In the places where the Old Faith is practiced, all gods are worshiped freely, and honored according to the old customs of the Athic peoples. Often, if a church is large enough, this includes declaring a divine speaker, a conduit and mouthpiece for the deity, chosen from among their most devoted followers to walk in lock step with their god for the rest of their life. A mask is created out of sacred clay by master craftsmen, and embellished with precious metals and gemstones, worn at all times (or as often as possible, as grafting has since fallen out of fashion) by the speaker.
It is an expensive process, and one only undertaken with compliance from artisans blessed by Amora directly. It can be a competitive process, since with so few able to make the masks, the time involved in producing one, and the level of legitimacy it carries for the deity in the Old Country, there are often various mystery cults of lesser gods vying for opportunities to obtain a mask of their own. In Annesai, the seat of the Old Faith, the government often sponsors gods who reach a certain threshold of regular worship, gifting masks to those faiths who are willing to align themselves with the country.
With all this in mind, here is the curious case of the god Makrea. They have a shrine in the capital city of Annesai, and are frequently worshiped and invoked, by hunters, warriors, shepherds, and their primary house of worship receives frequent support from the city’s hound rearing guild, a relatively important enterprise. And yet, despite being a broadly worshiped figure, no successful attempt has ever been made to create a speaker mask for the Makrea, and any craftsmen approached for such a task would surely outright refuse to make such a relic. Why?
Silenced Gods
Just as men may be punished for their crimes, so too are gods. In the practices of the Old Faith, a god is not strictly guaranteed to have a speaker. A speaker is not just a way for a deity to organize their followers, they are a bridge to the mortal world.
As a speaker is so closely associated with their god, they are able to wield far more of said god’s power than any other follower in their faith would be able to, and in turn, their god can wield them. A deity can inhabit their speakers, using them as avatars, and in moments of crisis, speakers have been known to undergo a process called Mantling, with which they and their god may construct a temporary, far greater form which they can act through. When Amora’s speaker reclaimed the city of Leathe from Carthan forces, she fully mantled into a colossus made from the very bricks and stone of the city. Mantling is the closest the world has come to seeing a god in person for thousands of years, and it is one that cannot be allowed to be abused. For these reasons, some gods, the rebellious, cruel, and dangerous members of the faith, are barred from ever constructing a speaker’s mask. The risk they pose is deemed too great. Makrea is one of these gods, the silenced, and they are perhaps one of the most well known. They are a Prince of Hell.
The Princes and the Jailor
As the legends go, after Utagi was slain, Amora, beside herself with guilt, declared that the direct interference of the gods in the lives of their followers would only lead to ruin. Seeing wisdom in this, the Athe ke Yorre elected to leave the mortal plane. Rather, most did. There were others who protested this change, resented the idea that they must leave behind the mortal world and their followers. When the two groups could not reach an agreement, they came to blows, and thus began the war in heaven. Those in favor of staying lost, and while some were welcomed back into the fold after a time, the six greatest offenders, it was decided, would be imprisoned for their crimes. Beneath the world, in a pit of fire and ash, six great cities were constructed, where the gods and their followers would be banished. Six traitorous princes, bound to desolate thrones, in a wasteland below the world. Let’s meet some of them!
Makrea Dog-Fanged, Whitespear, Pale Lord, 6th Prince of Hell.
Makrea takes the form of a beautiful androgyne warrior, lithe and muscular. They are a god of predators, hunters, and fanged beasts, most especially dogs and wolves. Their weapon of choice is a stark white spear made of gnarled wood and discarded teeth, it is said that they were able to rival Raastma in martial skill, if only for a moment. Their worshippers are those described previously, hunters, owners of dogs, warriors, and, of course, mages, as all gods are said to be friends of mystics.
Makrea sided with the other princes out of loyalty to their father, Urus (more on him later), meaning they were pardoned, for the most part. However, their actions in the war were too great to be ignored, and should loyalty to their father remain, they would be a terrible enemy to the Athe ke Yorre, so they were bound to the first layer of hell, Viys. Viys is a strange city, surrounded entirely by the Fell Marsh, a bog of silt, hot mud, and strange, hellish demons. Its gates are guarded by the Dog Spears, devils that shift freely between noble warriors and pale, white wolves. Makrea and their bound devils are in many ways noble, and they offer their blessings to many, but they are said to fight like rabid beasts to defend the gates of Hell. No living thing is to pass through the gates without sufficient cause, and every devil in Viys would lay down their life to prevent such an occurrence.
