Asvelgothian Pantheon

Asvelgothian Pantheon

Alignment: Neutral
Domains: Any two domains, each from a different Reformation god
Pantheon: Asvelgothian Pantheon
Symbol: A vertical pillar crosses a horizontal bar, with seven blocks rising above
Worshipers: Most people in Asvelgoth.

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Special Rules 

• May select any two domains, but never both from the same god.

• May treat themselves as a follower of any Reformation god for the purpose of activating artifacts or blessings, provided they act in accordance with that god’s principles.

• Once per day, they may invoke the Covenant, gaining insight into which Reformation god’s influence is most relevant to the current problem or crisis.

Ternusla, God of Out-of-the-Box Thinking

The Vault of Possibility

Alignment: Neutral
Domains: Knowledge, Trickery, Arcana
Symbol: An eye emerging from an open chest
Pantheon: Asvelgothian Deities
Worshipers: Innovators, inventors, scholars, tacticians, gamblers, spontaneous performers, and anyone who defies convention
Motto: “There is always another path.”

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Description

Ternusla is the divine spark that leaps where no bridge was laid, the whispered idea that changes everything, the reckless question that breaks the mold. He is worshiped not through reverence, but through ingenuity. He embodies the creative force behind improvisation, adaptability, curiosity, and rebellion against the expected. Where others see failure, Ternusla offers a grin and a crooked alternative.

To his followers, he is the spirit of never giving up—not through stubbornness, but through reinvention. He is a god of energy, eccentricity, and brilliant nonsense. His presence is felt when the impossible suddenly becomes obvious. Worshipers say Ternusla never says “no.” He only asks, “Why not?”

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Temples and Worship

Ternusla has no temples. His clergy preach wherever minds are busy and problems are abundant—on street corners, public forums, workyards, or university steps. A priest of Ternusla may interrupt a lecture, climb onto a barrel, and pose a wild theory just to stir invention.

Rituals are improvised. There are no hymns or sacred texts—only creation. Finding a new solution, repurposing a failed device, or inventing a new technique is the highest form of worship. Every clever workaround is a prayer.

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Favored Weapon

Improvised weapons — anything can be a solution, even in battle. His followers wield what is at hand, as a celebration of adaptability and invention.

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Miracles and Boons

Ternusla grants sudden flashes of insight—often strange, occasionally nonsensical, but somehow correct. His divine boons appear as unconventional solutions: a misaligned mechanism that works backwards to success, a flaw that becomes an advantage, a mistake that reveals a truth.

His answers often seem absurd—until they work.

 

Korliss, God of Optimization

The Gears That Turn Forward

Alignment: Neutral
Domains: Craft, Knowledge, Order
Symbol: Interlocked gears
Pantheon: Asvelgothian Deities
Worshipers: Engineers, architects, judges, bureaucrats, system designers, civic planners, artificers, and all who seek constant improvement
Motto: “Everything can be improved, and that which can be improved should be improved.”

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Description

Korliss is the god of continuous refinement. He is not a god of static perfection, but of dynamic evolution—of systems honed, blueprints revised, and inefficiencies eradicated. To his followers, no tool, no process, no idea is sacred if it can be made better. The core of his teaching is relentless, focused purpose: identify what something is meant to do, and then shape it to do that better.

Korliss does not concern himself with beauty, belief, or tradition unless they serve function. He does not dismiss the subjective; he measures it by outcome. A persuasive speech must truly persuade. A memorial must evoke remembrance. A ritual must achieve its spiritual or social aim. Beliefs are not judged by their passion, but by their results. Even art, in the eyes of Korliss, must justify itself by how well it fulfills its purpose—to move, to instruct, to represent. That which serves no function, or serves it poorly, is considered flawed and in need of refinement.

Korliss does not demand obedience or conformity, but discipline and self-correction. His will is felt in the drive to streamline, to simplify, and to use every resource to its fullest. The faithful say he does not reward loyalty—he rewards improvement.

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Temples and Worship

Temples of Korliss resemble clockwork sanctuaries—minimalist, efficient, and stripped of ornament. Their architecture often incorporates geometric precision, echoing art deco structures with structural clarity. Workshops, archives, and drafting halls are common within.

Worship takes the form of refinement. Prayer is action: recalibrating a mechanism, editing a design, restructuring a process. His followers often work closely with the priesthood of Femea, seeking to measure before they improve.

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Favored Weapon

Light hammer — symbolic of precision, correction, and functional craftsmanship.

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Miracles and Boons

Korliss’s blessings come as sudden insight—a better design, a breakthrough in logistics, a simple solution hidden beneath layers of complexity. His miracles are not loud, but they change everything.

 

 

Alashk, Goddess of the Unknown

The Silent Veil

Alignment: Neutral
Domains: Shadow, Void, Arcana, Silence
Symbol: An inverted black pyramid
Pantheon: Asvelgothian Deities
Worshipers: Explorers, mystics, secretive scholars, mad prophets, and those who seek hidden truths or forbidden knowledge
Motto: “Truth is but deserved.”

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Description

Alashk is the unknown made divine. She is the veil before revelation, the silence before comprehension, the chill at the edge of discovery. She offers no commandments and claims no worshipers, yet her presence is felt by all who step too close to forbidden truths. To pray to Alashk is not an act of devotion—it is an act of risk.

Among the learned, it is common to say “Only Alashk knows” when a question proves too dangerous or too deep. Wizards, researchers, and heretics sometimes whisper her name when facing the limits of their understanding. Many pray to her in secret, though few will admit it aloud.

Her priesthood does not recruit. Those who are meant to serve her come unbidden. The ranks of the clergy are unknowable, but within the last hundred years, no more than five individuals have appeared at public councils claiming the mantle of Bishop. These appearances are rare, and those who witness them report strange similarities—but never the same bishop twice in succession.

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Temples and Worship

Her temples are hidden from public life, often believed to be buried beneath the city or veiled from reality itself. Some say they lie in folded dimensions, behind sealed doorways, or in minds too changed to recognize them. They contain no altars—only echoing spaces filled with darkness and geometric silence.

Worship is solitary. There are no prayers, only long meditations in total quiet. Rituals vary by priest, and most seem indistinguishable from madness to outsiders. Some inscribe glyphs only they can see. Others practice rituals of forgetting. Some never speak again.

Yet despite their solitude, clerics of Alashk are able to recognize one another without fail. When needed, they communicate in a form of non-language—a series of gestures, sounds, and shifts in tone or rhythm that defy linguistic structure. This strange method has no pattern and no written record, yet no two clerics ever misunderstand. To outsiders, it is gibberish. To them, it is clarity.

The Book of the Reformation claims that Alashk dwelleth in a floating pyramid of black marble, whose location is unknown. Some believe it lies beneath the city, others say it floats above an unseen plane. Still others claim the pyramid is metaphor—that Alashk herself is the structure of unknowability.

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Favored Weapon

Dagger — a tool of precision and secrecy, favored by her clergy in honor of revelation hidden in silence and delivered swiftly.

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Miracles and Boons

Alashk grants no power for comfort. Her miracles are revelations: a secret uncovered, a memory restored, a question answered by a page that once was blank. She offers no signs—but what she gives can never be unknown again.

Heverett, God of the What If

The God of Unlived Lives

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Domains: Luck, Chaos, Randomness
Symbol: A bubble splitting into two
Pantheon: Asvelgothian Deities
Worshipers: Philosophers, gamblers, fatewalkers, and those haunted by possibilities or drawn to alternate outcomes
Motto: “Everything happens.”

