There exists a town on the far off shore of Israthel and in that town lies a very, very wealthy family, one that had the most beautiful children. And it is this family, the Blackstone Monarchy, that took the island of Israthel from the shining beacon of heavenly fire to the smoldering ruins it is now. From their perfection sprang a terrible flame that would refuse to be snuffed out.
You see, the island of Israthel was home to the high arts. It was an island brimming with artisans and craftsman of all sorts. It was home to many art galleries, studios, theaters, and had vineyards that stretched on for miles and miles.
It was a lynchpin of trade and layed between some of the largest and most powerful kingdoms. Everyone clambered for a place to dock and trade, somewhere to wait out the great storms of the sea, relax, and enjoy the splendors of civilized life while out on the ocean.
Israthel was a wondrous place. It had food and customs that stretched across kingdoms and held many famous festivals. The most notable festival was the festival of fire, the Lantern Festival. The many great artists and craftsman would come together and send their wishes up into the air, taking their passion and love and letting it light up the sky. It was a festival of joy, one of love and prosperity, and it was held by the wealthiest family on the island.
The family that held the festival was the Blackstones. They were merchants and the wealthiest patrons on the island. They believed, foolishly, that they were perfect.
They had a beautiful, expansive estate.
They had many works of art, ranging from paintings to sculptures.
And they had beautiful, talented children.
The children of the Blackstone family possed a number of desirable traits. They were healthy, brilliant, quick witted, and skilled in the arts.
The youngest daughter was skilled in the art of apiculture, the keeping of bees. The bees were vibrant and full of life. They had received only the best care and the youngest daughter would ensure that herself. After all, the Blackstone bees were instrumental in the maintenance of their vast gardens, which was the grandest feature to the estate.
The gardens were, to put it how so many had phrased it, perfect.
There were beautiful trimmed hedges, a wide open courtyard, and a sickly rainbow tapestry of pale, muted flowers, like their lifeforce was frozen before they could reach their full radiance.
Every inch was sculpted to perfection and not a single blade of grass was out of place.
For being a garden, a place to celebrate the beauty of nature, it was a deathly, artificial place. It was cold, empty, and hollow.
The gardens had no soul. And the youngest daughter hated it.
How could her poor bees, these beautiful perfect creatures, have their worked sulled by the grim upkeep of the gardens? Their life giving work, their work that can produce the most splendid of things, was being squandered to maintain the unnatural, irreverent, and disgusting gardens.
The perfect daughter hated the perfect landscape, so clearly one of those things was not as perfect as the Blackstones had thought. They decided that it was their daughter who was imperfect, a crass assertion that would not be entirely without merit. She was imperfect, but so are all living things.
The youngest daughter held within her a flame, a sort of passion that grew well past the outline she was supposed to live within. She had a passion about her, a spark of life that lived within her, one that was vastly dissimilar from her family and was very much like all the artisans and craftsman of the island.
And yet, rather than nurture her spirit, her family demanded her to change.
They took her from her bees and forbade her from ever stepping foot near the gardens, lest she tear it apart like the devil child she is.
They trapped her in every possible sense.
When she spoke out they scolded her.
When she pleaded to seek the arts they denied her.
When she snuck out to be with her bees they punished her.
She was stifled, choking, and longing to be free.
And then the Lantern Festival began. The day where the great artists of the island take their passion and set it free. The most beautiful, joyous, happy, splendid festival that made the twisted, unnatural gardens breathe a breath of life.
It was on that day that everything went to hell.
The Lantern Festival was held in the gardens, the place where the imperfect daughter was forbidden to enter.
But forbiddance could never stop the spark of life that dwelled within artists.
A painter needs their canvas.
A sculpture needs their clay.
And the imperfect daughter needed her bees.
And there was no better time to acquire those things than when everyone was up in arms and having a good time. So the imperfect daughter planned to sneak out to be with her bees once more.
When sunset came and it was time to release the lanterns up into the air and the festival would be in full swing. She would steal a lantern and take it to the hive, hiding her bees inside. By opening and closing the seal on the top she could safely and stealthily move them and so she could set them free, all without a single soul knowing.
She snuck her way to her bees and carefully lead them into her lantern. She could only fit a few without anyone noticing, but it was enough to know some could be free. As she finished and began to sneak away to the town, she was stopped by her family. Deciding that, clearly, she just wanted to participate in the festival, they excused her actions. Much to her dismay this meant going to the gardens, the last place she wanted to be.
As they marched her to the gardens she protested, struggling to get away. This did not please her father, who thought she was finally making a turn around. It was only made worse when he forced her to participate in the lightning of the lanterns.
The imperfect daughter fought and tried to resist, but adults can easily over power a child, especially when they do not care for their emotions.
