop him. Then the armored warrior thought for a moment and noted that “Wait, I’m pretty sure you're not a virgin so…”

The dying grin on the baron’s lips did not fade whoever, and instead he beamed as there came the sound of glass shattering, and a deep booming voice spoke out “well done” as the skull face entered the world while slow clapping thunderously.

Then all of a sudden the smoky illusion of the hulking demon vanished, and was replaced with a youthful being with long flowing hair and a pair of dragon-like horns adorning an androgenouse face, while down below a swishing tail flounced behind it as it patted forwards on pair of cat’s paws.

“you solved my demon summoning puzzle!” the being said with a light and chipper voice, while still clapping, an applause that was joined by the remaining goblins (much to the confusion of their cultist allies) although this seemed to be as much for the creature as the heroes considering the cheers it was getting.

“Thank you, thank you, you all did wonderfully. Especially you Skishnick, great work on that death trap room. Loved the blade pendulum!” it called over to one of the goblins who just moments ago had been trying to shank the wizard.

“Eyy thanks boss! Worked on that one all night I did” the female goblin in question called back, mighty chuffed to have been singled

“Wah, wait. That trap room killed Jimmy, you bastard!” the knight sputtered, raising a blade towards the creature, who tisked and raised a finger to tilt it away again.

“”Oh don’t worry about him, the Ferryman’s taken him safely up into the great adventure in the sky by now” the being said with a shrug before kicking the corpse of the baron (who had died of blood loss with a stupefied look on his face a few moments before the kick) “unlike this guy who’s going right down to Aldion where he belongs”

“How dare you! You're the one who turned my dear sweet uncle to the side of evil!” came a cry from the princess, to which the being just rolled its eyes and replied “Ha! Hardly. That guy was already going down to horny boy before I got to him. Allllll I did was tempt him with a little power and get his awfulness out into the open. Trust me, he’d have knifed you in the back before too long sweetie, but now he’s dead and your throne is safe!”

“Dozens of people are dead because of you, and you want us to thank you!? For. For orchestrating all this!?” the knight sputtered “why are you even here? Just to gloat?”

“Oh no no no, I’m here to give you your reward for completing that quest I set you off on” the being waved a hand over its face to briefly turn it to that of an old hooded man the heroes had met in the dark counter of an inn before waving the hand back and the creature’s grinning face returned. Then it pulled out from behind its back a massive ruby, one the size of a human head that caught the eye of every person in the room.

“This, to be exact, on top of everything you’ll loot from the baron and your royal reward of course” it said, holding out the gem to the Knight. The warrior, however, had gotten over his shock and decided where he stood in this situation.

“No. no no no I will not accept this blood stained prize” he said, and then silenced his party members with a raised hand.

The creature gave an elongated sigh before shrugging and saying “shame”

“Hey! Hey boss! Can I have it if they don’t want it?” Skishnick the trapper goblin shouted, reminding the heroes (and princess) that there were still a bunch of goblins and cultists in the room.

“Eh, sure why not,” the creature replied, before tossing the gem over to the goblin and turning away.

As it walked away all hell broke loose behind it, as the gem catching goblin immediately made a run for it with her prize, prompting the rogue and wizard to go chasing after it with a cry of “get her!” breaking the spell that had overtaken the room as every other goblin and cultist made either a break for it, committed to a last stand or, in a trio of goblin’s cae, making a suisidal attempt at kidnapping the princess all over again while giggling like mad

“Hmmm, maybe don't pull up the curtain so obviously in future I suppose” the creature said to itself while sauntering back to the portal, only to go “hmmm” and glance back at the knight who had tried and failed to stab it in the back.

“Tisk tisk, not very chivalrous of you Mr Knight” the creature said with playful admonishment.

“I. How! Who… What are you?!” he demanded to know, to which the creature replied “Why I’m, Jeon Du Termas of course, the prince of peril! Queen of all that is yet to be found! Patron of all who would seek out fame, glory and, most importantly, adventure! You know… Your god?”

Jeon turned, smiling despite the futile attempt by the knight to take his life, and tapped the offending blade which was engulfed in with a magical blue glow “and you, you I like, so have a little something extra from me”

“Now, I really must be off, you all weren't my only irons in the fire after all, but I do so hope we’ll get play again some time” he said, blowing the knight a kiss before turning away again and swishing his way back into the portal, leaving the mortals to clean up the mess of his little game like always.

In the grand overture of the cosmos there lay a goddess of great desire. One so passionate in their song that even after the stage grew cold and dark there remained hope with a warmth so gentle and pure. So quiet was the void. Bereft of pain. Barren of strife. But as the stage began to glow and the warmth of the goddess grew there was a certainty upon them.