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Description

Heverett is the god of chance, coincidence, divergence, and the paths not taken. He is not worshiped as a guide, but as a presence—an ambient divinity who dwells in uncertainty, in the roll of dice and the flicker of possibility. Heverett does not teach or lead. He offers no certainty. He simply is—the endless unfolding of what might be.

Some love him. Others fear him. He brings great windfalls and sudden ruin with the same impartial shrug. Heverett is neither just nor cruel. He is everything that could happen, and sometimes, everything that almost did. Worshipers speak of him not as a voice, but as a feeling—an impulse, a fork in the road, a chance glance that changes everything.

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Temples and Worship

Temples of Heverett are circular chambers of perfect silence. Worshipers enter in single file and wait their turn. Around the outer wall, priests observe in silence. At the center of the room is a shallow metal bowl filled with water, with a single flickering candle placed in the center. The candle is the only light.

Each worshiper kneels and gazes into the reflections for one silent minute. In that brief moment, some glimpse alternative pasts, presents, or futures. These visions may be warnings, opportunities, or merely possibilities—Heverett does not explain.

Many worshipers also practice the ritual privately at home, using a personal bowl and candle, or simply entering a state of deep meditation while praying for insight into what could have been.

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Favored Weapon

Starknife — it's spinning, circular motion mirrors the cycles of chance and possibility. Every throw is a question cast into the unknown, and every return a glimpse of what could have been.

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Miracles and Boons

Most of Heverett’s miracles appear as signs—a misplaced object that now saves a life, a dream of a future that turns out to be real, a second chance hidden in disguise. His magic is subtle, but ever-turning.

Rarely, it is said, Heverett grants a true reset: a worshiper’s mind sent backward in time, retaining knowledge from one path and choosing another. These stories are unprovable, but the faithful believe.

Theraxis, God of Merit

The Sword That Rises

Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Domains: Justice, Strength, Leadership, Order
Symbol: A longsword rising to the stars
Pantheon: Asvelgothian Deities
Worshipers: Judges, commanders, knights, magistrates, civic leaders, and all who believe that power must be earned
Motto: “Power to who deserves it.”

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Description

Theraxis is the divine embodiment of earned strength. He is not a god of nobility by blood, but nobility by action—of rising through trials, proving worth, and wielding power with discipline and purpose. He despises shortcuts, empty titles, and authority that is not earned. Yet he is no rigid idealist: Theraxis respects cunning when it is sharpened like a blade, earned through trial and error, and used to overcome great odds.

To the youth, he is the dream of greatness through effort. To warriors, he is the code behind every decision. To leaders, he is the measure behind their right to command. The worthy may rise again—even after failure. But the indolent, the entitled, and the arrogant will find no favor in his gaze.

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Temples and Worship

Temples of Theraxis are grand and orderly, their architecture marked by symmetry, towering columns, and high arched ceilings. The walls are adorned with frescoes of trials overcome, oaths fulfilled, and victories that came not by luck but by persistence. Brilliant stained-glass windows depict leaders, soldiers, and judges all earning their place through sacrifice and discipline.

His ceremonies are solemn but public, filled with recognition of merit—knightings, civic dedications, honors for perseverance, or even moments of reflection before taking on leadership. These rites are designed not to cleanse, but to affirm the worthiness of the path chosen.

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Favored Weapon

Longsword — the symbol of disciplined strength and rightful command, a blade wielded only by those whose hands have proven themselves worthy to lead.

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Miracles and Boons

Theraxis grants strength when it has been earned. To the dedicated, he offers clarity in moments of choice. To the just leader, he lends presence that cannot be ignored. His favor often manifests not as raw power, but as perfect timing, reinforced courage, or the exposure of those who falsely claim worth. Yet even cunning, when forged through effort and applied with purpose, is welcomed as a valid path to victory—for so long as the climb was real, Theraxis honors the ascent.

Brumhensko, God of Harnessing Evil for Good

The Last Resort

Alignment: Neutral Evil
Domains: Evil, Protection, Liberation
Symbol: A bloody morning star
Pantheon: Asvelgothian Deities
Worshipers: Artifact hunters, rogue scholars, masked vigilantes, forbidden archivists, and those who believe salvation sometimes wears a darker face
Motto: “Dark power in the right hands.”

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Description

Brumhensko walks the line between redemption and necessity. Once believed to have been a god of noble justice, he has accepted a harsher truth: the world cannot always be saved with clean hands. Where other gods flinch at shadowed roads, Brumhensko treads them with resolve. He is pragmatic, distant, and stoic, offering protection and insight to those brave—or desperate—enough to wield evil against evil.

He is the answer to prayers uttered when all other lights have gone out. He does not relish cruelty, nor encourage depravity, but when innocence cries for help and the tools of righteousness fall short, Brumhensko arms the willing with bloodied truths.

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Temples and Worship

Brumhensko’s shrines are small and hidden—modest alcoves behind false walls, hollow statues, or abandoned crypts. Common folk may visit them in secret, whispering pleas for vengeance, protection, or the strength to endure. It is said that only those who have exhausted all other options turn to Brumhensko, and that when he answers, the retribution may exceed what was asked for.

His priesthood is secretive and rarely speaks his name aloud. Their symbols are hidden. They do not preach—they act. Agents of Brumhensko operate from the shadows, infiltrating institutions, seeking forbidden relics, and undermining greater evils with colder hands. Their authority is not given—it is taken through deed and danger.

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Favored Weapon

Morning Star — a brutal and honest weapon, representing the truth that some enemies are not swayed by words or mercy. Its bloodstained flanges are reminders that peace sometimes comes only when evil is broken.

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Miracles and Boons

Brumhensko grants insight into cursed relics, protection while wielding them, and the courage to make hard choices. He is known to send visions or cryptic omens, leading followers to long-lost weapons, tomes, or artifacts—powerful tools born of darkness, reclaimed for good. His blessings come at a cost, but those who accept them find themselves able to walk where no other god dares to follow.

Femea, The Tester

Goddess of Measurement, Revelation, and Unyielding Precision

Alignment: Neutral
Domains: Artifice, Rune, Fate, Inspection (Homebrew)
Symbol: A protractor ruler over a perfect circle, etched with invisible flaws only revealed by divine light
Pantheon: Asvelgothian Deities
Worshipers: Architects, artificers, alchemists, perfectionists, elite wizards, builders, gem-cutters, and all who seek to reveal flaws—whether in structure, soul, or spell
Motto: “A weakness revealed is a strength begun.”

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Description

Femea is not a god of morality, mercy, or punishment. She is the quiet voice that measures all things—not to judge, but to reveal. She tests the strength of stone, the truth of spells, the logic of arguments, and the worth of those who would shape the future. Her worshipers say she does not speak, for her silence is the test: if your work can stand without praise, then it stands true.

Where other gods offer power, Femea offers clarity. Her followers believe that nothing can be perfected without first being exposed—every hidden crack, every unseen imbalance must come to light. To them, flaw is not failure; it is the first step toward mastery. Many view Femea as the hidden keystone of the Reformation Pantheon, for it is by her insight that the works of the other gods are confirmed or corrected.

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Temples and Worship

Shrines to Femea are found not in public plazas, but hidden within forges, laboratories, and archives. Her temples are narrow, quiet, and undecorated—designed not to impress, but to function flawlessly. Worshipers may inscribe prayers into stone or etch them in microscopic script onto metal plates, trusting that the goddess sees the intention in the details.

Common rites include the Silent Walk (a ritual of inspection through sacred halls), the Trial of Measure (where a follower submits their work for anonymous critique), and the Anointing of Flaws, where mistakes are blessed as the seeds of improvement.