Makrea’s name is used in several invocations relating to accuracy, hunting, and navigation. In the more arcane practices related to their worship, some devotees are blessed with the know-how to create hellhounds, fire-blooded dogs the size of horses who can spit flame and track someone anywhere, provided they have tasted that person’s blood. They are said to be exceptionally temperamental but training a hellhound is far from impossible. They may be thousand-pound dogs that breathe fire and have canines as long as a small sword, but at the end of the day, they are still dogs.
Ikshi-Ran, Lady of Craving, Heart Shriver, The Weeping Queen, 5th Prince of Hell.
Ikshi-Ran, said to be the most beautiful creature in existence, is recognized often by her simple, pale dress and great draping veil, traditional signifiers of mourning in Athic culture. She is worshiped in matters relating to love, but is also a fertility goddess, holding sway over matters relating to growth, agriculture, and procreation.
Ikshi-Ran rules over the second layer of hell, Gheda, for her rebellion was out of love. Some say she took a mortal lover whom she could not bring with her, but could not bear to leave behind, who almost certainly perished during the conflict. When she was finally bested, it is said that the gods looked on her weeping face and took pity, and so her prison is merciful. The city of Gheda is said to be a truly beautiful place, almost more of a heaven than a cage. It is, however, still a prison, and none leave its walls easily, least of all Ikshi-Ran. Certainly the city has done little to ease the Weeping Queen’s mind, who still mourns her lost lover to this day. All the Princes are said to be fickle with their blessings, but Ikshi-Ran is said to be even more elusive than the others, holding little but contempt and disregard for the people of the outside world.
It is maybe a bit easy for some to write off a goddess such as Ikshi-Ran as paltry in the face of warrior gods and such, but those who can truly work her miracles hold massive political sway in the world of Coris. The promise of a firstborn son or the growth of crops during a famine is no small feat, and, if violence is the thing which gets you excited about religion, sweeping famine and love charms are not insignificant tactical tools when deployed correctly. It is said that in some battles during the War in Heaven, armies facing Ikshi-Ran’s forces would simply lay down their weapons and let themselves be slaughtered, enamored as they were with their foes.
Menaead, Pox King, Corpse Breath, Spate of Lice, 4th Prince of Hell.
Unlike the previous two princes, Menaead is said to be terrifying to gaze upon. She is a goddess of plague, sickness, and vermin, parasites, any creatures you might find particularly gross or that leaves the skin crawling. Supposedly she can appear to followers in any body in a particularly gross state of decomposition, bodies dense with maggots and rife with fungus. Her natural form is not known, but it is said that simply looking upon her is enough to fell a man (perhaps this is some indication that her Gorgons are a reflection of her true form, but such talk is merely conjecture).
Menaed's little slice of hell is Anchis, a fetid pit of sickness and decay. Unique amongst the hell bound princes, Menaead was something of a neutral party. She refused to leave, but had little interest in shedding the blood of her own kind, and so it is said, lived in something of a self imposed exile for many years. She tended to her vermin and her plagues, and her Pox Garden grew, a place of strange, deadly beauty. It was not enough to dissuade the rest of the gods from leaving her alone, however, and when heaven's armies found their way to her doorstep, the fallout was disastrous. She whispered her plagues on the wind, and those and the Death Winds were born, carrying malady and disease wherever they went. Thousands were claimed by a death they could not know for reasons they could not understand. When the gods wage war, it is often mortals who suffer the greatest.
Despite the general horribleness that Menaead seems to give off, she gets a lot of worship. Being so closely tied to disease means that favor with Menaead could mean that the next big plague skips your town. Of course, no good witch worth their salt would skip out on learning to summon a plague spirit, but most of Menaead's worship is related to easing the suffering of the sick, rather than the spread of disease.
No comments:
Post a Comment