SpoilerThis is an expansion to the Mythic Subsystem put forth by Xefas. He's better at this than I am, but I'm pretty happy with this, so here it is. You can check out Xefas' classes, as well as all the other ones, over in the compendium:
The Mythos Compendium
"Inside each of us, there is the seed of both good and evil. It's a constant struggle as to which one will win. And one cannot exist without the other." - Eric Burdon
The Mythic Planetouched
Good and Evil. Such archaic and exacting phrases that elicit a number of acts and how they are understood. To slaughter is evil, to forgive is goodness. Mercy is saintly, and brutality is villainous. Such terms and thoughts can be traced back as far as the oldest minds can recall. But why are they so? How did they become this way? Why are some predisposed to martyrdom and reverence, while others are inclined towards tyranny and revilement?
When the Great Wheel was in it's earliest, in it's pupa, a war tore across all that would be existence. None can recall all that was or all that did occur throughout the eternity that was that war, but what any present will recall, in either fondness or disgust, was the deaths of both the Empyrean and the All-Shadow. Neither could truly cease existing, but neither did they remain what they once were. The grandest of the Titans fell, and the Gods turned the tides and pushed back all that had preceded them. And, in doing so, created a riff that could not be sated.
Upon one side, the loyalists of the All-Shadow came together, as did the fallen of the Empyrean's, and raised an effigy. The first artificial titan. An attempt to recreate the shadow that hid all things. And though it was great, it was flawed. It's power was that of a Titan, but its might was not, for its form was too mortal, its will too weak, its grandeur dissipated by it's inhibitions. It wanted not to turn against the Gods, but too establish itself among them, in a way impossible for a true Titan. With a wave of its' arms, it created a mate, and from this mate, spawned an innumerable number of spawn, and sent them out to do instill his will among the mortal races, unknown and unseen by the Gods who had wiped out his predecessors.
But these creations were not blind, ignorant, or dumb, as the false titan had hoped, for from his self made overlook in the darkest of darknesses, the remains of the All-Shadow granted them a glint of his guile. With the spark of that grand being, the spawn of the False Titan would turn against him, shredding his essence equally among them. They would carry out his mission, they would consort with the mortals, they would create spawn amongst one another, and they would propagate the ideals of the one who gave them sight. Following the path they were put upon by the crippled Titan, together by cause but separate by their means, were unified under a single all encompassing banner, one that would depict them as the enemies of all creation. But by the time such a discovery was made, the false titan and its disciples had planted the seeds across the world, bringing about the first creatures of Evil, and both Mortal and Divine alike knew of its pleasures.
But upon the other side, a twisted mirror was in place. Those who wished to carry on the light of the Empyrean, and those who sought redemption after following the Shadow, created a monument for all the new born races to praise. A living mass of all the Titan intended for its creations, a conflux of light and strength and beauty. Fed their memories of the Empyrean, it was trained, as a dog would, to be the beacon that would shine across creation. But the creation was corrupt, for none could duplicate all that the Empyrean was and all that it did. Disgusted by its own failure, it sought an escape, to ensure none ever saw its perfect, yet flawed, being, and that they would not seek to emulate it.
It strode across reality, seeking somewhere, anywhere, where it could hide itself from the eyes of the world. And yet, even in the farthest edges of the walls that formed the Great Wheel, its line shone across, and it drew attention. Now on the worlds stage, before an audience of all that was, the beacon decided to follow the path of its forebearer, and sought to end its own story before it began. But with every drop of blood and strip of flesh, a follower was born, pure and undiluted to the darkness that had begun infecting the prime. Each took an aspect of the Beacons light, reading it both as it was, and how they saw it. And when the Beacon had finally brought about its ultimate goal, its light did not die, for it had spread to each and everyone one of its divided creations, and they returned to the prime plane, intent on spreading its imperfect light across.
And thus was how the Empyrean's perfect glory and the All-Shadow's inexorable wickedness would be instilled. The followers of the False Titan, those marred by a drive to sin and coming from the crawling darkness, and those born of the Grand Beacon, those who were born in Martyrdom and survived on faith. And there teachings were spread across all that was the Great Plane. They passed on the war from which they were first born, but now not between creations and there creators, but between grandiose ideals. So complex in their birth, but so simple, so easily distinguishable, but also so easily hidden from the world.
In times, it was not only the Immortal Races that would know of these warring ideals, but their mortal creations as well. What was more, some were even born of these ideals. Whether from a spawn of the Effigy or the Beacon, or born of the spawn of a spawn, they can trace there lineage to the origin of those ideals that now divide the world. And in discovering their mythic destiny, in taking the steps to go above and beyond their peers, they have also awoken that deepest, longest running of heritages. Whether they follow the threads of fate they were born to, or attempt to pull down those grand ancestors, they are granted power through their understanding.