Zest the Enduring

Zest was once the a great tribal god of the Nandi, remembered for his laughter, his booming horn, and his boundless vigor. Even after the rise of Heimos, his cult remained too beloved to fade, and so it was taken into the fold of the Grand Temple. To this day he is honored in festivals, hunts, and games, where the people seek to embody his liveliness and zeal.

Zest is always depicted as a broad-shouldered warrior with flowing red hair and beard, his body marked with painted swirls and stripes of blue, as if he were always ready for battle or feast alike. He carries a great horn from which he drinks and through which he calls his followers to joy. His countenance is open, exuberant, and fierce, embodying life at its fullest pitch.

Zest fathered the gods Bolid and Bohst through two different mortal women, each embodying aspects of his restless and passionate nature. His laughter is said to echo in the crack of thunder, and his breath in the roar of horns at war. The Nandi told that when their people were beset by famine, Zest struck the ground with his fist, and from the earth burst mead, grain, and cattle.

Though his wildness sometimes angered other gods, it was his vitality that secured his place in the Grand Temple. He was seen as the force that keeps mortals from despair, even in the darkest of times. Zest’s rites were loud and communal, celebrated with drinking, music, and contests of strength. Horns and drums were sacred to him, and his sacrifices were always followed by shared feasts. His festivals often blended with seasonal rites, celebrating planting, harvest, or victory.

While originally tribal, Zest was given a place among the greater pantheon as the divine spark of vitality. Priests of the Grand Temple often invoked his name at the beginning of rituals, for they said that no work of worship should be performed without joy.

Wa'ada

Among the Menrasa, Wa’ada arose as the goddess of sworn word and spoken bond. She is not merely the patron of oaths, but the executioner of them, a divine witness whose memory never falters and whose justice never sleeps. Her name itself is a word for promise in the old tongue, and her earliest shrines were little more than stones marked with notches, each cut for a vow taken under her gaze.

In Menrasa legend, Wa’ada carries a jagged saw-blade, not a weapon of clean war but of punishment. With it she cuts her bote of flesh—the rightful due—from those who forswear the promises they made upon her name. A liar finds themselves marked, bleeding from wounds that no healer can mend until Wa’ada has had her share. Her devotees invoke this plainly: “It is not death she seeks, but payment. Every false oath must be paid in blood.”

As her cult spread across Southrun, Wa’ada’s worship became both feared and indispensable. Traders, chiefs, and kings alike swore their treaties before her shrines, each knowing that to invoke her was to stake their very flesh on their word. With the rise of Asharahlafillah, Wa’ada’s place was not diminished but amplified: she was declared the very Hand of Judgment in that vast pantheon, the keeper of divine law and enforcer of divine curses. To this day, those who swear by her name are bound as if by iron chains, and the breaking of such bonds is considered a crime not only against mortals, but against the order of heaven itself.

Wa’ada is depicted as a tall, stern woman with a veil over her hair and a great saw-toothed blade in her hand. Her hands are often bloody, not with rage but with justice carried out. Sometimes her eyes are painted as closed, to show she does not judge intention—only the keeping or breaking of the word.

Her rites often involve cutting palm or tongue with a blade, offering a drop of blood as token of the vow. Imprecations against liars are a central part of her liturgy.

It is said that once a chieftain sought to trick Wa’ada by swearing falsely in a tongue not his own. She split his jaw so that every language spilled from his mouth at once, and all men knew him as a liar.

Wa’ada is said to walk unseen among assemblies where great promises are spoken, her blade resting lightly against the throats of oath-takers.

When the world ends, her priests claim, Wa’ada will present a ledger of every vow broken and exact her due from gods and mortals alike. For no one escapes Wa'ada, her punishments are just and inexorable.

Vyel the Unloved

Vyel the Unloved was a tribal deity of the Fahrish humans and the brother of Veyn.

