Blemmigan
Illusion is eternity. Machines will live forever.
I remember when magic was something vigorous and true.
I remember when the devout would pray for the power to rebuild a city, repel an army, extend a lifespan.
I remember the sacrifices made. I remember the love and the worship.
I remember when I, too, was remembered.
For new gods, the people have the routines of money and business, engineering and innovation. There are no temples or names for these gods, and tales of the old days, when the gods bestowed their chosen few with magic, have been dismissed as myth. After all, it may make a good story, but magic could never be real. It simply had to be our primitive ancestors' way of explaining strong leaders and natural disasters, tied up in a neat narrative bundle to thrill their children. These days, even those who call themselves sorcerers or seers are dismissed as frauds. There is no place in society for the fiction of magic.
But those old stories tell that Isson is built on magic. It was raised from the sea by the gods who presided over it, and who each chose a worshipper to bestow with their gifts. Foreign armies were repelled, harvests were plentiful, and the chosen priests spoke the will of the divine. Some gods demanded sacrifices of various kinds, others required worship in their own ways, but their names were spoken and praised by all. The words and love of the people kept the gods alive, and in turn the powers granted made Isson rich and peaceful.
Which is true? Did the gods create the land from nothing, or were they created by those who later praised them? The gods cannot exist without worship. As they were ignored, the power of their priests diminished. And as the power diminished, so too did the worship, and history became fiction and their names became nothing at all.
Not so. The gods are still alive. They are, however, diminished in power: without worship, they are hardly stronger than a mortal, and although they do not age, they are fully able to be killed should someone try to hurt them. Some have found success living as a mortal, whereas others are no more than beggars, staying close to one of their old temples in the hope that it might revitalise them, or keep them safe.
But now the gods are grouping together, ready to either regain their powers or to finally die in the process. One last time, each will choose a patron and bestow their powers upon them, showing the world that they are more than stories, trying to win back the love and worship that they so desperately need.
I remember when the devout would pray for the power to rebuild a city, repel an army, extend a lifespan.
I remember the sacrifices made. I remember the love and the worship.
I remember when I, too, was remembered.
introduction
The land of Isson is littered with forgotten temples. Some were once large and ornate in the centre of cities, but now gutted and turned into halls or mansions. Others were more modest, but built in earnest by villagers who prayed for some small protection against the things they feared in the dark. Each temple begs the attention of one of the country's old gods, with their likeness pride of place. But those beautiful marble statues have long since been broken or sold, and even in the smallest temples the rough engravings of the patron god's faces have eroded away. Some of the village elders still tell tales of the gods, but that is all they are, now: characters in a story.For new gods, the people have the routines of money and business, engineering and innovation. There are no temples or names for these gods, and tales of the old days, when the gods bestowed their chosen few with magic, have been dismissed as myth. After all, it may make a good story, but magic could never be real. It simply had to be our primitive ancestors' way of explaining strong leaders and natural disasters, tied up in a neat narrative bundle to thrill their children. These days, even those who call themselves sorcerers or seers are dismissed as frauds. There is no place in society for the fiction of magic.
But those old stories tell that Isson is built on magic. It was raised from the sea by the gods who presided over it, and who each chose a worshipper to bestow with their gifts. Foreign armies were repelled, harvests were plentiful, and the chosen priests spoke the will of the divine. Some gods demanded sacrifices of various kinds, others required worship in their own ways, but their names were spoken and praised by all. The words and love of the people kept the gods alive, and in turn the powers granted made Isson rich and peaceful.
Which is true? Did the gods create the land from nothing, or were they created by those who later praised them? The gods cannot exist without worship. As they were ignored, the power of their priests diminished. And as the power diminished, so too did the worship, and history became fiction and their names became nothing at all.
summary
Gods used to be not only revered, but real. They granted their specific kind of magic powers to a chosen patron, a kind of priest who was considered the god's mortal counterpart and used those powers to benefit the country as much as possible. However, the last patron was hundreds of years ago, and the gods have been dismissed as an ancient fiction.Not so. The gods are still alive. They are, however, diminished in power: without worship, they are hardly stronger than a mortal, and although they do not age, they are fully able to be killed should someone try to hurt them. Some have found success living as a mortal, whereas others are no more than beggars, staying close to one of their old temples in the hope that it might revitalise them, or keep them safe.
But now the gods are grouping together, ready to either regain their powers or to finally die in the process. One last time, each will choose a patron and bestow their powers upon them, showing the world that they are more than stories, trying to win back the love and worship that they so desperately need.
ideas
If you're interested, please feel free to state your preference on any of the following!- In which time frame should the RP take place? The land is fictional, but should it be inspired by a medieval time period or the industrial revolution?
- Update: "Mortals" refers to "humans", without other fantasy-style "races".
- Is there a current, overarching religion? Either a foreign army invaded, and essentially "wiped out" the old gods, or people just grew to favour technology and science over so-called magic.
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