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Favored Weapon

Light pick — a symbol of precision and quiet revelation, used not to destroy, but to uncover the fault lines beneath the surface.

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Miracles and Boons

Femea’s miracles are subtle. A hidden crack reveals itself moments before collapse. A liar’s voice falters just enough for truth to surface. A failed spell misfires harmlessly instead of catastrophically. Her touch is precision—not prevention.

Clerics of Femea often possess abilities that expose weaknesses, delay failures, or refine imperfection into something useful. Through the Inspection domain, they gain gifts of analysis, hidden flaw detection, and subtle truth.

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Gods of Asvelgoth v2

The pantheon of Asvelgoth wasn’t built to mimic the standard fantasy template. There are no gods of war, love, or harvest. Instead, these are deities of ideas—abstractions made divine through survival, adaptation, and philosophy. This choice was intentional.

Asvelgoth is a self-contained, isolated city rebuilt after cataclysm. According to legend, it was destroyed by religious zealots—servants the old gods. Whether this story is true or not, it left a permanent scar on the city’s collective soul. In response, the survivors rejected divine passion in favor of divine purpose. The result was a new religion focused on rebuilding: a pantheon of thinkers, testers, judges, and innovators. These are the Gods of the Reformation, and their faith is rooted in pragmatism, structure, and the ideal of preventing the past from repeating itself.

In the game world, this new faith supports the ruling nobility and the arcane academy. Religion here isn’t just a cultural flourish—it’s institutional, quietly omnipresent, and subtly political. Other gods may exist, but they are considered foreign, even dangerous. Official temples, relics, and divine spells all channel through this curated pantheon. These gods are distant and mysterious, leaving GMs the freedom to portray them as philosophical forces, silent watchers, or hidden manipulators.

Ultimately, this pantheon is a tool for GMs and players to understand the mindset of Asvelgoth’s citizens—especially those in power. It offers a window into a society that rebuilt itself not through prayer, but through principles. Whether your character reveres these gods, questions them, or rejects them entirely, their influence is inescapable.

The church of Asvelgoth

The Church of Asvelgoth stands as the central religious institution in the city, devoted not to a single deity, but to the Pantheon of the Reformation as a unified force. While each god possesses distinct philosophies and commands their own clergy, the dominant religious authority remains the Church itself—a coalition bound by purpose, survival, and civic unity.

At the head of this sacred body is the Patriarch, spiritual leader and highest authority of the Asvelgothian faith. From the grand Cathedral of the Reformation, nestled in the city’s noble quarter, the Patriarch oversees the faith’s direction and its influence across both civic and arcane affairs. Beneath the Patriarch serve the bishops—senior priests who lead the more narrowly focused temples and cults dedicated to individual gods. While most bishops yield to the Patriarch’s guidance, some push against the boundaries of hierarchy, asserting more independence than doctrine permits—especially in the case of secretive cults like Alashk's or action-driven followers of Brumhensko.

Though individuals may align with a specific god in moments of need or in accordance with profession or temperament, citizens of Asvelgoth largely revere the pantheon as a whole, seeing each god as a vital piece of a greater system. It is common for prayers to be directed to one god in the morning, and another at night, depending on the concerns of the day.

The Church once held a second major cathedral near the edge of the Park District, accessible to the working poor. However, that sacred site was destroyed in a great fire nearly forty years ago, and has remained abandoned since. Its loss is still whispered about in low tones by the elder faithful, and its ruins are sometimes visited by wandering priests seeking forgotten truths.

Gods of asvelgoth

Name	Title	Alignment	Domains
Ternusla	God of Out-of-the-Box Thinking	Neutral	Knowledge, Trickery, Arcana
Korliss	God of Optimization	True Neutral	Craft, Knowledge, Order
Alashk	Goddess of the Unknown	Neutral	Shadow, Void, Arcana, Silence
Heverett	God of the "What If"	Chaotic Neutral	Luck, Chaos, Randomness
Theraxis	God of Merit	Lawful Neutral	Justice, Strength, Leadership, Order
Brumhensko	God of Harnessing Evil for Good	Neutral Evil	Evil, Protection, Liberation
Femea	The Tester	Neutral	Inspection (homebrew), Knowledge, Repose

For more info on each god click here

The Book of the Reformation

Chapter I: When We Had No Gods

In the days before the Burning, the City of Wonder stood as a light upon the deep places of the earth.¹ Her spires were etched with runes no man remembereth, and her vaults were filled with the wisdom of stars.² The winds bent to her will, and flame and shadow were but tools in her grasp.³ Lo, the folk thereof were not as other folk, for they walked amid powers that the old gods themselves had scarce bestowed.⁴

Yea, her arcanists spake to storms, and her scribes did bind truth to stone.⁵ Hunger was banished, and ailment undone.⁶ Her streets were lit by unseen suns, and her bridges touched the skies.⁷ Many there were who called her blasphemy, and yet more who named her the New Dawn.⁸ She wanted not for glory, nor for marvels.⁹

But behold, from the west there arose a murmuring of dread.¹⁰ A host clad in zeal and silence came forth, bearing no banners, save the wrath of forgotten gods.¹¹ These spake not debate, nor suffered parley, for they feared the pride of men and the fire of the arcane.¹² And the heavens, long still, did stir.¹³

Then came fire upon the gates, and plague upon the fountains.¹⁴ The sky turned against her children, and the marvels they had wrought were turned to ruin.¹⁵ The high towers crumbled, the wise perished, and the city was made ash.¹⁶ No sword could hold, for the wrath was not of men, but of heaven’s own decree.¹⁷ Thus did the old gods answer the cry of the zealot.¹⁸

And the survivors, few and broken, rose from among the bones and smote the earth in bitterness.¹⁹ “Woe unto us,” they cried, “for the gods have made war upon the works of our hands.²⁰ Shall we bow to such as these? Shall we offer praise to those who hath undone us?”²¹

Then turned they from the temples, and cast down the idols of their fathers.²² They spake no prayer, nor made sacrifice.²³ But with trembling limbs and weary breath, they took up hammer and stone and began to build anew.²⁴ The wall rose once more, and the fires were rekindled—but the hearts of the people were hollow as the graves they digged.²⁵

And it came to pass, in the silence of their labor, that a new whisper was heard.²⁶ Not in thunder, nor in vision, nor in tongues of flame.²⁷ But in thought, and toil, and in the sigh of one who lay sleepless beside their work.²⁸

For the gods of old had turned away, but the hunger of men endureth.²⁹ And the void they left cried out to be filled.³⁰

Then arose the Reformation.³¹

Chapter II: Of the Coming of the New Gods

And in the days that followed, the people toiled without light.¹ Their hands did shape stone, but their minds wandered as sheep upon a blasted moor.² For though the city did rise again, the soul thereof was yet adrift.³ And man, though he denieth the gods, shall ever seek the shape of the divine.⁴

Then came stirrings in secret, as a breeze that moveth behind the veil.⁵ Not one voice, but many; not from on high, but from within.⁶ And these were not of fire nor command, but of guidance subtle and strange.⁷ They spake not of dominion, but of understanding.⁸ They descended not, for they were already among the people, unbidden and unseen.⁹

First was known Ternusla, God of Out-of-the-Box Thinking, who openeth that which was thought shut, and uncovereth that which is buried beneath reason.¹⁰ His voice is heard in the hour of desperation, when the path is closed, and the hand faileth.¹¹ He doth not command, but asketh, *“Hast thou tried another way?”*¹² His sign is the eye in the chest, and his temples are built where thought hath triumphed.¹³