Also known as the Forsaken One, the Lord of the Hollow Heart, He Who Waits Beside the Door, Vyel was once a deity of a Fahrish tribe, but when his tribe was accreted by another, which worshipped his sister Veyn, all worship in both tribes turned to her. 

In the silence that followed, Vyel’s form withered. His beauty rotted into bitterness, his youth fell away, and his voice became a whisper that seeps into lonely hearts. He learned a cruel truth: “If love gives life, then to be unloved is to die. And so, I shall make all things unloved, that none outlive me.”

He moved unseen, feeding on the ache of abandonment. Lovers quarrel, children feel forgotten, and even gods feared the slow death of their worship — all in Vyel’s name.

“Better despair than deception.”

Vyel’s priests dwelt in ruins, empty temples, and abandoned chapels. They collected tokens of failed love — rings, letters, portraits — and burned them in rites called The Unbinding.

Some say Vyel granted strength to those who renounce all affection, promising: “I will love you, when all others have turned away.”

When Vyel drew near, warmth faded, and the air smelled faintly of dust and iron. Fires guttered low. The sound of laughter becomes distant.

His cult was accreted into the pantheon of the Grand Temple of Heaven. He is alleged to have descended from the children of Heimos, but the earliest mentions of this deity predate the rise of Heimos in 3700ey.

Veyn the Beautiful

Veyn the Beautiful was remembered first among the Fahrish tribes as a goddess of beauty and desire. In her earliest hymns she is not praised for her gifts to mortals, but for her radiance reflected back upon herself. “She is her own mirror,” the chants say, “and she burns with the flame of her own perfection.”

Where her brother Vyel governed the end of things, Veyn governed the illusion of permanence—youth that never fades, loveliness that does not wrinkle, admiration that turns ever inward. She was adored, but also feared, for her worshippers whispered that those who loved her most were doomed to be hollowed, left chasing a beauty that did not return their gaze.

When her cult was drawn into the Grand Temple of Heaven, the scribes softened her sharper edges, presenting her as a radiant daughter of Heimos, patroness of brides and maidens, a bringer of delight. Yet in private, astrologers admitted her worship had always carried a darker mirror. To follow Veyn was to risk becoming consumed by longing for one’s own reflection.

Her earliest presence predates Heimos, and this is the riddle of her worship. The Fahrish sang of her centuries before the gods of Westrun rose, describing her as a being who “walked the hills alone, desiring none but herself.” Some suggest she is a remnant of an older spirit, perhaps a shard of creation that turned inward rather than outward. Others claim she is not truly of Heimos at all, but only bound to his lineage by later priests who could not abide a goddess unmoored from heaven.

Veyn is depicted as a woman of flawless youth, sometimes half-hidden by veils or mirrors. Her eyes are said to catch the gaze of the viewer and turn it back upon them, so that to look upon her is to see one’s own longing reflected, magnified, and made unbearable.

Rites to Veyn were performed with mirrors, pools of water, and veils. Her priests were famed for their charisma and accused by rivals of vanity, but they claimed that to reflect beauty was to honor Veyn. Offerings were perfumes, combs, glass, pearls, and silks—all things meant to adorn and please the eye.

Lovers who swore vows in her name found their passion bright but short-lived, for Veyn’s gift is always fleeting.

It is said she once stood before the sun itself and demanded to know who was more radiant. The sun smiled, but did not answer.

Some prophecies warn that when Veyn casts aside her veil for the last time, the world will be consumed in a beauty so perfect it unravels all lesser forms.

Shun Ao

Shun Ao, the White Steed is the North Wind and the Bringer of Winter. He is also called the Master of Water. His spirit flows from the towering glaciers and races South over the steppes bringing hundreds of meltwater streams to the lowlands that finally join as mighty rivers by the time they reach the sea.

Scaer

One of the four women-at-arms who fights the opponents of Feere before she gets to them. Scaer along with Hore, Kwayl and Dredt will use long cruel claws to make called shots on the arms of opponents in combat. 

While their target sees them as naked, morbidly obese women with long, stringy hair, they appear to everyone else as mere wisps of vapor. 