Her father ripped the lantern from her hands and her mother kept her at bay.
“Now dear, we are going to have a fun time. You don’t want to ruin the festival, do you?” her mother cooed as her father struck a match.
“It’s time you participated in the festival! Whether you like it or not, you can’t hate these gardens forever” her father said, gesturing to the dreadful gardens that his daughter could certainly hate forever.
The father held the match to the seal, setting it ablaze.
As the lantern rose up through the air there was a great whirring sound, a noise that echoed through the vast estate.
The daughter looked up in terror as she saw the only thing she truly loved go up in smoke. Her heart stopped.
The lantern floated up as her bees, now on fire, rained down over and around her, but never once harming her. They glowed like embers, brilliantly red and orange and yellow as they swirled around her, dancing across her body and surrounding her in beautiful, gleaming light.
And then something peculiar happened. Something more horrific than watching the only things you love burn before your eyes and something more surprising than discovering they were miraculously ok. The bees, rather than swarm and fly about wildly as one might expect, began to attack the garden, igniting it almost instantaneously. The bees seemed to multiply, flooding through the vast gardens with ease, burning the dreadful bushes and wretched flowers alike.
The Blackstones had tried to smother the ember inside their daughter and in doing so awakened an inferno.
The imperfect daughter was no longer afraid of her father or was forced to be ashamed of who she was. The world was burning down and she no longer felt afraid of anything. Everything she hated, along with all that she loved, was burning around her.
And she loved it. Oh, she loved it.
She could feel all of it. She sensed the flames just as she had for her bees. They were one and the same. It was kind, playful, and inviting to the young girl. And much worse than that, it was obedient.
She held an outstretched hand towards her mother and father. The embers glistening in the black smoke swarmed towards her command, like a thousand blazing darts. The swarm washed over them like a wave of pure fire, lapping against the cliffs. They were utterly consumed, engulfed in the heat and chaos.
And the destruction did not stop there.
The swarm would continue to raze every single inch of the island until there was nothing left, only ashes and soot and dust.
The island burned.
And it was no more.
No towns, no gardens
No artists, no festivals
The desolate, charred landscape only features were mounds of ash.
But within those ashes lied an ember, a faint, glistening spark in the gloom.
The ember grew and grew, sputtering intensely as it struggled to keep itself alive.
From the ashes, something was born. Something dreadful rose up. A single hand reached up from the weak flame, pulling out of it a body as intense and as scorching as the sun. It’s hair was long and flowing, bellowing with smoke and it’s skin was red hot metal.
Arlana, the goddess of fire, was born, forged from the ashes of her former life.
As she surveyed her landscape and her new life, she felt a familiar presence. Lingering embers began to rise from the ashes as small bees, covered in soot, flew up to greet her.
Her old life was gone, nothing more than bad memories and cinders.
As she looked out over the wastes a single desire burned in her mind, searing itself into her heart, and igniting her very soul.
She would purge the world of its perfections, of its lies too good to be true.
She would burn as bright as the setting sun and engulf the world in flame.
A rival pantheon has a God who gets the bright idea to try and get the members to desert the pantheon by appealing to their base fears and desires on separate occasions.
Ko: "You aren't scarier than my friends and I would prefer to keep them as such."
Arlana: "This is the most fun I've had in centuries and you know you can't compare."
Sha: "I've yet to meet anyone else worthy of sharing some of my pedestal. It'd be terrible lonely at the top without them wouldn't you agree?"
Inet: "No no keep going. I want to see if what you say will be as stupid as I think it will be."
Kaetal: "I wen't through too much trouble to even get here, how much of a fucking idiot do you think I am?"
Vel: "Did you just ask me to leave the pantheon I fucking built from the ground up?"
As gods, their domains are parts of them. They can hear and see and feel what goes on around them, using their domain as microphones and cameras
- - -
Sha: the clinking of coins, the chirping of birds. What happens under the mid day sun. The sound of paint brushing and stone being chiseled and metal being worked
Arlana: the buzzing of bees, the warm breaths and sighs. What occurs by candlelight or lanterns. Laughter and singing. Everything done in the heat of the moment
Vel: the cold glares, the cool breeze. The cracking of ice. All crowns and rings. What happens under the full and new moons
Kaetal: ragged breath and clashing steel. The thunder and pouring rain. Everything done with a racing heartbeat and said through gritted teeth
Ko: the quiet judgments, the rejections. The thorn bushes and what they cut or pierce. The rustling of leaves. The darkness of the forest
Inet: the hushed whispers, the turning of pages. The thoughts and memories you forgot. The tall grass and everything done alone
Goddess of fire, mania, and desire. She is the warm glow and the raging inferno. The gentle kiss and the enchanting song.