Yes, there as the goddess woke from their slumber their passion grew. Devotion to their great work flared and all who gazed upon it stared in wonder. The lands reached their hands and the seas rushed as blood to fill the earth with pulse. Rising... rising... so much life flourished under the watchful gaze of the gods. The cradle of their love, their hate, their devotion.

And in the midst of all life that came, the goddess of war searched between all of one people. Eyes graced them in her splendor. There, in the grand fortress where light came to all, the honeyed words of one greater than them echoed soundly. Pulsing through every loyal soul that knew the voice of their shepherd came words that brought the many to bow. Yes, in the gathering of the Virtus, was Ser Navari Sathia given the honor and the pledge to become the champion of not just Celestine, but of the Virtus. For they were her people and she was their champion.

---

Navari stands at a proud 7'4". Flowing silver hair accompanied by emerald eyes and a gentle tint of pink. A warrior through and through and eager to serve on land or sea. Most recognized by silver armor and gold accents. An ideal knight in spirit and strength with an unwavering faith to her creator and an undying duty to serve her people. Where there is Celestine's call Navari is never far with a hungry grin and bloodshot eyes.

---

Names are unimportant. This god never bothered to take one, so style him Justice, or perhaps the Divine Enforcer.

And pray that you do not cross him; his body and will alike are daunting. He seems to tower over all that he comes across, larger than everything except the smallest of laws and rules. None have ever looked upon his visage (if even he has one), for in the emptiness of the void he wrought his force of will into a near-impervious suit of unadorned plate armor that covers him utterly. He is large but generally humanoid in shape, and his armor is a bleak gray that neithers shines nor get sullied by dirt and rust – it simply is how it is. Even by divine standards his strength and endurance are prodigious – he seemingly never tires, slows, hesitates, or stops, and his personality is just as relentless, forthright, and stubborn as his body.

From the first moment that he landed upon Galbar he has sworn to uphold his aspect. He respects all oaths, laws, and rules and expects the same of others. False or broken oaths, treachery, and hypocrisy (only in the sense of thinking one’s self above the rules that one has declared for others) are the most blatant of injustices and wrongs to him, and they incense him greatly. If it were possible he would personally stop any and all such instances and uphold every legitimate rule and regulation set forth by mortals and immortals alike, but alas, he is neither omniscient nor omnipotent and must submit to the realities of utilitarianism and of his limited reach. In his relentless pursuit to uphold order and authority, he is not concerned at all with the actual morality or fairness of the laws that exist – Justice does not judge or make the rules, for justice is simply the enforcement of those that exist.

Fortunately, his aspect endows him with the ability to delegate this sacred charge of his unto others. He can easily instill a fraction of his own fervor, ethos, and indefatigable will into others, and this greatly helps him in the organization of sacred orders and the elevation of heroes to uphold the law and spread his ideals of justice throughout the world. His aspect also makes him especially perceptive in his ability to discern lies from truth, and he can sometimes sense when any force or object is rebelling against the law or its lot.

Aldion

The King of Hell

Base Form:


Aldion's form is fairly simple; a man with red skin and glowing eyes, with a pair of horns that can vary in size and shape. The size of the rest of his body also varies, ranging from the height of a building to the height of a normal human. He emits a natural aura of authority and command, and at its full force mortals will find themselves feeling compelled to kneel upon witnessing him. His favoured weapon is a one-handed warhammer with a flaming head. He also carries a magical tome of laws, ledgers, and contracts.

Aspect: Hell. As the God of Hell, Aldion holds domain over the Souls of the Damned. The 'damned' referring to souls who have committed some grave sin within their lifetime. Aldion holds power over such souls. He can sense or even control the damnation within them, and he uses this power to draw them to his realm. There, they are subject to intense and agonizing torture as a form of atonement, burning away any rebellious or compassionate notions, while instilling them with discipline and unbreakable loyalty to their new master.

In this excruciating process, the majority of souls are destroyed outright, after years or even decades of searing pain. The sinful energy of these souls is then converted into raw energy, which Aldion can use to create hellish objects or demons, although the objects usually have a corrupting effect on their wielders (or may have a condition that they can only be wielded by those who are already corrupt) while the creatures tend to be an embodiment of the dark deeds from which they were created. Some souls actually survive the process, however, or for some reason Aldion might allow them to skip it (perhaps as a term of some contract), and these are made into a specific type of demon - devils. Devils are demons who still retain some memory and personality from their mortal life, and have the potential to be far more powerful than a standard demon.

