#direbog lore

[myymsie]

March 8th || Thrones

The Thrones are a classification of angel said to carry the divine’s seat of power upon their back, hence the name. However, they also often are referred to as the warriors who protect the divine. That being said, the Direbog do not have some divine being or divine warriors. They do have central guardians for the grove and the Wiseone. These are elite combat specialists who are trained to fight and kill anyone who would threaten the Matria, grove, or the Wiseone. This includes the villagers themselves...

Lakh Strutstep is my newest swampie baby. I decided to combine elements of the jaguar with a peacock! Butt feathers, these are used to distract as he moves into a better striking position and he is not afraid to get dirty in a fight. I didn’t pick a peacock for the beauty, but because those birds are assholes. They were typically used a a symbol of protection for royalty just as the jaguar was used as the symbol of the warrior.

[myymsie]

March 6th || Seraphim

“Not everything with teeth smiles, and not everything that smiles is friendly.”

The seraphim are said to be angels with six wings. The two that cover the face, and two that cover the feet are said to represent service to the divine. The six feathers on the head represent each of the primals that the Direbog recognize and respect. Each wing takes on a color that stands for a primal. True to the design of the Direbog, their seraphim would be willing to uncover the face for a time. However, when the face is revealed are they smiling? Maybe...

[myymsie]

March 5th || Pestilence

“Never listen to the babbling of one who scratches their ear till it bleeds.”

Pestilence is a short, squat little creature that laughs along with the Direbog. Fleas, ticks, biting flies, and all manner of vermin travel in their wake as they dance the  Dreadmire. A jester spirit, the Direbog know them as the playful flea biting their skin then jumping to avoid the smack. Pestilence is the mosquito that buzzes near the ear, but manages to bite your knee. They are the fungi that wilts your flowers and attracts the slugs. A trickster, a joker, a friend the Direbog love to hate. 

[myymsie]

March 4th || Famine

“They say the birds only come during the lean times. The dry season has lasted longer than usual... These are bad omens.”

Famine is lean times. It’s when all the fruit is rotten or dried up, and your emergency stores are dwindling to nothing. Suffering is only the beginning as starvation drives some to do terrible things. Some are driven from the safety of the bog. The creatures come when the pickings are scarce to snatch up the weak, the old, and the stupid. Famine is not a friend, but it is a helpful spirit in the end...

[myymsie]

March 3rd || War

“I am the spirit of War. I do not congratulate you on your victory. I weep for the innocents. I wear the arrows of poor decisions. I am not a kind spirit... I am the ugly truth.”

War is never something the Direbog wish upon another, as it only brings bloodshed and pain. Given the image of the fat frog, the Direbog believe most wars are fought over greed and gluttony for things that are not always necessities. Where some groups see war as a deity or a spirit that pushes to create conflict, the Direbog see War as a spirit weeping for it all to end. A bullfrog that has walked the weave and spoken to the spirits victim of conflict and war, they know the true cost of their existence.

[myymsie]

March 1st || Fairy

“Their wings sparkle like water!”

“They are the fairies that tend to the more difficult plants. Don’t pester them, though... That stinger is not for show...”

They fly the skies and make sure that the trees are able to fruit properly. Described as the mythical fairies that bring the summer to a close with the rise of ripe fruit, these bugs are considered sacred. Many have lost their lives to the sting, and those who have survived are never the same. Few have mastered the skill needed to control the swarms, and are as deadly as the creatures they command. Fairy handlers often trail their fingers along the pulse of the weave.