Spoiler: Krokk'shaw
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Krokk'shaw
The Crocodile King, the Deathmaw, the Lurker in the Depths
Domains: Animal, Beastial, Scalykind, Strength, Watery Death
Alignment: N
Worshipers/Servants: Lizardfolk, Reptiles (Alligators/Crocodiles in particular)
Symbol: The jaws of a giant crocodile biting down on the skull of a black dragon
Long ago, during the Long Night, a group of lizardfolk who had yet to come to worship Yig were assailed by an evil black dragon who sought to turn them into his slaves. The lizardfolk fought back, but the dragon was stronger, beating the tribe into near submission. Only the chieftain of the tribe remained, but just as the dragon was about to finish him off, a giant crocodile emerged from the waters and assailed the dragon. Being quite young, the black dragon was unable to fight off the might of the beast and was slaughtered, dragged down to the deep for consumption by the victor.
The lizardfolk tribe came to venerate this crocodile as a divine being, and began to venerate it as such, giving it offerings and saying prayers to it in battle. Over time, the worship the lizardfolk gave the crocodile power, and as the tribe grew and their veneration of it increased, the crocodile, named Krokk'shaw by the tribe, managed to gain status as a demigod.
Krokk'shaw demands little from his followers, needing only their prayers and frequent offerings of meat to be satisfied. Still, his followers often venerate their god in other ways, such as through the creation and performance of elaborate rituals, and combating the servants of Yig, who many servants of Krokk'shaw believe to be a threat to their god.
Spoiler: Miira
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Miira
The Mirage Mistress, the Giver of False Hopes, the Desert Monarch
Domains: Diabolic, Illusion, Sand, Suffering, Sun
Alignment: LE
Worshipers/Servants: Devils, Dopplegangers, the Dying, Illusionists, Mimics, Scorpions, Sphynxes, Vultures
Symbol: A skeleton lying within an oasis
A dying man slowly stumbled through the desert sands under the scorching hot, unforgiving sun, his legs nearly having given out. His entire body was dripping with sweat as another wave of exhaustion coursed through his form. He slumped over onto his knees, breathing heavily, licking his cracked, pained lips, but to no avail, for his tongue was just as dry.
He looked up at the giant ball of flame that hung in the sky before letting out a strained curse at the mostly forgotten god Eos, knowing well that he was more than likely to die of starvation or thirst long before any of her felines could possibly reach him. As he did so, he could see out of the corner of his eye the vultures that had been circling above him for some time now, waiting for him to drop so they could pick the carrion off his bones.
Continuing on his futile march towards an unknown destination that some minute, dying part of him still hoped would be some form of relief from the scorching hell he was in, whatever form it may take. He trudged to the edge of the dune he was on, looking down at the sands below.
And there, he saw it.
Below him, illuminated by the sun, lied a beautiful, lush oasis.
His lips quivered, before breaking out into a large grin. He forced himself onward to the sliver of paradise.
The grass beneath his boots was a vibrant green, a welcome change from the beige sands. The leaves of branches of towering trees provided much needed shade, a shield from the unforgiving rays of the sun, and the lower branches grew large, succulent fruits that tasted like the ambrosia of the gods as he bit into them. And of course he couldn't forget the large pool of heavenly blue water that lied at the center, slowly rippling as a formerly unnoticed cool breeze that blew over it. Laughing with purest of joys, he excitedly plunged in, in euphoria as the cool liquid flowed over his body.
But then, in naught but a blink, it was all gone. The grass, the trees, the shade, the fruits, the water, all of it gone. In his mouth lied countless grains of sand and small pebbles, which he quickly spat out, coughing as all the searing pain that had previously been lifted tore across his feeble body once again. The cries of the overhead vultures quickly filled his ears as he began to sob is misery, falling onto his back as he gave in to despair.
It had all been an illusion, a vile, damning mirage that had taunted him so, holding out salvation before pulling it back and striking him across the face, laughing...wait. That laughter was not in his thoughts.
Confused, he opened his eyes, and before his eyes floated above the ground a tall, beautiful, six armed woman. She wore a bediah that looked to be made of swirling sand and fire, and her body was adorned with shining jewels and gold. Her eyes were like miniature suns that nearly blinded him when he dared look into them. Swaying behind her were a bushel of black scorpion tails. In each of her six hands she held a long, golden scimitar.
She laughed to herself as she slowly, sensually danced toward him. As she grew closer, he could vaguely see that this appearance held a vaguely transparent, shifting quality to it, as if naught but an overlayed image, but he could not make out what may have lied beneath.
"Aw, did someone enjoy my sweet little gift, hmm?" she said in a happy, singsong tone that overlayed a dark, booming, secondary voice, "Why, I'm positively flattered!"
She grinned, revealing rows of black fangs, licks of flames escaping her maw from between her teeth as she bent down to level her face with his, one finger gently lifting his head to look at her as her smile fell to a frown.
"Hmm...but you seem so melancholy now? Whatever could be the matter? I thought you'd liked my present...", she said, feigning a sorrowful tone, before a giggle escaped her lips as wisps of flames shot from her nostrils.
"Oh, I know. It's because it just couldn't last, isn't it?" she questioned tauntingly, before standing herself back up, turning away from him.
"Well, I'm afraid, my dear, sweet, little friend, that good things like that simply don't last forever..."
She paused, before turning her head back to face him, her mouth twisting into an unnatural, impossibly wide grin, one that made his entire being shudder with primal fear.
"At least, not without a price..."
The lesser archdevil Miira is said to be the incarnation of the collective dreams of those who have died in the desert wastes, twisted into a vile fiend by the Nine Hells itself.
Miira claims dominion over the desert wastes of the world, in particular the Desert of Desolation, where her influence upon the mortal world is said to be at its greatest. There, she taunts the dying with her mirages, holding hope before them before tearing it away, just to laugh at their misery. Occasionally, however, she will send an aspect to visit them, offering to make her illusions a reality for them, for a price. What this price is can be a variety of things, most often their souls or the souls of others, or both. Those who fail to uphold their end of the bargain find themselves dragged to her sandy domain in the hells, where they are left to eternally rot under its scorching sun, never allowed the release of death.
Cultists of Miira are often the priorly mentioned dying she appears to, though are frequently intermixed with other desert dwellers, illusionists in particular. Rarely are they seen without at least one doppleganger, who are said to be Miira's favored race. They frequently utilize scorpions and escpecially vultures, who are her sacred animal, and through breeding and hellish magics they have created several powerful, fiendish variants of such creatures. Many such breeds have escaped into the wilds and populated themselves, and continue to be a scourge to desert travelers.
Miira dwells in a vast desert expanse within the Nine Hells. It is said to be located on the first hell, Avernus, though some believe it actually lies somewhere within the icy eight hell, Cania. Wherever its true location, this desert, named the Bloodsand Scourge, is a hellish wasteland covered in crimson red sand that slices through armor, clothes, and flesh alike. The black sun that hangs above it is said to emit a searing heat greater than any other desert across the planes. Here, those damned souls Miira has claimed crawl endlessly about the wastes, baked by the scorching heat, taunted by seemingly infinite varieties of illusions tailored specifically for each specific soul, and assailed constantly by vultures that flay the flesh from their bodies, only for it to later regenerate so they may assail them again, never allowed the release of death.
At the center of the Bloodsand Scourge lies Miira's dwelling, a massive sphynx constructed of gold and bone known as the Searing Beast. Should Miira wish, it can animate at her will as a mighty, powerful construct to assail any who would dare oppose her.
Re: Creating new gods for Pyria - all ideas and suggestions welcome.
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