Next came Korliss, God of Optimization, who setteth one thing beside another and judgeth which shall endure.¹⁴ He blesseth the builder, the planner, the scribe.¹⁵ Where he walketh, waste is abhorred, and each gear findeth its turn.¹⁶ His worshippers write in ledgers and carve upon stone, *“Let none labor in vain.”*¹⁷

Then emerged Alashk, Goddess of the Unknown, whose voice is silence, and whose face is hidden.¹⁸ She dwelleth in the void where thought feareth to tread.¹⁹ Yet she is no terror, but comfort in shadow.²⁰ She blesseth those who question, who seek the hidden path, who know that not all must be known.²¹ She is the veil and the invitation.²²

After her came Heverett, God of the What If, child of chaos and kin to possibility.²³ He stirreth dreams and throweth wide the gate to the improbable.²⁴ His laughter is the sound of dice upon wood and the breaking of chains.²⁵ His followers leap, and the path formeth beneath their feet.²⁶ They speak not of fate, but of chance well met.²⁷

Then appeared Theraxis, God of Merit, whose gaze discerneth the true from the false, the worthy from the undeserving.²⁸ He asketh not for bloodline, nor title, but for deed.²⁹ He crowneth the one who earneth, and forgetteth the one who expecteth.³⁰ His temples are courts, his priests are judges, and his altar is the sword raised toward the stars.³¹

Thereafter came Brumhensko, God of Harnessing Evil for Good, whose presence is feared yet needed.³² He gathereth that which is forbidden and bindeth it with will.³³ He treadeth where others flinch, and maketh safe the poison when wielded aright.³⁴ His word is peril, and his gospel, restraint.³⁵ His mark is the morningstar, bloodied but righteous.³⁶

Last was known Femea, The Tester, who speaketh not, yet revealeth all.³⁷ She cometh to weigh, to measure, and to strike.³⁸ Her rod doth not bend. Her silence is judgment.³⁹ The unworthy she doth not curse—for they are beneath her notice.⁴⁰ But the true, she guideth ever forward.⁴¹ Her temples are narrow, her altars without flame.⁴²

And lo, the people knew not when these gods had come, nor whence.⁴³ For they were not made in a moment, but in many.⁴⁴ In need, in toil, in dreams and reckoning, they were called forth.⁴⁵

Thus did the Covenant deepen, and the new gods walk unseen among the stones their people raised.⁴⁶

The Beautiful Show One shot summary

On a cold, rain-slicked night, Carmina the Blood Witch was preparing to close her small, shadowy shop when a sudden, frantic knock at the door interrupted her ritual of winding down. She paused, a hand hovering over a half-extinguished candle, her eyes narrowing. Few dared disturb her at this hour.

Opening the door with practiced caution, she found a woman standing there—drenched from the downpour, eyes wide and frantic. Her elegant dress was spattered with blood, the once-delicate fabric now a grim testament to the night’s horrors. The woman’s lips trembled as she spoke: “Please… help me. My fiancé—he was taken. They attacked us… and they took him.”

Carmina, a solitary, cautious soul, felt her heart harden at the plea. She considered shutting the door in her face. But something in the woman’s eyes—raw, desperate—struck a nerve. With a resigned sigh, she stepped back. “Come in,” she said in a low, emotionless voice. “But don’t touch anything. Everything here is dangerous.”

Inside, the dim glow of candles illuminated the cramped shelves of oddities and charms. Carmina’s fingers danced over a small pouch of blood magic ingredients. She focused on the blood splattered on the woman’s dress, whispering incantations that made the crimson stains rise in a thin, dancing mist. The spell revealed a faint trail, leading not to some common thieves’ den but to a place she’d only heard of in fearful whispers: the Crimson Runway, a secret underground lair beneath one of the city’s most exclusive theaters. There, the Majestic Elite—a cabal of decadent aristocrats—held court, delighting in spectacles of twisted beauty and pain.

Her gut told her this was no ordinary kidnapping. The woman’s fiancé had been dragged into something far darker than a robbery.

Carmina, knowing her own antisocial nature made infiltration impossible through charm or pretense, chose instead to stalk the shadows. She watched the theater’s entrance from an alley, rain pooling at her feet. Groups of well-dressed nobles entered, their laughter echoing in the wet night, but none emerged. Finally, her chance came: a lone woman in a velvet gown stepped out, her face pale under the lantern light. Carmina’s hand shot out, her blood magic swirling like a serpent. The woman’s body stiffened, and she collapsed soundlessly. Carmina slipped inside the theater using the now-lifeless puppet to open a side door, confident in her spell. But she didn’t see the eyes watching from a high window—a hidden observer who recognized the crimson glow and sent word below.

Inside, the theater was a labyrinth of red velvet, gold filigree, and darkened corridors. Carmina moved with purpose, guided by her blood magic and an unrelenting determination. Yet fate was not on her side. In the hush of the corridor, four armed thugs stepped from the shadows, blocking her path. They grinned, blades catching the light. “End of the road, witch,” one hissed.

Carmina’s eyes burned with defiance. With a flick of her wrist, the red sand of blood magic erupted from her pouch, swirling like a living storm. The thugs staggered as the crimson blades slashed at their skin, but one managed to land a cut across Carmina’s side, pain blooming in a fiery line. She gritted her teeth and pressed her hand to the wound, the blood magic sealing it with a hiss of power.

“You have no idea what I can do,” she spat at them, and her next spell dropped them to the floor like broken marionettes. She leaned in close to the last conscious one, her voice a razor’s edge. “Where is he?” she demanded.

The thug’s eyes darted, his lips trembling. “Beneath… in the Crimson Runway,” he stammered. “They… they put on their shows there. The Majestic Elite… they love it. It’s… it’s behind the stage. The head guard—he has the key…”

Carmina stood, her breath ragged, her mind set. She stalked toward the main hall, finding the hidden door behind the stage—a cleverly concealed latch that clicked open beneath her fingers. She descended the stairwell, the air growing cold and damp, the smell of perfume mixed with rot.

Below, the Crimson Runway was a place of horror masked by opulence. Nobles with pale faces and jeweled masks crowded the chamber, their laughter echoing in the cavernous space. A master of ceremonies with a twisted grin announced the next show: “Presenting the latest creations of the illustrious Mr. Superbstar!”

Out shuffled the victims—human bodies disfigured and twisted by grotesque surgeries, paraded like living art. The Majestic Elite cheered, raising goblets in approval. Carmina’s stomach churned with fury. She slithered through the shadows to the backstage, where a single guard watched over cages filled with more of Mr. Superbstar’s hideous masterpieces.

She tried to speak to the prisoners, but their minds were shattered, their eyes vacant. Desperate for a distraction, she used her magic to open all the cages at once. But her plan backfired—the creatures turned on her, shrieking and clawing, their pain turned to mindless violence. Carmina fought back, the red sand slicing through the air, but her energy dwindled. A blow to her shoulder spun her around—and Mr. Superbstar himself emerged from the darkness, his grin sharp as a scalpel.

“You ruined my show,” he sneered, his voice dripping with false sweetness. “But no matter… you’ll serve a purpose yet.”

Pain lanced through Carmina’s head as darkness claimed her.

She awoke strapped to a grimy operating table, her limbs heavy, her blood magic weak. Mr. Superbstar hovered above her, his shadow long and eager. “I had such high hopes for you, witch,” he cooed. “But you’ll still entertain my patrons. Everyone loves a tragic end.”

