Most sentient species’, regardless of affiliation, pay homage in some form or another to at least one of the Gods. The facts and details have faded over time, but there is no doubt that they banished the Daemons that threatened to destroy all life, and they rebuilt the world. Even those that do not pray for help and advice will give thanks and pay their respects.
Full list of chapters (with links) for Awakening (Book One in Eklektos Series) in order, for easy browsing.
“What can I say? When you’re trying to steal a heart you have to pay attention to what makes it tick.” Hermes shrugged modestly, carefully schooling his expression.
The truth was that it was frighteningly easy for her to go for the kill. Holding back to only disable her opponents was much more difficult. Wolf didn’t need any “underhanded tricks” to destroy them.
At the entrance to the courtyard stood the pristine shrine to the Judge. The statue depicted the perfectly balanced scales that symbolised justice, and it exuded an aura of authority. It was unpleasant. Catryn couldn’t help but marvel that even a simple shrine could have such an overpowering pressure.
When creating characters in this world, have your players choose up to four Caretakers their character resonates with most deeply. They do not have to be devout followers, but whichever has the ideals their character is closest to.
It was an urban legend. A fable. A myth. No one knew where it originated, but stories emerged from all over the world. Warnings written into our history that people only remembered when someone disappeared.
As they ran, the weariness quickly settled back over her bones. Despite her even gait, every step jolted her injuries until she struggled for breath. Ignoring the pain, she sent her consciousness forward to the seemingly lifeless man in Ric’s arms.
Like swallowing fire, it scorched her from the inside out and set her nerves alight. She knew beyond any shadow of a doubt, that no human was born to wield such devastating power as that of a Caretaker.
His skin was almost translucent, and it flaked like dry parchment. Over his heart, the only hint of colour, a pulsing red rune had been carved. A rune Wren knew all too well.
A Journey in Self Expression 