Her cult was accreted into the pantheon of the Grand Temple of Heaven. She is alleged to have descended from the children of Heimos, but the earliest mentions of this deity predate the rise of Heimos in 3700ey.

Sagus the Wise

Sagus the Wise stands apart even among the tribal gods. His cult developed around hearths, hillforts, and sacred groves of Westrun, yet it was always whispered knowledge that he was not of their land. He was remembered as a traveler from Southrun, a figure who crossed mountains and seas to bring wisdom, law, and craft to the tribes of Westrun.

His myths carry themes of:

The Stranger-God — unlike the native deities rooted in rivers, stones, or forests, Sagus was always depicted as an outsider bearing foreign tools, weapons, or scrolls.

Bearer of Knowledge — he taught the casting of bronze, astronomy, and the ordering of time by the sun and moon, binding heaven’s cycles to human life.

The Wandering Sage — stories say he was never still; his temples were few, often waystones or shrines on roads, for he was always thought to be "passing through."

Over time, later peoples would reinterpret him differently: as a culture-hero, a prophet, or even as a disguised mortal who ascended to godhood through learning. His epithet “the Wise” is less about divine omniscience than about his role as the first teacher — a god who valued discovery, memory, and the passing on of knowledge.

His cult was accreted into the pantheon of the Grand Temple of Heaven. He is alleged to have descended from the children of Heimos, but the earliest mentions of this deity predate the rise of Heimos in 3700ey.

Ren of the Plains

Ren was a Tribal god of the Nandi who was incorporated into the Grand Temple of Westrun. He was also one third of the triad of patrons which was said to protect the City of Balduren. 

Ren appears as a young man on the edge of adulthood. He is able to tun at the speed of a horse without ever needing rest. He wears a plain shift and is always barefoot. For this reason, he is the patron of all those who undertake the Grooming Run each year.

Ren has the power to grant running, endurance or iron will to anyone for a period of up to one year. While his worship predated the coming of the Decadon, his cult was accreted into the pantheon of the Grand Temple of Heaven. He is alleged to have descended from the children of Heimos, but the earliest mentions of him predate 3700ey.

Rangk the High

Rangk is depicted as a warrior with weathered skin like sun-warmed bronze. His presence is regal and severe, inspiring both reverence and silence. Always bare-chested, he wears a weathered hide kilt and a sacred serpent-twined torc of living gold. Golden armlets bind his limbs, not as ornamentation, but as seals of his divine covenant.

In tales, Rangk walks the lands disguised as a wanderer, testing the nobility of kings, warlords, and commoners alike. Many a tyrant awakened to find his banners turned to ash and his voice stilled by divine decree. Some say the noble fire in a true leader’s eyes is a flicker of Rangk’s spirit — ever seeking to elevate the worthy and purge the unfit.

His name was invoked in courts and council-fires, and among tribes, to call for a Trial of Standing — a sacred rite where truth is measured not by argument, but by the weight of one’s deeds.

Rangk’s most sacred artifact is the Torc of Ascendance, a living ouroboros forged by Faber, the god of the forge, which he made from the vein-gold of the world’s first mountain. This torc grants him the following powers:

Aura of Authority: All mortals in his presence instinctively understand his superiority and purpose. Lies falter on the tongue; knees buckle.

Discern True Rank: Rangk sees the true measure of any being — their honor, betrayal, cowardice, bravery — as a blazing sigil above their head. No mask of humility or pride can deceive him.

Censure by Flame: Those found unworthy in his judgment may be marked by searing fire, a divine brand that strips false lords of title, tongue, and following.

Elevation: With a touch, Rangk may bestow legitimate authority upon another — elevating them to leadership with divine sanction, binding them to sacred oaths that cannot be broken without dire consequence.

Rath the Burning

Rath the Burning gave his name to the Rathor, a tribe of Westrun in the early years of the 7th Age. He gives his name to the City and Kingdom of Rath now.