Traits: Long, flowing black hair the wisps like smoke. Deep, red, jewel-like eyes. Embers float off from her skin
Motifs: Bees, petals, amber
Colors: Amber, crimson, ruby
Personality: Arlana is a petty god fueled by rampant want and desire. She loves people. Drinking, eating, partying, sex, etc, but absolutely despises commitment and lavishes in abuse. She pledges no oath and swears no fidelity. She is goddess of song and she sings for all.
The most cunning and seductive of the gods, Arlana is nearly impossible to forsake. She’ll sink her claws in, leaving her mark, and it’ll be impossible to escape. She can make anyone love or lust for her and make her more desirable than she truly is. She toys with people, using and abusing and neglecting anyone she so pleases. Her charm has made others self harm in attempts to please her.
Relationship with the others: She is very much a young socialite and is always trying to make some connection amongst the pantheon. Tea with Inet, shit talking with Ko, parties with Sha, etc. She is very personable and always chooses a winning side, sometimes playing peacemaker when they need it.
Their rule: Her rituals and traditions all deal with fire and are probably the most dangerous out of the whole pantheon. Probably because she enjoys watching people getting maimed or dying during them.
Their court: Rated R for Rip your heart out, her court is one of incredible intensity and act as a sort of entourage for her. Always present. The sheer number of court members, followers, and civilians she keeps around at all times means any situation can become a spectacle.
Notable crimes: Immolating people she finds attractive, setting entire cities ablaze with passion or literal fire to the point that they’re obliterated
Sustained by: Festivities. Solstice festivals and parties or events fuel her. She also has a number of holidays and practices revolving around burning effigies.
Home: A sprawling palace at the base of a volcano. A large port allows people from all over the world to come and join the festivities. The volcano is a nest of massive, amber-dripping bees that produce lava as they expand her palace and create more islands (they also serve as security and surveillance).
There is a reason gods and godhunters are needed to kill gods. Gods can reconstitute their bodies and make any number of disposable elemental domain pieces to fall into. The only way to truly get past this is via divine energy, weaponry, or blessings.
In addition, they naturally heal at incredible rates and their endurance is typically much stronger than a regular person. If the god’s domain is less sturdy and more fluid, like water or fire, typical means of damage don’t really injure them. Even without falling into their domain, their bodies are much sturdier than a mortal’s.
Vel is largely made from reinforced ice with a permafrost skeleton structure. His blood is something akin to liquid nitrogen, easily sealing himself back up or flash freezing materials to repair himself. Incredibly sturdy and tank-y, easily the highest natural armor of the Sovereigns.
The skin of a god is typically normal with minor augmentations, but Vel has full dermal armor as a base state, making him incredibly dangerous and durable. Arrows pathetically bounce off of him and direct cannon blasts don’t do much more than crack him.
- - -
Arlana dissipates into fire and smoke and can pull herself back out. She can also spawn embers to pull herself from further sources. With embers and smoke, she has impressive range in terms of healing and regrouping.
Her fluid form makes her extremely dangerous and fast in open areas and the speed in which her smoke and embers move can allow her to effortlessly escape, regroup, and heal.
She becomes especially dangerous in open areas with fuel, like fields or forests. Her fire burning more only adds to her domain
- - -
Sha bleeds liquid gold and his bones are an amalgam of interlaced materials. His method of magic is touch and as a result, his injury and flayed/bleeding body can convert nearby materials to gold/silver/gems/etc to heal himself.
Easily the weakest physically due to his poor design, but a master at pulling himself back together.
He is known for covering a battlefield with his own viscera, turning it into his own playing field. Conversion of materials is a rare ability and makes him incredibly resilient. Gods often fall back into their domain to heal, turning parts of themselves into pure element, but Sha largely refuses and thus, heals the fastest in his base form via conversion.
- - -
When Inet has to physically interact with things, most of the time she simply turns invisible and projects a manifestation of herself. She’s one of the only gods to ever physically be in more than one place at once. Coupled with invisibility it is near impossible to ever truly land a hit on her.
Her true physical form is made from crystal, creating sharp, jagged edges when harmed. Her blood is like ink, staining surfaces with texts and secrets.
The orbs that constantly float around her can be consumed to quickly heal her or sent away to conjure a (slightly) weaker projection. This allows her to be in up to 6 other places at once or heal herself instantly 6 times, the orbs working as the same fuel supply for both.
- - -
Kaetal is known for her power and speed, but her incredible healing is perhaps what makes her even more scary. She uses much of it to keep herself together, often healing in a mere instant from very serious wounds, making her seem completely unstoppable. Combined with her speed, she is rarely seen genuinely hurt and staying that way for more than maybe 3 seconds.
