Timsor the Crocodile

Timsor the Crocodile is a son of Bhamut, called the Lord of Depths and Father of Monsters.

He appears as a massive crocodile-headed god, armored in scales, wearing the tattered regalia of river-kings. He bears a stone hammer heavy enough to shatter ships.

Timsor embodies the ferocity and abundance of rivers — at once giver of fertile soil and bringer of drowning death. Inherited from Bhamut, his blood carries the essence of divinity crossed with the chaos of his beastly mother, making him feared even among gods.

He commands crocodiles and river-serpents, and his roar is said to shake mudbanks into collapse. Timsor’s hammer is not a tool of craft, but of destruction — when it strikes water, it summons sudden floods.

He is both guardian and devourer: farmers pray for his floods to bring fertile silt, yet they fear his appetite, for he drowns those who fail in their offerings.

Devotees see him as a necessary terror: harsh but life-giving. They pour blood and fish into the waters to sate his hunger. His festivals coincide with the annual floods, celebrated with feasts on riverbanks and ritual boat races in his honor.

Timsor despises his cousin Talan of the Waves, seeing the dolphin-rider’s freedom and lightness as mockery of his own heavy, lurking power. He shares an uneasy pact with Sabha the Jackal: the crocodile rules the rivers, the jackal the tombs. Between them, water and death meet.

Ta'lab the Fox

Ta'lab the Fox is a creature of great mischief, the patron of gamblers and actors. He is also called The Laughing Shadow, The Red Mask, and sometimes, the Lord of the Dice

Ta’lab is the spirit of risk and disguise. He can change his shape at will, though he delights in slight flaws in his disguises that only the clever notice.

Gamblers swear that when the dice roll strangely in their favor, it is Ta’lab’s paw tipping them. Actors invoke him before plays, believing his spirit gives them charm and wit to captivate audiences.

It is said Ta’lab once tricked both the Moon God and the Sun Knight, convincing each he was the other, and sowing enmity between them for a generation. He won the Mantle of Luck by gambling against three gods in a single night, walking away with his prize only because he wagered his own tail — which he promptly regrew.

Stories often portray him as both hero and villain, helping mortals escape tyranny one day and plunging them into chaos the next.

Sekhat

So Umirra and Marida, the daughter of the khedive, were wed and soon produced triplets -- sons Amir and Bhamut; and daughter Sekhat. But Marida died in childbirth and in his grief, Umirra followed -- a victim of his own hand. So the khedive cast the infant brothers out of his presence and handed them to the rulers of dry land to raise them, saying, "These are children of the land." But the daughter he allowed to remain for she resembled her mother and the khedive could not bear to part with her.

The sister of Amir and Bhamut, Sekhat was "not of the land" and was heiress to the realm of her grandfather, a spirit of the sea. As adults her brothers returned to the place of their birth, and not recognizing Sekhat sought to make her their wife. In their dispute, Sekhat was slain, therefore the Khedive pronounced a curse upon the land and those who live on it. 

Among other devotees, Sekhat has a specific cult of women called the Akwali Sekhat which serve as a House of Assassins.

Samak the Fish

Offspring of Bhamut, Samak is the god of contemplation and silence. He is a patron of sea voyagers and armorers. His face is a mask -- blank, unblinking, serene, unsettling. His silence is absolute.

His tail is often depicted as bronze or iron-scaled, binding him to both sea and forge.

His presence is said to be felt in the deep hush before dawn at sea, or in the rhythmic pause between hammer strikes on the anvil. He embodies the practice of inward silence, reflection, and patience. Monks and hermits sometimes take him as patron.

Sailors offer him tribute before setting sail, believing that silence and steady thought will keep them safe. His shrines may be little more than stone cairns on cliffs, facing the waves.

He blesses the forging of armor rather than weapons — things that endure, that protect. His priests say that every good piece of armor is a prayer of silence hammered into shape. Worshippers practice silent vigils at the shore, listening for the sea’s voice. Smiths might hammer three times without speaking before starting a work, invoking his patience. Offerings at sea are often weighted with bronze or iron and cast overboard in silence.

In stories, Samak rarely speaks — when he does, his words are said to echo in the listener’s mind like the toll of a deep bell.