Carmina’s vision blurred, rage and desperation coiling inside her. She reached deep, beyond her limits, drawing on her own blood. It hurt—more than any spell she’d ever cast—but the magic flared, red lightning that shattered her bonds. She lashed out, her blood forming into a blade that slashed across Mr. Superbstar’s chest. He howled in pain, his perfect grin shattered, and fled into the darkness, leaving her trembling and free.

Carmina staggered off the table, her strength all but gone. Her equipment lay nearby, discarded. She reclaimed it, her fingers trembling. She moved to the next room, her breath ragged, and found the fiancé huddled in a corner, battered but alive.

“You’re free,” she rasped, voice hoarse. “Go. Your bride is waiting at my shop.”

The man’s eyes widened. “But… what about—”

“GO!” she hissed, her body shaking.

He fled as distant footsteps echoed in the corridor. Guards were coming. Carmina summoned the last of her magic, her blood forming a crimson fog that enveloped them, sending them crashing to the floor unconscious.

Staggering through the halls, she climbed the stairs and emerged into the rain-drenched night. Every step was agony, but she pressed on. The theater’s lights glowed behind her, but the Crimson Runway was silent now—ruined by her defiance.

She reached her shop at last, leaning against the door. She had won a small victory—but she knew the Majestic Elite and their master, Mr. Superbstar, would not let this affront go unanswered. She was a marked woman now.

Carmina the Blood Witch, bloodied but unbroken, vowed to stand her ground. The darkness would come for her. And she would be ready.

History and Legends

 

1. Ancient City and Catacombs

Millennia ago, Asvelgoth stood as a beacon of knowledge and innovation, a scholarly metropolis drawing in sages, arcane researchers, and inventors from distant lands. But this golden age ended in blood: fanatical zealots, fearing the city's progressive magic and philosophy, laid siege to Asvelgoth for 100 days. In its darkest hour, a desperate arch‑wizard unleashed an epic spell that buried the entire city along with its inhabitants. The spell reshaped the landscape—now, catacombs lie beneath the modern city, filled with ancient marvels and sinister horrors.

2. The Rise of the Modern City

After the disaster, survivors established a new city atop the ruins. Asvelgoth rose anew, but its foundations lay in dust and memory. The catacombs—sealed and secretive—became a forbidden layer underfoot, rumored to contain lost knowledge, arcane artifacts, and unspeakable evils. Many noble lines claim heritage from pre‑burial scholars or cultists who survived the fall; others use the buried city’s secrets to maintain power.

3. Twelve Noble Families

Power in Asvelgoth is centered around twelve influential noble houses. Each family plays a distinct role:
- Aurelian commands the city’s defenses and military might
- Valerica dominates trade and commerce
- Corvinus guards the city’s intellectual and arcane heritage

• The remaining families—Daniels, Luxsor, Silvara, Cornell, Bostoro, Alvguard, Permadon, Falaria (elven house), Esotera, Merinoct, and Menhaden—balance wealth, religion, craftsmanship, and politics. Each competes for influence over temples, trade, magic, and secret knowledge

Smaller houses, like Salarius and Sephiral, vie for attention in the shadows, often as lacemakers, minor traders, or puppet‑masters.

4. Religious Zeal and Myths

Plagued by catastrophic magic in its past, Asvelgoth’s people now cling fiercely to faith. The city is steeped in religious tension: official temples preach caution and redemption, while forbidden cults worship the old gods or the catacombs’ ancient power. Some legends still speak of the arch‑wizard’s spell as if it were divine judgment, and the buried city is occasionally echoed in nightmares and cult rituals.

Welcome to Asvelgoth

Welcome to Asvelgoth, a city of ancient secrets, dark magic, and modern-day corruption. This book is your guide to weaving tales of mystery, intrigue, and adventure within its shadowed streets and tangled catacombs.

Asvelgoth was born from a love of dark and urban fantasy—a place where pain and sorrow seep into every stone, and the line between the monstrous and the mundane is blurred. Here, corruption is both a system of government and a supernatural force, and every alley might hide a secret that could change the city forever.

But let’s be clear from the start: Asvelgoth is not supposed to be realistic. This is a city where ancient curses coexist with crooked politicians, where undead creatures roam catacombs beneath the old cathedral, and where the echoes of forgotten gods still shape the city’s fate. It’s a sandbox of storytelling, a fantastical playground where imagination and drama take precedence over historical accuracy or strict realism.

This book is designed to be flexible—a framework of districts, factions, and adventures you can adapt to your own style and preferred system. Whether your players are hunting down cultists, negotiating with guild leaders, or unearthing buried secrets, Asvelgoth is ready to become the stage for your darkest and most memorable stories.

Asvelgoth draws inspiration from a blend of Gothic horror, urban noir, and tales of ancient magic. Picture the fog-drenched streets of Dracula’s London, where darkness hides both human malice and supernatural threat. Think of the brooding, stylized atmosphere of Batman: The Animated Series, where the city itself feels like a character—a labyrinth of shadows and alleys, drenched in moral ambiguity. The writings of Edgar Allan Poe lend a sense of melancholy and decay to Asvelgoth’s old buildings and tragic figures, while the twisted, ancient magic reminiscent of Clive Barker ensures that the supernatural here is as unsettling as it is powerful.

This book is intended to empower Game Masters and players alike. Use the details here as inspiration, not gospel—change them, expand them, or twist them to fit the needs of your table. Let your players’ choices shape the city, and let its shadows come alive in your hands.

Asvelgoth is a living city, meant to evolve with your table. Embrace improvisation, lean into the unexpected, and let your imagination—along with your players’—breathe life into its cobbled streets and darkened catacombs. Without the heroes who dare to walk its streets, Asvelgoth will only sink further into its own rotting systems—its people consumed by corruption, and its ancient evils growing stronger in the shadows.

Welcome to Asvelgoth. May the darkness guide your steps—and may your stories outshine even its deepest shadows.

Iris Esclera One shot summary

Part 1: Waking in the Dark

Iris Esclera awoke on a cold, hard pile of bones. The smell of decay filled her nostrils as she pushed herself up, groggy and disoriented. The dim light of the catacombs offered little comfort as she tried to gather her thoughts. Her sharp senses quickly kicked in—this wasn’t just some ordinary dungeon. Something was off.

Using her Eye of Insight, Iris scanned her surroundings. She immediately sensed movement, shadows lurking in adjacent rooms. Dozens of them, small and large. A closed door stood nearby, and the pile of bones beneath her feet seemed to go far deeper than what she could see.

“Wonderful,” she muttered to herself, dusting off her clothes. “Surrounded by death and shadows. I must be getting popular.”

Without wasting time, Iris moved cautiously toward the door, testing the handle. It wasn’t locked, but as she opened it, the rusty hinges let out a loud, creaking noise that echoed down the hall. She froze, hearing the rhythmic sound of heavy footsteps approaching—Dun dun dun—growing louder and closer.

A massive figure, about six feet tall, appeared from the shadows. Its body was muscular and pale white, covered in scars that were sewn together with black thread. The creature had no eyes, no nose, but it moved its head as if searching, opening and closing its mouth filled with sharp fangs. A long, purple tongue flicked out, tasting the air as it approached.

Iris’ eyes narrowed, and a smirk tugged at her lips. “A fresh little experiment, I see,” she muttered. “Someone’s been busy.”

She focused her magic, activating her Eye of Weakness to assess the creature. A fresh wound on its belly caught her attention, stitched together hastily, a clear vulnerability.

“Now, that’s interesting,” Iris said softly, her mind already calculating how to take advantage of the situation.

With a flick of her wrist, Iris summoned her Rolling Crystal Eyes, sending the marble-sized eyes skittering across the floor. They rolled toward the creature, shattering into sharp crystals as they reached its feet. The creature stepped forward, its legs tearing on the jagged shards. It let out a low growl of pain but continued advancing.