Demons primarily guard Aldion's realm against those who would steal from it, while devils usually serve as his agents on Galbar, although devils can be found in Hell and demons can sometimes be deployed onto Galbar itself. They are often cruel and wicked by nature, for while their evil nature has been tempered by discipline, and they cannot directly resist the Will of Aldion, they are nonetheless evil. Some secretly seek to test mortals; tempting them down paths of damnation, either out of a desire to bring more souls to Aldion or simply for their own fun. Others are more honest and businesslike - making contracts and bargains, offering power or services in exchange for the soul of the signer or some other heavy cost, often hidden behind a loophole. Damnation must be willing, although Aldion's definition of 'willing' is quite flexible.

Persona: Aldion does not consider himself to be an evil god. In his eyes, the task he performs is a grim, but necessary one. Mortals must be held accountable for their crimes in the afterlife, else there will be no incentive to steer them toward good. At the same time, he would never consider himself to be a good deity. No. He is a lawful one, viewing himself as a keeper of laws and an enactor of retribution. He tests the mortals, and punishes them when they stumble. Sometimes he will even offer aid to mortals, although he rarely gives out such gifts for free.

Aldion also harbours a strong respect for oaths and contracts, to the point where his demons are mentally incapable of knowingly violating any verbal agreement to which they have sworn their word, or any written agreement to which they have applied their signature. However, although all contracts and oaths must be honoured, not all contracts and oaths must be in good faith. As a result, when offering deals to mortals they will usually try to include all sorts of loopholes and overly specific turns of phrases. Of course, as a result of all this, both Aldion and his demons are naturally wary toward any oaths and contracts they did not design themselves.

There are many acts which Aldion considers to be sinful. Oathbreaking, whether it be by violating a sworn spoken oath or by breaching a sign contract, is one of the worst, even if the oath or contract in question is unfavourable or if the person had good reasons for breaking it - the only way to exempt yourself from judgement is if the contract has a clause allowing it to be broken under the right circumstances. If not, then breaking any significant oath or contract can damn you, whether it be reneging on a business deal, cheating on a spouse, or rising in a rebellion against a liege you have sworn loyalty to. Aldion does not consider contracts or oaths sworn by children to be valid, but children can nonetheless damn themselves through other grave crimes.

Heresy is another grave offense. Particularly, those who knowingly spread heresy. Aldion defines heresy as spreading slander or misinformation about the gods, falsely claiming to represent the gods, or as openly rejecting and defying the gods (rejecting or defying a particular god is alright, but not gods as a concept.) Of course the heresy must be knowing: someone who is raised with incorrect beliefs and is never given reason to doubt said beliefs will likely be spared Aldion's judgement. For someone who lacks such an excuse, however... Aldion will seek to claim their soul.

Most serious crimes are also enough to damn one's soul to hell. Murder, theft, cannibalism, treason, and perjury, to name a few. Any souls that have been stained by such offenses will be naturally drawn toward the fires of Hell.

Musical Theme:
youtube.com/watch?v=eqXcYOSqavs

Seele is the personification of Pride, in all its terrors and all its glories. Seele does not display Pride as wanton pettiness for insignificant slights, for to admit that someone can easily tarnish your Pride would be to showcase its fragility. She cares little for the insults of others, and frequently finds their attempts as amusing as they are pathetic. Seele takes Pride in much of her abilities and power, but more than anything, she takes Pride in her patience.

She is not an omnipotent being, this much she knows, but those who dare to boast their power or make overtures of superiority simply play into her hands- for her all-devouring Pride see's the power of others and refines it to more suitably fit a more perfect master. Many skills and powers Seele possesses seem unusual, but they are the simple result of pompous individuals attempting to eclipse her infinite Pride.

Many a mortal or less legendary being has learned the hard way of empty brags. If you boast your superior knowledge of magic, you will soon find yourself second to her. Display the capacity for a hundred bullseyes blindfolded with a bow, and she shall display to you a hundred and one. Proclaim yourself the greatest swordsman of all, and suddenly find your blade can find no purchase against her divine swordsmanship. Usurping the power of a god is no simple task, nor one lightly undertaken, but all those gods who go before the Sovereign of Pride know to tread lightly, for who would wish to risk that the ever-hungry spider might consume that as well? Logic would dictate that no God can usurp the Aspect of another without the destruction of the God in question, but a knowing smile and a veiled word is all Seele needs to feed an unfounded fear.

