An optional pantheon of deities for your fantasy setting.

"Oh, yes, I know of him. That half-mad disciple of the Storm, you'd never think he was dangerous to look at him - until he pulls out those twin blades of his and screams in his high voice 'Blood for the Storm God!' - you wouldn't think a pixie could make your blood go cold like that."

-Anatos One-Eye, speaking of Raziel of the Crimson Storm

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!

Who said Medusa are evil?

"Let death be not only merciful, but elegant."

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.

Pray that your loneliness may spur you into finding something to live for, great enough to die for.

The Book of Hammerskjold

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!

Doyenne Unson

Age is a terrible weight

They are two sides of the same coin-either one will kill you, they'll just think about it differently.

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.

This naïve young man was fostered among the warlike Knights of the Most Holy Order of Saint Senren. Cloistered most of his life, he knows little of the world.

The Gohhi tribesmen of the Sallvian desert preserve the worship of an ancient goddess...

Driven by a lifetime of anger, Modest Slatterbite and his “Staff of Truth” have come to condemn the “wicked”.