Once, long ago, Goge was a proud and regal figure - the very image of a valiant warlord, with richly bronzed skin, a powerfully muscled frame, and clothing crafted from the hide of one the legendary Far Dragons he slew when it tried to destroy the Isle of the Divine in the Age of Calamity. Bearing his weapon - said to be a spear forged from the light of the first dawn - he was perhaps one of the most revered and noble of the Old Gods.
No more. Goge, Lord of Slaughter, is a thing of cackling madness and frothing rage, his body emaciated by his terrible cannibalistic hunger and his once-noble garb hanging in filthy rags about him; lank, greasy black hair hangs over his face, tangling in his spittle-flecked beard as his eyes blaze with the light of his foul needs. Bound within the Rift of Broken Souls with glistening manacles forged from the bones of those he slew the day he fell, he constantly howls and throws himself against his chains, striking fountains of sparks from the walls of his prison and lighting the fires of the northern lights as he fights to be free and feed his mad hunger.
Goge was one of the first gods born to the Great Mother, a warrior from the moment of his birth as he seized the light of the first day and, with the aid of his elder brother Koriel, god of chaos, forged it into a luminous spear with which to defend the Isle of the Divine from any foes who would threaten it. When the Age of Calamity struck, breaking the world into the True Land and the Far Reaches, it was Goge who defeated the terrible monstrosities from across the divide that threatened the Isle of the Divine. When the Age of Mortals dawned, Goge was the one who taught each the noble arts of combat and fortification. When Valeras, the foul Lord of Vengeance, rose up and conquered the southern lands, Goge took it upon himself to lead the vanguard of the armies that struck against his fallen sibling’s stronghold.
Thus it was that Goge was the first to meet Valeras on the battlefield, and thus it was that Valeras took his terrible vengeance against the noble god of war. In the battle to destroy Valeras, Goge was struck by both of the mad god’s terrible stingers, delivering their virulent poison in such quantity that any other being might have fallen dead on the spot, consumed by the hate and fury the toxin held. Goge lived, his divine form too strong to perish, but the God of War died that day. After Koriel struck the fatal blow to Valeras in the depths of his lair, the other gods returned to the field of battle to find Goge frothing amid a welter of blood and carnage, his spear forgotten on the ground as he tore apart enemy and ally alike, tearing grisly bites from the raw, blood-drenched wreckage. The vile poison Valeras had filled Goge with had reduced the god to a mad cannibalistic fury, such that he no longer recognized anything but his own terrible hunger.
Koriel again struck down his sibling, but even as Goge had been too strong to be slain by the poison, so was he too strong to die with the spear of chaos pinning him to the ground. The remaining Old Gods took the remains of the fallen as Koriel grimly held his fallen brother to the ground, forging manacles and chains to bind him with from the ruined bones and bodies, binding the spirits of Goge’s victims to keep the fallen one confined.
Thus it was that Koriel finally released Goge from the spear he had used to strike down Valeras when the chains were secured to the deepest walls of the Rift of Broken souls, and the first sparks arose from the chains, fragments of the binding souls shattered away and set alight to burn the skies. Thus do the eldest and wisest keep an eye on the northern lights, dreading the day the burning flames in the sky go out - the day when the last soul binding Goge is destroyed, and the mad god of slaughter will stalk the land to feed his endless hunger.
Once, Goge had the legendary Spear of the Dawn, a weapon whose cutting edge was said to be so sharp that anything duller than the light it was forged from will be effortlessly cleaved. Of it, nothing is said after the battle to destroy Valeras, and it may yet lie on the field of the ancient battle, nestled amid the ancient wreckage of the forsaken plain.
Now, the only thing Goge has of value are the manacles which bind him - eternally glistening with fresh blood, the links made of flawless ivory-white bone and wrapped with the crackling energy of the souls bound to the chains, tasked with keeping the God of Slaughter bound in his prison. As the shackles and chains crash against the dark walls of the Rift of Broken Souls, flecks of soul-fire erupt from them, bits and fragments of those ancient souls no longer able to maintain their strength against the mad god’s eternal fury. The flecks form a raging inferno within the rift itself, and the gouts which leap skyward are what keeps the northern lights aflame.
Goge is a mad god, sunken into depravity and rage that may well outstrip his foul brother Valeras. He lives only for his hunger, seeking always to rip and tear anything before him that he might feast on it. Even in the momentary calms when he collapses in brief exhaustion, there are no more than a few scattered fragments of the mind of the god of war adrift in the depths of the god’s skull. If ever freed, he would no doubt begin to rip a bloody trail of ruin and wreckage across the world.
This is, in fact, Goge’s most likely use; the cult dedicated to restoring Valeras to life likely seeks the release and death of the Lord of Slaughter, that his toxin-corrupted soul might fuel the gruesome rebirth of Valeras.