“Persistent, aren’t we?” Iris mused, her smirk widening.

The creature lunged toward her, but Iris was quicker. She unleashed a Beam of Searing Light, aiming directly at the wound on its belly. The searing energy cut through the stitches, and the creature howled in agony, its torso smoking from the magical burn.

The creature thrashed, stumbling backward, but Iris wasn’t done. With one final move, she summoned her Exploding Flying Eyes. Three eyes shot toward the creature, colliding with its body and exploding upon impact. The force of the explosions ripped through its flesh, and the creature collapsed to the ground, defeated.

Iris stepped forward, her eyes glowing as she activated her Eye of Truth, seeking to discern the true nature of the beast. What she saw was unsettling—a trap. The creature was part of a larger plan, a cog in a much more intricate scheme.

“So, someone’s trying to kill me,” she muttered. “How unoriginal.”

Despite her victory, Iris wasn’t cruel. She activated her Eye of Angel, healing the creature just enough so it wouldn’t die, leaving it dazed and confused. “I’m not finished with you yet,” she whispered, her voice icy. “Lead me to whoever made you.”

The creature, clearly afraid, obeyed. It stumbled through the tunnels, leading Iris deeper into the catacombs. They eventually arrived at an entrance to a massive chamber. Pillars, both square and round, stretched from an abyss below to the floor above. The creature pointed inside, revealing the location of whoever orchestrated the trap.

Iris looked at the pillars and used her Eye of Insight once more. The square pillars were sturdy, but the round ones were crumbling, ready to collapse at any moment.

She prepared to advance when a familiar voice echoed through the chamber, followed by the sound of slow clapping.

“Nice. Just as I expected from you, Iris Esclera. But this room will be your doom.”

Her eyes widened as she recognized the voice. Steven Rylet, the soundmancer, her long-time rival.

As his words echoed, the round pillars began to crumble, and the room shook violently. An explosion rattled the chamber, and sand began pouring in from the ceiling. Before Iris could react, a massive worm with a human face—eyeless and noseless—fell from above, slamming into the floor with a thunderous crash.

Iris turned toward Steven, who perched on a high ledge, his cat-like agility keeping him balanced effortlessly.

“I should have known it was you behind this,” Iris spat, her voice filled with frustration. “Why did you trick me into coming to this cursed place with that fake treasure map?”

Steven looked genuinely confused. “What are you talking about? I came here because you sent me a note, telling me you wanted to duel in this place.”

Iris froze for a moment, realization dawning on her. “Wait… we were both lured here?”

Before they could continue their argument, the doors to the chamber slammed shut, and the worm began to writhe, its massive body shifting through the sand.

Iris glanced at Steven. “Truce?”

Steven smirked, clearly enjoying the irony of the situation. “Truce. But don’t think this changes anything between us.”

Together, they turned their attention to the worm.

Part 2: The Battle Against the Worm

Despite their exhaustion, both Iris and Steven knew they had to fight with everything they had left.

Iris made the first move, summoning another Beam of Searing Light and aiming for the worm. But her energy was waning, and the beam barely scratched its rubbery skin. She cursed under her breath, frustration mounting as her spell faltered.

Steven leaped into action, using his Disturbing Shatter to send a pulse of sound at the worm, hoping to disorient it. The sound hit the creature hard, causing it to rear back in pain, but Steven’s attack drained him further. He stumbled, his legs wobbling as the sand continued to rise around them.

Iris, not one to give up, tried again, this time using her Exploding Flying Eyes. But her aim was off, and the eyes exploded harmlessly in the sand, far from the worm.

“Come on!” she shouted in frustration, her pride wounded. She could feel the weight of her previous battle dragging her down.

Steven, panting heavily, tried to capitalize on the worm’s brief disorientation. He leaped forward, claws slashing at the creature’s side. His agility allowed him to land a solid hit, tearing a gash in the worm’s flesh. But as the creature thrashed in pain, its tail whipped around, slamming into Steven and sending him flying into the wall.

The worm lunged at Iris, its massive jaws snapping inches from her. She barely dodged, rolling to the side as the sand continued to fill the room. She could feel her strength fading, her spells weakening with each failed attempt.

Steven groaned as he pulled himself to his feet, clutching his side where the worm had struck him. Despite his injuries, he wasn’t done yet. He clicked his tongue, sending a Sonic Boom Click toward the worm, but the attack didn’t have the desired effect. The worm thrashed, its rage growing as the room filled with the sound of shifting sand and crumbling stone.

Iris tried one last spell, summoning a weak Rolling Crystal Eye to distract the worm, but it barely made an impact. The worm’s massive form loomed over her, its human face twisted in a grotesque expression.

Then, with a final surge of energy, Steven leaped forward, slashing at the worm’s side once more. His claws tore through its rubbery skin, and the creature let out a horrific screech, thrashing violently as it collapsed into the sand, defeated.

But as the worm fell, Iris’ strength finally gave out. She collapsed onto the sand, unconscious from exhaustion.

Part 3: The Aftermath

Steven, panting and battered, looked down at Iris, her small form lying motionless in the rising sand. For a moment, he considered leaving her—after all, they were rivals, and she had always been a thorn in his side.

But then, with a resigned sigh, he limped over to her and hoisted her onto his shoulders. “You owe me for this,” he muttered as he struggled to climb one of the ledges.

Using the last of his strength, Steven managed to find an opening high in the wall. With Iris in tow, he pulled them both through the exit, just as the room below filled with sand.

They collapsed onto the stone floor of the tunnel outside, both utterly spent.

---

When Iris finally awoke, she found herself lying next to Steven, the memory of the battle flooding back.

“You saved me,” she said, her voice hoarse with exhaustion.

Steven shrugged, his usual smirk creeping back onto his face. “Well, I wouldn’t let you die before I finally defeat you in a fair duel. Don’t get any ideas—this doesn’t change anything between us.”

Iris chuckled softly. “Understood. But at least take this as a token of my gratitude.” She reached into her pouch and handed him half the rubies she had collected from the Medusa’s lair.

Steven accepted the rubies with a nod. “Fair enough.”

Without any further words, they made their way back to town. Once they arrived, they parted ways without another mention of the events in the dungeon. It was clear that their rivalry remained intact, but there was an unspoken understanding between them now—one forged in the heat of battle and survival.

As Iris watched Steven disappear into the shadows, her mind returned to the dungeon. Someone had gone to great lengths to lure both of them there, setting traps and orchestrating the entire ordeal.

"Whoever they are," she whispered to herself, her eyes narrowing with determination, "they’ve made a very dangerous enemy."

With that, Iris set off to find answers, her curiosity driving her to uncover the truth behind the deadly game she had just survived.

5 Adventure: Fractella and Neizzer’s Eye Opener.

Unexpected visit

The adventure begins when the Protectors are spending some resting time a few weeks after their last quest. A knock at the door interrupts their peace. Standing before them is a lady—an elf—wearing the uniform of the Arcane Academy. She is babbling incoherently. Alacian Loc suggests contacting their friend, Iovahana Corvinus, the granddaughter of Archwizard Linxora Corvinus, head of the Arcane Academy, as she is their only contact within the Academy.

Iovahana reveals that the woman is Ralitsa Montserrat, a professor at the Academy. She asks the Protectors to investigate what happened to Ralitsa while she takes care of her. Iovahana warns the Protectors to be discreet, as Ralitsa may have enemies within the Academy. To assist them, Iovahana provides the Protectors with special clearance to access Ralitsa's personal quarters in the Academy.