When actually, truly injured, she bleeds lightning in a pretty horrific display.
Due to her high energy consumption and consolidation, she has a tendency to collapse after incredibly strenuous battles while not even appearing to have any wounds. She gets burn out, smoking from her mouth and eyes.
- - -
Ko, as a god of plant life, isn’t exactly one entity. All gods are part of their domain, but for him in particular, his physical form is like an extension of a sacred forest, a disposable copy. A physical form is required for the larger extent of his abilities. As a result of this and his paranoia, he always prepares seeds, spores, and fungal pods to either heal himself or regrow a body.
His home sacred forest expands for miles and miles, covering a wide region. Within the heart of this region lies ruins and within their depths lies his true, original, physical body. While within his sacred forest or connected territory (of which there are many) he is nearly impossible to stop and a fatal kill is only temporary if it is not his original body.
He has incredibly fast full body regeneration and is an expert in self stitching, second only to Sha.
There is a reason gods and godhunters are needed to kill gods. Gods can reconstitute their insides and make any number of disposable elemental domain pieces to fall into. The only way to truly get past this is via divine energy, weaponry, or blessings.
In addition, they naturally heal at incredible rates and their endurance is typically much stronger than a regular person. If the god’s domain is less sturdy and more fluid, like water or fire, typical means of damage don’t really hurt. Even without falling into their domain, their bodies are much sturdier than a mortal’s.
- - -
Vel is largely made from reinforced ice with a permafrost skeleton structure. His blood is something akin to liquid nitrogen, easily sealing himself back up or flash freezing materials to repair himself. Incredibly sturdy and tank-y, easily the highest natural armor of the Sovereigns.
The skin of a god is typically normal with minor augmentations, but Vel has full dermal armor as a base state, making him incredibly dangerous and durable. Arrows pathetically bounce off of him and direct cannon blasts don’t do much more than crack him.
- - -
Arlana dissipates into fire and smoke and can pull herself back out. She can also spawn embers to pull herself from further sources. With embers and smoke, she has impressive range in terms of healing and regrouping.
Her fluid form makes her extremely dangerous and fast in open areas and the speed in which her smoke and embers move can allow her to effortlessly escape, regroup, and heal.
She becomes especially dangerous in open areas with fuel, like fields or forests. Her fire burning more only adds to her domain
- - -
Sha bleeds liquid gold and his bones are an amalgam of interlaced materials. His method of magic is touch and as a result, his injury and flayed/bleeding body can convert nearby materials to gold/silver/gems/etc to heal himself.
Easily the weakest physically due to his poor design, but a master at pulling himself back together.
He is known for covering a battlefield with his own viscera, turning it into his own playing field. Conversion of materials is a rare ability and makes him incredibly resilient. Gods often fall back into their domain to heal, turning parts of themselves into pure element, but Sha largely refuses and thus, heals the fastest in his base form via conversion.
- - -
When Inet has to physically interact with things, most of the time she simply turns invisible and projects a manifestation of herself. She’s one of the only gods to ever physiclly be in more than one place at once. Coupled with invisibility it is near impossible to ever truly land a hit on her.
Her true physical form is made from crystal, creating sharp, jagged edges when harmed. Her blood is like ink, staining surfaces with texts and secrets.
The orbs that constantlly float around her can be consumed to quickly heal her or sent away to conjure a (slightly) weaker projection. This allows her to be in up to 6 other places at once or heal herself instantlly 6 times, the orbs working as the same fuel supply for both.
- - -
Kaetal is known for her power and speed, but her incredible healing is perhaps what makes her even more scary. She uses much of it to keep herself together, often healing in a mere instant from very serious wounds, making her seem completely unstoppsble. Combined with her speed, she is rarely seen genuinely hurt and staying that way for more than maybe 3 seconds.
When actually, truly injured, she bleeds lightning in a pretty horrific display.
Due to her high energy consumption and consolidation, she has a tendency to collapse after incredibly strenuous battles while not even appearing to have any wounds. She gets burn out, smoking from her mouth and eyes.
- - -
Ko, as a god of plant life, isn’t exactly one entity. All gods are part of their domain, but for him in particular, his physical form is like an extension of a sacred forest, a disposable copy. A physical form is required for the larger extent of his abilities. As a result of this and his paranoia, he always prepares seeds, spores, and fungal pods to either heal himself or regrow a body.
His home sacred forest expands for miles and miles, covering a wide region. Within the heart of this region lies ruins and within their depths lies his true, original, physical body. While within his sacred forest or connected territory (of which there are many) he is nearly impossible to stop and a fatal kill is only temporary if it is not his original body.
He has incredibly fast full body regeneration and is an expert in self stitching, second only to Sha.
