A goddess with a holy object of veneration in every pocket, wallet and bank; as well as down the sides of the big comfy chair in the inn.
A dwarf's fear of the ocean is not baseless. In the unknowable depths lurks an evil that will punish any dwarf arrogant enough to be on anything less than solid land, and unfortunate enough to die.
A demon unleashed... to make the world a better place.
The Prophet John's life and, indeed, death was a mystery. Some say that the gods placed him on this earth for his purpose without a past, and others, a rare few, claim that he was a god himself.
Slumbering within a prison of ice and snow, adrift in the oceans of the north, Gundrak dreams without end.
Some of the gods worshipped in Teleleli and surrounding lands.
An optional pantheon of deities for your fantasy setting.
As the world grows and changes, so to do the gods. One such creature is Verdichtung, Reaver of Steam.
Scale and bone and tooth and claw,
All are symbols of His law
Mourn not the fallen, sick, or weak,
They are His to claim and His to keep!
The corrupted god of war, felled by the lost god of vengeance to his present pitiable state.
A contract Made before Durmenthir is a contract kept.
Blessed Yandrick, spare my herd from the Hoof Rot, and let the thieves and bandits seek elsewhere! Let my swine grow fat and strong, that they might be sold at market, so my children will have enough food this winter!
The Patron Saint of Beverages, Hang-Overs, Regrets
Cowardly maggots! Bow your thrice cursed heads and thank the goddess that you still draw unworthy breath!
In a world where it seems that even the smallest of ideals has a deity to call a patron, even bastards have a patron god to call their own.
Murderous prophet of a depraved cult, Corvius the Death-Haunted cursed the Empire with an ancient evil that has plagued its lands ever since.
Konelis Larach, St. Cornelius of Zarant. 26th Abbot of Zarant; eminence grise to Dominic the Great; author of the Annalia: monk, scholar, saint and martyr.
A nearly forgotten god of hatred, vengeance, death, and decay, whose priesthood seeks his violent rebirth.
Ye Olde English
Oblat - A soldier who, grown impotent or maimed in service, hath maintenance or the benefit of a monk’s place assigned him in an abbey
Herbalist in the group mistakes one plant for another and mistakenly poisons the group. Not to death, but pretty darn ill with recurring symptoms until the cause and cure are realized. (Local people may be able to help rather easily. "You ate Dragon's Rot you fool, looks and smells just like mint except it has these small thistles on the root. Only grow in the Hornwood Forest, that must be where ya got them. Eat this and you will feel better in 4 hours."