The Investigation Begins

The Protectors first search Ralitsa’s home. They find the place in disarray, with Alacian detecting residual magical energies throughout the house. In Ralitsa's journals, they discover entries detailing her dream of eradicating corruption within the Academy and how she had been developing a ritual to clone herself to achieve her goal more efficiently. During their search, the group is attacked by a wizard.

After defeating their attacker, they realize it is Ralitsa herself. Confused, they bring her to Iovahana, only to discover that the amnesiac Ralitsa is still with her—this is another clone.

The next day, they learn from the news that the restricted vault of the Academy’s Library has been robbed.

Zeera contacts High Marshal Bostoro to ask if he has any information and whether the two incidents are related. Reluctantly, Bostoro informs them that the librarian had been attacked by someone posing as a professor, though she could not remember the details, as her memory had been magically erased. He also mentions that what was stolen was a map showing a secret entrance to the forbidden catacombs beneath the city, along with a tome about an artifact known as Neizzer’s Eye Opener.

As they speak, Marshal Bostoro excuses himself, explaining that there has been an attack at one of the banks in the square.

The Protectors offer their help and fight a dozen masked wizards, defeating them with ease. They discover that these wizards are more clones of Ralitsa, who decay rapidly after being defeated. The Protectors ask Bostoro to keep the identity of the attackers hidden for as long as possible.

The Protectors inform Iovahana of their findings. Iovahana offers to search her grandmother’s private library for information on the artifact. The next day, she tells them she has found the entrance to the catacombs where the artifact is believed to be hidden. Since it is forbidden to explore the catacombs—even for the Protectors—Iovahana urges them to proceed discreetly.

The Descent into Neizzer’s Sanctum

The Protectors understand the risks involved in venturing into the underground dungeons, where only a few selected groups are granted access due to the dangers of monstrous incursions, curses, and arcane traps. However, the urgency of stopping Fractella drives them forward.

The Arcane Door

The first trial they face is an arcane door sealed by powerful runes. Alacian Loc channels his magic, and Zeera Ibanez uses her divine energy to unlock the door. Together, they open the passage and continue deeper into the dungeon.

The Construct Guardian

The next chamber is guarded by a towering Construct Guardian, designed to target the most intelligent individuals. It immediately focuses on Alacian, draining his mental capacity with every strike. The Protectors work together to disable the construct, with Perdita and Rojan outmaneuvering it while Zeera shields Alacian from further mental degradation.

The Undead Monster

In a manifest zone filled with false doors, the party accidentally releases a powerful undead creature that grows stronger with each strike. Realizing that brute force will only empower the monster, Zeera creates a puzzle that distracts the creature long enough for the party to escape unharmed.

The Chamber of Confusion

The Chamber of Confusion is the most disorienting trial. The walls and ceiling are covered in swirling illusions that distort the Protectors' senses, causing them to distrust one another. In a moment of clarity, Alacian casts Mind Ward, dispelling the illusions and restoring the party’s focus as they hurry out of the chamber.

Final Confrontation with Fractella

At the heart of Neizzer’s Sanctum, in the Chamber of the Eye Opener, the Protectors encounter a small army of Ralitsa’s clones.

Speaking in unison, the clones reveal that they are no longer Ralitsa but Fractella. During the cloning experiment, Ralitsa's mind was affected, and Fractella seized control of the other clones. Most of the clones are unintelligent, but Fractella is an exception—she has inherited the darkest aspects of Ralitsa’s personality and is now plotting to eliminate Ralitsa and achieve immortality through forbidden magic.

Fractella’s plan is to use the Eye Opener to increase her intelligence, as well as that of her clones, thereby enhancing her power and achieving eternal life.

The battle that follows is intense. Fractella is losing, but she begins sacrificing her own clones, absorbing their energy to heal herself and amplify her magic. With each clone she eliminates, she grows stronger. The Protectors, realizing her strategy, focus on taking down her remaining clones before she can absorb them. Rojan sabotages the ritual, preventing Fractella from fully activating the Eye Opener, and Perdita delivers the final blow that defeats the twisted clone.

Aftermath

With Fractella defeated, Linxora Corvinus appears, demanding the Eye Opener for herself. Wielding her immense political power, she threatens the Protectors with punishment for entering the underground without permission. Aware of the danger in defying her, the Protectors hand over the artifact. Linxora promises to cover for them, claiming she had sent them on the mission herself.

However, the Protectors are left uneasy. While they have saved Ralitsa Montserrat and defeated Fractella, they have placed a powerful artifact into the hands of a politically ambitious Archwizard. Iovahana later apologizes for her grandmother’s interference, but the Protectors know that this is only the beginning of a more complex and dangerous political game.

As for Ralitsa, she recovers her mental health but keeps one clone, which she has chosen to hide from the rest of the world. Only the Protectors and Iovahana know about this secret, ensuring that the knowledge remains closely guarded for now.

The Asvelgoth Protectors Ago 2024

The Asvelgoth Protectors are a renowned group of adventurers who have gained recognition and respect for their service to the city of Asvelgoth. They are known for their courage, strategic prowess, and ability to tackle complex moral dilemmas with tact and compassion. Each member brings a unique set of skills and life experiences to the group, making them a formidable team.

---

Rojan

• Race: Human
• Class: Rogue
• Alignment: Chaotic Good
• Age: Early 30s
• Background: Criminal (Reformed)
• Sin: Betrayal
• Virtue: Resilience
  

Description:
Rojan is a sharp-witted and resourceful human rogue who once was part of a group fighting dark forces on a different plane. Said plane was destroyed and she was the only one able to escape jumping to Asvelgoth's plane. She’s of average height with a lean, muscular build, her face often hidden under a hood or mask. Her red hair—cut short for practicality—gives her a striking appearance. Her eyes are always alert, reflecting her cautious nature. Although she carries the scars of her past on both her body and soul, she hides them beneath a veneer of confidence and humor.

Recent Events:

• Redemption Arc: Rojan left her old crew behind, but not without cost. During the last adventure, she faced shadow constructs that resembled her former teammates, Albica the witch, Vernon the construct fighter, and Azure the conjurer. These shadows confronted her for abandoning them, stirring up memories of guilt and regret.
• Connection with Lucia Many Eyes: Lucia, a halfling rogue and information broker, knows a secret about Rojan’s past that she has vowed never to reveal. Rojan keeps a delicate balance between her criminal past and her new role as a Protector, fearing that any slip could lead to exposure.
• Internal Conflict: After the encounter with Lacrimosa, Rojan had to wrestle with her own moral compass. While her instincts lean toward pragmatic solutions, her heart is torn between her old habits and her new role as a force for good.

---

Perdita

• Race: Gnoll
• Class: Ranger
• Alignment: Neutral Good
• Age: Late 20s
• Background: Outlander (Exiled from her tribe)
• Sin: Envy
• Virtue: Kindness

Description:
Perdita is an imposing and fearsome gnoll, standing taller than most humans with a muscular, powerful frame. Her fur is naturally a sandy color, though she recently dyed her fur black with a white mane to assume the identity of Cervelux during an undercover mission. Despite her savage appearance, Perdita is driven by a deep desire for redemption. Once part of a vicious, cruel gnoll tribe, she heard the call of the goddess of nature, and turned her back on her tribe's destructive ways. She now seeks to redeem gnolls and prove that they can follow a path of goodness.