He is said to have burned with a zeal for war. His devotees painted themselves to invoke his protection and his blessing in battle. His axe is Chestsplitter and it strikes armored foes as though they were unclothed. His shield is Foeward and makes him immune to all missiles. 

His cult was accreted into the pantheon of the Grand Temple of Heaven. He is alleged to have descended from the children of Heimos, but the earliest mentions of this deity predate the rise of Heimos in 3700ey.

Rash the Fool

Rash the Fool capered along roads in a bent hat and bell-cuffed sleeves -- he was a patron of jesters and of anyone who leapt before looking. His smile was the  door that swings too quickly; his blessing was momentum itself.

He is oft told in tavern tales. In some he outruns caution itself, vaulting ravines before the bridge is planned. He dodges ruin by inches and jokes. 

Jesters simply call him the Patron. Scouts, artificers, and the impetuous also whispered his name, asking for nerve when hands tremble. 

Icons show him juggling stones and he was known to give them to his devotees. Each of these is a so-called luckstone, often said to save the foolish from themselves. 

His cult was accreted into the pantheon of the Grand Temple of Heaven. He is alleged to have descended from the children of Heimos, but the earliest mentions of this deity predate the rise of Heimos in 3700ey.

Rahmeen the Merciful

A tribal god of Southrun before the coming of Bhamut and Amir, Rahmeen is invoked whenever mercy in judgement is called for, usually by those who are justly afflicted or rightfully punished. If you cannot avoid the consequences of your actions, there is always Rahmeen to fall back on. He has reversed ill fortunes, restored wealth, healed the sick, and spared the dying.

Rahaba

Rahaba is the goddess of hospitality and the protector of travelers, pilgrims and nomads. Rahaba, Lady of the Open Tent, is the soul of the Southrun peoples hearths and the guardian of all who live between milestones: travelers, pilgrims, and the nomad clans. Her image is broad-shouldered and smiling, shawled against weather, one hand at the belly—promise of provision—and the other ready to offer sustenance and rest.

Her rites are simple and binding. Bread and salt given in her name create guest-right until dawn; water poured at the threshold makes quarrel drown before it enters. Inns keep a blue cloth—Rahaba’s Veil—hung over the door: any who stand beneath it are under her protection, creditor and constable alike. Caravans knot a crimson thread around the lead camel’s bell—Rahaba’s Knot—to ward off treachery within the company.

Her devotees are hosts, midwives, way-wardens, and innkeepers. They keep the Three Lights: a door-lamp for the stranger, a hearth-ember for the hungry, and a way-lantern set high to guide the late. Offerings are cups, shawls, and walking sticks left in common racks for those who have none. To break guest-right is to invite the Haboob.

On her feast of First Water, wells are garlanded and debts are settled with shared soup. The Church of Westrun has tried to honor her as a Worthy of Mercy: feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, and making every threshold a sanctuary. 

Qalm the Peacemaker

Qalm the Peacemaker is a committed pacifist. His commandments were comically gentle: step around ants; argue only with compliments; never draw blood, not even from a fig. He practiced radical de-escalation—blessing the scout, praising the enemy’s horses, asking generals whether their mothers would approve the casualty list. Miracles followed his softness: winds slackened, dogs lie down, and once a siege ended because besiegers joined his drum circle. 

Critics called him ridiculous; he agreed, saying ridicule weighs less than armor. He kept the Vow of Open Hands: no fist, no blade, not even a shove. Instead he built tents on battlefields, poured cool water, and negotiated amnesty with lullabies. 

Extant shrines to Qalm are waystations hung with white cloth and emblem of a daisy.

Pervid the Broken

Pervid the Broken is remembered in Westrun as a tribal godling of misdirected longing. His “brokenness” named not his wounds—though he is invariably bandaged, one-eyed, and walking on a splintered crutch—but the fracture of his desires, forever tilted toward the near, the easy, and the self-justified. 

In tales told around bake-ovens and barracks, Pervid invents elaborate schemes to seize blessing without virtue, chasing them relentlessly, even though every stratagem misfires. 

