Valkyr the eldest of the three sisters, she was the first to see the world as it truly was.
Where others act, she watches. Where others judge, she understands.
Wisdom, Purity, Peace are not fragile things to her. They are her disciplines. She teaches that clarity is not softness, and that true peace is something that must be chosen.
She is often depicted as the sun, not because she burns, but because she reveals. Nothing remains hidden in her light, not lies, not fear, not the quiet truths people avoid.
Scholars, healers, and leaders who seek wisdom.
Those who believe understanding is the first step toward harmony.
People who believe that a calm mind can shape their fate.
Faye, the Mother of the Gods,
is the wellspring from which the pantheon itself was born.
She gave life to three sons and three daughters, and through them,
the living world learned how to grow, to hunger, and to love.
Life, Fertility, Passion are not separate forces. They are one endless cycle of becoming, blooming, and rising again.
Where Faye walks, seeds break stone, hearts stir with desire, and even ruined ground grows green again.
Midwives, healers, and farmers who guard the fragile beginnings of life.
Lovers and poets who honor the fire that binds people together.
Wardens of wild places who protect the bounty of nature.
Cabre is the middle child of the three sister goddesses, born between wisdom and life.
When Cabre drew her first breath, magic entered the universe alongside her, threading itself through creation like a second sky.
Magic and Knowledge are inseparable in her eyes. Power without understanding is ruin, and understanding without wonder is emptiness.
She is reflected in the stars above and the deep sea below, both vast, both unknowable, both holding truths that can drown the unprepared.
- Mages who seek comprehension before command.
- Scholars who chart the heavens and the depths in equal measure.
- Sailors and mystics who trust the stars to guide them across endless waters.
Vy’Kyl, the Fallen Star, once counted among the divine, until he turned his will against the order of death itself.
He slammed shut the Gate of the River of Souls, halting the passage of the dead.
From that wound in creation, undeath was born. The dead could no longer pass on. They lingered, withered, and hollowed, bound to a cycle that could no longer release them.
Decay, Hunger, Undeath are the echoes of his defiance. Where Vy’Kyl’s influence spreads, nothing is allowed to end, and so nothing is allowed to truly live.
Necromancers who seek mastery over death rather than acceptance of it.
Cultists who worship the promise of endless existence, no matter the cost.
Undead who cling to the last fragments of who they once were.
Tak was not born. He laughed himself into creation.
His first sound was joy, and the world learned, in that moment, that not everything needed purpose to be worth having.
Tak believes a life spent with others is a life well spent. Roads matter only because they lead to people, and luck favors those who share what they have.
Wherever voices rise in song, cups are refilled, or strangers become friends, Tak is said to be present, smiling and unseen.
- Travelers who measure wealth in stories rather than coin.
- Innkeepers, brewers, and cooks who turn meals into memories.
- Gamblers who trust fate, and companions who never let a table sit empty.
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Mor’shana once walked among the original ten divines, though she was not counted among the sisters.
She was mercy given form, and it was Mor’shana who gave Lyre its heart, teaching the world how to feel pain, compassion, and restraint.
When the Pantheon of Light betrayed her, mercy was bound in chains. Those chains burned into her flesh, and what survived that binding was no longer gentle.
Fear, Servitude, Torment, and Wrath are the scars of her punishment. They are what mercy becomes when it is denied, enslaved, and made to suffer.
- Those who have been broken and learned to endure.
- Oppressors who mistake cruelty for control.
- Souls who believe suffering must be repaid in kind.
Salin’Roth is the Betrayer, not because he strikes, but because he endures.
He is patience sharpened into intent, the quiet certainty that rot spreads faster than fire.
Salin’Roth believes all bonds weaken given time. Loyalty, faith, even love are only waiting to fail. He does not force their collapse; he simply waits, whispering until the fracture reveals itself.
Where others crave devotion, Salin’Roth feeds on doubt. Every broken oath, every turning blade, every war fought for reasons long forgotten swells his power.
Disease, Spirits, Betrayal, and War are Salin’Roth’s harvest. From every battlefield and plague-ridden city, souls are shaken loose, and he feeds upon what conflict leaves behind.
- Warmongers who profit from endless conflict.
- Plague-bearers and corrupters who see decay as opportunity.
- Spirits and whisperers who thrive in the spaces between loyalty and fear.
Aelor is the youngest of the ten, and yet he still carries more weight than most.
Where the others drift toward excess, he pulls them back into line.
Justice, Honor, Courage are not ideals to him. They are habits. He taught the world that conflict and fear are unavoidable, but they do not have to rule you.
Warriors who still care who they become after the battle is over.
Those who try to judge fairly, even when the outcome may seem obvious.
People who simply refuse to let fear decide their actions.
Write a short 2–6 line lore blurb here.
Write a short 2–6 line lore blurb here.
Write a short 2–6 line lore blurb here.