Some myths say he was once a fish who listened so deeply to the sea that he became divine, learning the silence that underlies all things. Others say he was born at the place where the first armor was quenched in seawater, fusing smithcraft and the ocean forever.

Sabha the Jackal

Sabha is feared as the silent sentinel of tombs, a god who walks the border between mortal and divine. Sabha conceals his own bestial visage behind a golden mask, so that mortals might never gaze upon the terror of his true form. His followers say the mask is not to hide shame, but to shield the living from madness, for his face is the visage of death unending.

He is a deity of guardianship, vengeance, and incorruptible justice. Where Death guides souls, Sabha keeps their resting places inviolate. Carvings of his mask are often set above the sealed doors of crypts, a warning that he watches with tireless eyes. His presence is invoked with hushed prayers by masons and devotees during burials. To omit his name is to invite desecration.

Sabha’s hatred of thieves is absolute. It is said that if a tomb marked with his likeness is disturbed, there is a chance he himself will come. Those unlucky enough to encounter him speak of a shadow in the torchlight, a figure half-man, half-jackal, whose steps are silent as the grave. He strikes without warning, and his vengeance is brutal—thieves are found with throats torn, their blood staining the dust of the tomb floor.

Legends tell that Sabha wields no weapon, for his body itself is the instrument of divine wrath. His claws rend through armor, his fangs drip with the chill of death, and his gaze alone can stop a man’s heart. Yet the most dreaded thing about him is his silence—he never speaks, never bargains, never relents. They say that those who faithfully honor Sabha may rest in peace, but those who defile the dead will suffer his eternal pursuit—even into the afterlife.

Thus he is remembered as the Warden of the Dead, the Masked One, the Silent Avenger, and the Jackal of Tombs, whose justice is swift, and whose hatred of thieves knows no end.

Nimra the Tiger

Nimra the Tiger, daughter of Bhamut and a mortal tigress, is unique among the pantheon. Her dual nature grants her dominion over both the animal world and the divine order. From her mother she inherited the primal instincts of the hunt, the feral strength of the predator, and the ability to command the beasts of the wild. From her father she inherited divine authority, wisdom, and the capacity to inspire awe among mortals. She is thus worshiped as both goddess and totem, embodying the boundary where human, beast, and divinity meet.

Legends say that Nimra was born beneath a blood-red moon, her cry mingling with the roar of a tigress in the forest. As she grew, she displayed the ability to shift between her humanoid form and a mighty tiger, towering and radiant with golden fire in her stripes. Her claws could pierce iron, and her roar could scatter armies. Unlike her father, who deals in celestial matters, Nimra walks the earth, often appearing as a protector of villages, stalking unseen through the forests to ward off invaders.

Her greatest power, however, lies in balance. She commands both fear and trust—granting courage to those she favors, but striking terror into oath-breakers and the cruel. In her, the wild and the divine are one.

Kalb the Dog

Kalb is an experienced soldier and an even more prolific scavenger. He is the patron of mercenaries and veterans. 

Armed with his magical gladius, Bite and defending himself with Bash, his unbreakable shield; he can sometimes be seen fighting in formation with other warriors who have invoked his aid. When not in combat, he can be seen as a lone sentry or as one of a pack of battlefield looters combing the field of glory for what he considers his just rewards. 

Hesaan the Horse

Hesaan is the god of nobility and of strength. While he is capable of taking a human form, Hesaan prefers to appear as a horse. His speed is unmatched over open spaces, with barely the need to touch the ground, he can actually run over small lakes without difficulty as his speed is too great to sink before reaching the other side. 

Gazal the Antelope

Gazal is the sometime consort of Qett and rival of Asad. He is the son of Bhamut through an unknown mother. He the patron of orphans and is capable of granting others the boon of his great speed and unparalleled leaping ability, but he is also the patron of generals and of the brave.

The horns of Gazal can cause the teleportation of those who are struck by them. This is his favorite technique in combat, to simply butt heads with those who oppose him, sending them to any far off place of his choosing.

Gazal is also a strict vegan who cannot abide the sight or smell of cooking meat. 

Fahadun

Fahadun is a dark and imposing deity, embodying the sleek grace and deadly precision of the panther. Fahadun’s power lies in stealth, control, and ruthlessness, all tempered by a strict adherence to order and hierarchy. He is evil — a cold strategist who rules through fear, discipline, and an unyielding code.