Old shrines show him with a belt cinched too tight—sign of a will binding itself wrongly—and a cloak that never quite closes, for his counsels always left a draft. 

The Church of Westrun recast him not as a rival, but as a parable: desire aligned to truth heals; desire bent breaks everything. On days of repentance, penitents tie frayed twine to their wrists and say, “Let Pervid be bound." Thus his comedy became an instrument of wisdom, and a lamp for caution. The church has also labeled some people as giving into Pervid, when their desires are like his own, too bent to be managed.

Moder the Even

Moder the Even is a figure of balance and restraint, a quiet teacher whose wisdom is sought by kings, peasants, and wanderers alike. Unlike the fiery prophets or stern lawgivers, Moder’s philosophy rests upon a simple truth: excess, whether in joy or sorrow, strength or weakness, corrupts the soul. This he terms, "the Evenness," a way of walking through life with steady footing, neither stumbling into ruinous indulgence nor withering in needless austerity.

Born of humble stock, Moder was said to have labored as a craftsman before devoting himself to teaching. His open hands symbolize his readiness to give counsel freely, without command or coercion. Those who follow him practice measured speech, thoughtful action, and tempered judgment, seeking not to master the world but to walk through it unbroken.

Moder’s lessons are deceptively plain: eat until satisfied, but not stuffed; speak until heard, but not wearied; fight when needful, but never for pride. To live in his way is to find stillness in storm and clarity in shadow. His disciples call him “the Even Hand,” for he guides without forcing, steady as a balance that never tips

Kwayl

       One of the four women-at-arms who fights the opponents of Feere. Kwayl along with Scaer, Dredt and Hore will use long cruel claws to rake the arms of opponents. 

While their target sees them as naked, morbidly obese women with long, stringy hair, they appear to everyone else as mere wisps of vapor. 

When slain, they will dissipate for 24 hours’ time. 

Kuang Ao

Kuang Ao, the Green Steed is the East Wind and the Bringer of Spring. He is also known as the Master of Wood and the Spirit of Mischief and Fertility. His spirit brings both life giving rains and tempestuous storms that beat across the coasts and sweep far inland.

Kovit the Wanter

Kovit was a Tribal god of the Nandi who was incorporated into the Grand Temple of Westrun. An able shapeshifter, he is most often found in one of three forms: a man, a raven or a rat.

Kovit is often seized by an overwhelming desire to own things which do not belong to him. However, he is not a thief and will not blantantly steal. That said, he is not above using trickery or even death to obtain what he wants. In the latter case, Kovit is careful to couch his actions in an air of respectability. The tale of King Malit is instructive of this point.

King Malit was a tribal ruler in Menea centuries before the Eight Kingdoms Pact. When he ascended to that position he was given a gold leaf crown by the nearest tribe of elves. When Kovit saw the crown, he desired it greatly for his own, but Malit refused to relinquish it to Kovit. Then Kovit noted that Malit had not thanked the elves for their gift, and so he smote the ungrateful king. Then, as Malit was slain, the crown had no owner and Kovit was free to keep it for himself.

Kreyvn the Hider

Kreyvn was a Tribal god of the Nandi who was incorporated into the Grand Temple of Westrun. 

Kreyvn was once a mortal tribesman who would not accompany the warriors of his people to war, and instead, remained behind with the women and children. But when their settlement was attacked, Kreyvn abandoned those he was charged to protect, and fled for his life. 

Being chased by dogs, he climbed a hill and fell from its peak, breaking his neck. Not only did Kreyvn die, but in so doing, he disturbed the rest of an Aeniresa of the old world, which woke and finding his body, took it for a possession.

Then Kreyvn was animated once more. The fear he felt in life was thus amplified and given new vigor. In this form the Aeniresa believed it was Kreyvn and lived as him until it had burned through the body and was liberated once more.

He remains as a source of negative inspiration for others -- inhabiting those who act as the original Kreyvn had.