Seele makes no claims to omnipotence for she knows she does not need it. The universe contains everything there is to obtain, and the universe shall bring to her what she requires, for the Sovereign of Pride is all she needs to be when she needs to be. Her capacity to grow with her imperative to outstrip others comes not from her individual focus on a singular concept, but by her capacity to absorb many things and use them in unison to outmaneuver her enemies. She may not outdo a god of Swordsmanship with her own bladework, but need not do so when she has encompassed other aspects that she may overwhelm her opponent in areas of expertise in which they do not touch.

Seele is neither Good nor Evil. She's often seen as universally selfish, but in truth, she's simply whimsical. She loves and hates freely, shares and takes without regret, and can take Pride in others deeds as much as she can her own(or close to it, at least). Her initial origin was from arachnids, or so she claims, and her numberless children see their Sovereign as their one true master. She is a mother, a teacher, a terror, a calamity, a messiah, she is whatever she wishes to be. The one thing she refuses to be- is bored.

When one falls into the mud in pain and defeat, those who find the strength to look up just might find Seele standing above them, smiling down at them. For Pride is above the qualms of Good and Evil. Pride is about value, and can only find meaning when a spark of it burns in your own heart.

And Seele's favored children and chosen find their Pride as the source of strength they so often desperately need.

Personality wise, she can often surprise many who visit her. While she is capable of grandiose and extravagant mannerisms, it's not uncommon to find her remarkably reticent. Sometimes she is simply not in the mood to be overtly social with others, to the point that she could be described as quiet and soft-spoken, as well as easily distracted by other tasks. It is unclear precisely what causes these episodes of seeming social fatigue, but it is the time she is safest and most dangerous to be around. Those who are polite and respectful find her easier to talk to, but those who annoy her with rudeness or disrespect can find her fatigue translates into impatience, dismissing you from her presence or even growing violent if she begins to interpret defiance as a declaration of hostility.

But one thing is for certain in the enigmatic figure that is the Sovereign of Pride- those who are her allies find her a stalwart companion, and those who are her enemy soon find that their own Pride becomes their downfall.

Seele leaned back in her throne as she watched events unfold within her domain. Many brave, bold, foolhardy fellows had descended into the deep darkness that lied beneath the ground, all for their own reasons. Their numbers had been many once, but it was not long before their numbers had dwindled, most due to cowardice. It had been a disappointing show at first, watching their numbers rapidly shrink, none showing themselves worthy of attention. Except one.

One remained, and even as she was awash with visible terror, she did not turn around. She ventured further and further into the darkness, a lantern and a dagger all that she had to preserve herself within the caverns, tunnels, and caves that contained so many of her children. She did not stop, even as she began to see the thousands of glowing eyes in the darkness watching her, waiting, pondering.

Her gritted teeth was the preamble to her running; a foolish decision, but it was one not born of fear, but defiance. Well, perhaps a little fear based on the tears running down her face. But she ran forward.

It was a shame that there was a cliff there.

Seele watched as the young woman exited the tunnel and soon found herself in thin air, running off the edge of a cliff without even realizing it. She tumbled down the rockface, bouncing several times before landing with a sickening crunch.

Seele watched as the young woman, barely alive, began to push herself up, but quickly screamed as she fell back down- she wouldn't be going anywhere with those shattered legs. The goddess leaned forward as she watched curiously- as the girl began to crawl. Her lantern in pieces and her dagger lost, she crawled toward nowhere, but her expression...

So defiant. So consumed by willful stubbornness.

"I... won't lose. I'll... show them all."

Seele found her lips curl up at those words as the girl snarled them out. She did not know what had brought this mortal down here, what legends she was chasing- not yet.

The girl began to scream as Seele raised her hand, looking into her palm where a tiny image of the girl laid. She tugged at the girls legs, humming as she worked, listening for prayers for mercy or weakness, but as she expected, she heard none. She heard only curses of pain, the slamming of first against stone and the swiping of her hands at an 'attacker' she could not see.

Soon enough, her work was done. She watched as the woman panted, the pain gone, only exhaustion remaining. The girl opened her eyes, blinking as she now saw in the darkness as she could not before. She attempted to rise from the ground and found the task easier than she expected. Her eyes drifted down at the gift Seele had bestowed upon her- her weak and broken legs no more, replaced by the lower half of a spider, eight strong armored legs and the abdomen fitting an arachnid.

She stared only in disbelief for a moment before her eyes drifted up, for only now did Seele allow her to see- that she was standing in the palm of the goddess hand, a goddess whose perceived size dwarfed her by a magnitude beyond comprehension.

The goddess' smile broadened as she stared down at her new adherent.

"I do believe I like you. Tell me..."

Seele raised her hand to be more level with her face, her eye far larger than the half-spider girl.

"What is your name?"