His domain is the shadowed jungle and urban underworlds, places where silence and patience are as deadly as claws and teeth. Fahadun governs the hunters, assassins, and those who value cunning over brute strength. His followers seek mastery of secrets, control over their prey, and the discipline to strike only when the moment is perfect.

Legends tell that Fahadun once led a covert war against rival deities, employing spies and assassins to topple enemies without open battle. His symbol is a black panther poised to strike, and his shrines are hidden in places where darkness gathers. Despite his cruel nature, he demands order and loyalty, punishing those who disrupt his carefully woven plans with merciless ferocity.

Worshippers of Fahadun believe that through discipline and patience, one may gain ultimate power, but they must never forget the deadly shadow that follows every step.

Dob the Bear

Dob is the offspring of Bhamut and a giant prehistoric bear. He is considered the god of wrathful vengeance and righteous anger. 

Dob can grant incredible strength to the deserving when they find favor in his sight. He will raise any supplicant’s strength with a nod of his head. The gift of Dob falls away hour by hour until the person’s original strength is restored.

He has the power to manifest wherever an idol of his rests and offerings of honey and raw meat are made to attract him -- though doing so renders his idol into a pile of sand thereafter.

Bhamut

Bhamut is one of the twin sons of Umirra and his consort Marida. His mother died in childbirth and his father committed suicide. His maternal grandfather, a spirit of the sea, gave him and his brother into the care of a tribe of men of Southrun. The infants were traded again and again as slaves until they came into the care of a Barasin noble.

As he grew into adulthood, he began a conquest of neighboring tribes and peoples. Ultimately, he contested with his brother Amir for the love and hand of their sister Sekhat. While he was unsuccessful, his enmity with his brother eventually enveloped all of Southrun, except Barasa, into war.         

For his part Bhamut took strange creatures to wife and produced many offspring by each them. All of these offspring were immortal and extremely powerful -- gifted with many of the powers of their sire, but also given to all the bestial habits of their mothers.

Bhamut eventually withdrew, though some say that he was slain by a weapon of the dark elves. Either way he has left the temporal world in the hands of his volatile children. The sheer number of his offspring means that every tribe and family has its own preferred god or goddess, with most of the rest being benignly neglected. 

Bes the Cat

Bes is a Southrun god and brother of Qett. He is born of the congress between Bhamut and a cat lord. He is aloof and seemingly unfeeling, but with almost limitless curiosity. He resides on his own demi-plane -- a small island in the midst of the Astral Sea. Perhaps more than any of the gods, he has closely observed the affairs of men, but always with the same mixture of diffidence and scorn. Bes thinks nothing of ignoring those speaking to him, and if he answers, it is often with a question of his own.

Bes has 9 lives, and each of them must be killed on his own plane within a year or he will simply disappear when harmed. Bes will always land on his feet in that regard. He can lend additional lives to mortals using the same regenerative power he owns.

Azhdeera, Mother of Dragons

Azhdeera is the great draconic matriarch, said to have spawned the first true dragons from her breath and blood. She is older than kingdoms, younger than stars, a being of immense power who exists outside of mortal morality. Unlike the dragon gods who vie for alignment and control, Azhdeera maintains a terrible neutrality, preserving the balance between creation and destruction, chromatic and metallic, fire and storm.

The myths say she was born of Bhamut and an exiled Vyrum queen. At her birth, her cry cracked the sky and hatched the first clutch of eggs that would become dragonkind. Though not worshiped in the usual sense, she is revered by dragons of all kinds, who see her as the ancestral force from which they all descend. Some even claim that the various dragon types reflect facets of her many moods and seasons.

Azhdeera is rarely seen, but when she is, she appears as a titanic, serpentine dragon with no single defined color—her scales shift across chromatic and metallic hues. Her wings ripple like heat over a desert, and her eyes hold the weight of epochs.

Asad the Lion

Asad is venerated as the god of war, power and savagery. He is known to be slow to anger but implacable when roused. His fury often means that the weak and innocent bystanders are sometimes consumed in his rage in addition to those whom he intends to visit his wrath. 

His worshippers promise him kills in battle and he is said to have the battle go to those who promise the most. Lest a warrior be consumed with exaggeration, his predictions must be tempered by the fact that Asad will consume those that do not keep their promises.

Asad is a rival of Gazal for the attention of Qett, who despite carrying one of his offspring already, Qett does not give Asad her affections.

He generally appears as a giant golden brown Lion, but is able to shape change at will. He will attack by pouncing on objects up to 100 yards away. Those upon whom he lands will be clawed and bitten.

Arnabi the Rabbit

Arnabi, known among the dark cults as the Whispering Shadow, is a daughter of Bhamut embodying the guile and cunning of the rabbit—yet twisted into a symbol of fear and deceit. Though her form appears delicate and unassuming, her influence spreads like a plague through the undercurrents of power and betrayal.

As an evil deity, Arnabi governs the domains of stealth, trickery, betrayal, and shadowy secrets. Her followers are spies, assassins, and conspirators who move unseen and strike without warning. The rabbit’s swiftness and quiet footsteps are mirrored in her divine gifts: she grants her worshipers unnatural agility, the ability to vanish into shadows, and the subtle art of poisoning both body and reputation.

Arnabi’s sacred symbols are a silver rabbit’s foot—worn as a talisman—and a crescent moon cradling a pair of glinting eyes. Her temples are hidden in labyrinthine warrens beneath cities or in remote forests, accessible only to those who know the secret paths.

Legends speak of Arnabi as a mistress of whispered lies and shifting allegiances. Some say she once betrayed her own kin for a dark promise, cementing her place as a goddess who thrives on chaos cloaked in calm. Her divine servants are swift to abandon allies and quick to pounce on the weaknesses of their enemies.

Arnabi is descended from Umirra and Marida through Bhamut and Al Miraj.

Aqara the Scorpion

Aqara the Scorpion is a tempestuous deity embodying both danger and survival. As a son of Bhamut, Aqara thrives in the shifting sands of chaos, striking unpredictably and without warning. He is almost pure chaos — neither bound by law nor wholly malevolent, but fiercely independent and unpredictable.

Aqara’s pincers and tail are fearsome weapons.

Aqara’s domain is the harsh deserts, rocky wastelands, and places where life clings stubbornly to existence. His scorpion symbol represents both protection and deadly offense, a reminder that defense can swiftly become aggression. He governs those who survive by cunning, adaptability, and an instinctive readiness to strike at any threat.

Legends say Aqara was born during a great desert storm, his venomous tail marking the boundary between life and death. He is revered by wanderers, mercenaries, and desert nomads who respect the delicate balance of survival in hostile lands. His followers believe that life is a constant gamble, and that fate’s sting can come from any direction — and they must be ready.

Temples to Aqara are sparse and often hidden, marked by stone carvings of scorpions or piles of black sand. Worshippers seek his favor to gain resilience, swift retribution, and the will to endure when the odds are against them. Aqara teaches that survival demands both patience and sudden, decisive action.

The Princes of Erenes VI: The Sons and Daughter of Umirra

Umirra, Prince of Erenes, was a great physician. He came to Southrun cleansing people of their diseases and healing them of their infirmities, but he was hemmed in on all sides by throngs of seekers and did not know rest. So he went out onto the sea to seek respite and there he discovered Marida, a princess of the deep who was sunning herself upon a ring of coral.

Marida was beautiful beyond words. She had skin the hue of the ocean and hair the color of dried salt. She wore clothing that was woven from seaweed and inlaid with pearls. When Umirra saw her, he spoke to her with kind words and flattered her with poetry and bewitched her with his tongue. So Marida took Umirra beneath a whirlpool to the khedivate of her father and there to seek his hand in marriage.

But the khedive was wroth with his daughter and lashed out in his anger, grievously wounding her. So Umirra healed her. Then the anger of the khedive cooled upon seeing what Umirra did and he consented to their marriage.

So Umirra and Marida were wed and soon produced triplets -- sons Amir and Bhamut; and daughter Sekhat. But Marida died in childbirth and in his grief, Umirra followed -- a victim of his own hand. So the khedive cast the infant brothers out of his presence and handed them to the rulers of dry land to raise them, saying, "These are children of the land." But the daughter he allowed to remain for she resembled her mother and the khedive could not bear to part with her.