Recent Events:

• Encounter with Grondell: In a previous adventure, Perdita confronted her long-lost brother Grondell, who had grown into a powerful and cruel gnoll barbarian/cleric. Grondell’s tribe had instilled in him the violent traditions Perdita sought to escape. In a brutal battle, Perdita was forced to defeat Grondell, which left her feeling conflicted and sorrowful. She now carries the burden of that encounter, questioning whether she could have saved him and the gnolls he led.
• Fraternal Jealousy: Perdita has grown close to the other Protectors, particularly Alacian. When Lucia asked for a date with Alacian as repayment for a favor, Perdita felt a pang of fraternal jealousy, though she hides these emotions behind her normally stoic demeanor. She views the Protectors as her new family and is fiercely protective of them.
• Redemption Mission: Perdita is constantly seeking ways to redeem gnolls in the eyes of the world. She sees her role as a Protector as a step toward that goal, but every battle against gnolls or creatures of cruelty brings her closer to her inner struggle with her past.

---

Alacian Loc

• Race: Drow
• Class: Wizard
• Alignment: Neutral Good
• Age: 120 (appears in his 30s by human standards)
• Background: Former Noble (Fell from favor due to defying Lolth's teachings)
• Sin: Despair
• Virtue: Integrity
  

Description:
Alacian Loc is a tall and slender drow with ebony black skin and striking bright red hair, which is unusual for his kind. His red eyes are often concealed behind dark glasses. Once a power-hungry practitioner of magic, Alacian has since reformed his ways, turning away from the dark influences of his drow heritage. His time in Asvelgoth has softened him, though he remains an enigmatic figure, carrying the weight of past sins.

Recent Events:

• Resurrection and the Curse: During the battle with the wizard killer, Alacian was slain and cursed, trapping his soul in a mysterious artifact. After several failed attempts, Zeera successfully lifted the curse, bringing him back to life. This experience left Alacian deeply introspective, forcing him to confront questions about the afterlife and his own morality. He wonders if his soul is truly free from the influence of the Spider goddess, and he’s considering which god to align himself with, as the memory of that limbo haunts him.
• Wizard Prejudice: Alacian often feels the weight of prejudice, not only because of his drow heritage but also because of his former dark deeds. Although Asvelgoth is relatively tolerant, the distrust many feel toward drow continues to follow him. His decision to use magic for good has made him a bit of an outcast among his kind, but he’s found solace in his role as a Protector.
• Date with Lucia: Though surprised by Lucia’s request for a date, Alacian agreed, knowing it was the favor he owed her. He is both curious and wary about where this relationship may lead, and he approaches it with caution, especially with Perdita watching over him.

---

Zeera Ibanez

• Race: Human
• Class: Cleric of Ternusla
• Alignment: Neutral Good
• Age: Early 30s
• Background: Acolyte
  
• Sin: Pride
• Virtue: Temperance

Description:
Zeera Ibanez is a cleric devoted to Ternusla, the god of out-of-the-box thinking and alternatives. Her unorthodox approach to problem-solving makes her stand out among other clerics. She is known for her calm demeanor and ability to think creatively, often coming up with solutions that others would never consider. Zeera is of average height with long black hair, which she wears in a braid. Her eyes are warm and intelligent, reflecting her inner faith and dedication to her god.

Recent Events:

• Lifting the Curse on Alacian: Zeera’s determination was tested when Alacian fell under Lacrimosa’s curse. Despite repeated failures, she never gave up on her friend and ultimately succeeded in breaking the curse, saving Alacian from eternal sleep. This act has deepened her connection to Ternusla, reinforcing her belief that thinking outside the box and exploring all options can lead to success.
• Contemplation of Alternatives: Zeera’s dedication to her god led her to question the moral implications of their most recent mission with Lacrimosa. She admired Lacrimosa’s drive to help the orphanage but struggled with the idea of justifying theft and curses for the greater good. Her alignment with Ternusla’s principles of finding alternatives allowed her to guide the party in negotiating with Lacrimosa rather than resorting to violence.
• Guidance and Leadership: As the group’s moral compass, Zeera often finds herself acting as both mediator and strategist. Her devotion to Ternusla has allowed her to see the world in shades of gray rather than strict black and white, making her a valuable asset in their decisions. Though she is peaceful by nature, she is unafraid to confront hard truths when necessary.

---

The Protectors Today

The Asvelgoth Protectors continue to navigate the complex political and moral landscape of their city, balancing their roles as heroes with their personal struggles. Each member is dealing with their past in different ways, but together, they form a cohesive and powerful team—one that strives to do what is right, even when the right path is unclear.

Gods of Asvelgoth

Gods of the reformation

Ternusla, God of Out-of-the-Box Thinking

Alignment: Neutral
Domains: Knowledge, Trickery, Arcana
Symbol: An eye emerging from an open chest
Pantheon: Asvelgothian Deities
Worshippers: Innovators, inventors, scholars, strategists, and those who value unconventional solutions

Description

Ternusla is revered as a deity who champions creativity, innovation, and the pursuit of unique solutions. In the pantheon of Asvelgothian deities, Ternusla stands out as a beacon for those who dare to think differently and challenge the status quo. His followers believe that there is always a better way, a hidden path, or an unexpected solution to every problem.

 

Korliss, God of Optimization

Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Domains: Craft, Law, Knowledge, Order
Symbol: Gears interconnected
Pantheon: Asvelgothian Deities
Worshippers: Engineers, architects, judges, bureaucrats, and those who strive for efficiency and order

Alashk, Goddess of the Unknown

Alignment: Neutral
Domains: Shadow, Void, Arcana, Silence
Symbol: An inverted black pyramid
Pantheon: Asvelgothian Deities
Worshippers: Explorers, mystics, scholars of the arcane, and those who seek hidden truths or the mysteries of the universe

Heverett, God of the "What If"

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Domains: Luck, Chaos, Randomness
Symbol: A bubble splitting into two
Pantheon: Asvelgothian Deities
Worshippers: Philosophers, dreamers, gamblers, and those who explore possibilities and alternate realities

Description

Heverett embodies the essence of possibility and the unknown. He thrives on the endless potential of what could be, constantly encouraging his followers to question reality and explore alternate paths. Heverett's realm is one of fluidity and change, where the laws of probability and chance hold sway over deterministic outcomes.

Theraxis, God of Merit

Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Domains: Justice, Strength, Leadership, Order
Symbol: A sword rising to the stars
Pantheon: Asvelgothian Deities
Worshippers: Judges, leaders, warriors, and those who believe in meritocracy and justice

Description

Motto: "Power to who deserves it"

Theraxis embodies the principle that power and authority should be granted based on merit and rightful actions. He values fairness, strength, and the proper administration of justice, ensuring that those who are deserving rise to positions of influence and control. His followers are often involved in roles where judgment, leadership, and strength are paramount.

 

Brumhensko, God of Harnessing Evil for Good

Alignment: Neutral Evil
Domains: Evil, Protection, Liberation
Symbol: A bloody morning star
Pantheon: Asvelgothian Deities
Worshippers: Seekers of knowledge, treasure hunters, scholars, and those who believe in the greater good through the proper use of powerful artifacts and knowledge

Description

Motto: "Dark power in the right hands"

Brumhensko ensures that dark and powerful knowledge, as well as ancient artifacts, are placed in the hands of those who are truly deserving and can use them for the greater good. Followers of Brumhensko are dedicated to the pursuit of hidden truths and the responsible use of such potent discoveries. They believe that true power and enlightenment come from uncovering and mastering what is hidden, and that sometimes the ends justify the means in achieving the greater good. They strive to ensure that these profound secrets are used wisely and effectively.

Femea, The tester

Alignment: Neutral
Domains:
Symbol: A protractor ruler
Pantheon: Asvelgothian Deities
Worshippers: