|Title||Nemesis, The Knight Demise|
|Portfolio||Betrayal, insanity and revenge|
|Typical Worshipers||Fallen knights, mercenaries, outcasts|
|Typical Worshiper Alignment||Chaotic Neutral|
|Domains||Chaos, Death, Earth, Madness|
|Subdomains||Demon, Metal, Murder, Nightmare|
|Favored Weapon||Bastard sword|
The third risen God, coming into divinity after The Calling, is Nemyth Vaar, which, in the old tongue, means ‘knight of death’ or The Knight Demise. He rose during the NewGod Wars following The Calling, though even the Divine Record has no hint of the name of the mortal shell that was his genesis. The slim volume Outcast’s Creed names him only as Nemesis, though he was obviously one of the greatest warriors of His age, and probablyn ethnicity. Nemyth Vaar holds no allegiance to any other deity, however, as he and his faithful are contemptuous of other faiths, even those who hold common domains. The Knight Demise has learned the folly of trust.
Nemyth Vaar is not so much worshipped as he is appeased by all those who fear the sort of corruption he represents. Anyone actually seeking to betray another would do well to seek out a shrine to The Nemesis and make a small offering. The Knight Demise has shrines, collectively called the Court of Debts, in most major cities and many smaller towns. Even a single Irreverent, as the clergy are dubbed, can represent the Court of Debts in a village and take tithes from the carefully guilty and the fearfully innocent alike. The Irreverants are tolerated in most cities because of the vital civil service they provide: they staff and maintain asylums. It is said that the faithful of Nemyth Vaar can hear divine truth in the ramblings of the mad. More often, however, they end up being inmates themselves. Irreverents are encouraged to engage in martial training with the bastard sword, and are sometimes found supplying clerical support in mercenary bands-indeed Nemyth Vaar is often claimed as the patron ‘Saint’ of mercenaries. The paragons of his service are the Night Terrors, anti-
Irreverents can only prepare their spells at midnight, except for nights of the full moon. On these nights, they can prepare at any point between sunset and dawn. The rituals are fairly brief, as outlined in the Outcast’s Creed, but must be performed where something sentient has bled or died. If there is not violence where the cleric kneels to pray, no spells are forthcoming. Lastly, the Irreverent must be wearing either a metal helmet or metal gauntlets during prayers. Otherwise, the Betrayer Betrayed affords them nothing,
The following religion traits may be chosen by worshipers of this deity.
By taking time and chanting to the Knight Demise, you can sometimes make an important discovery.
Red Eye of Wrath
Your left eye glows blazing red as you channel the demonic fury of your god into a single baleful look.
From the Outcast’s Creed, codex 1, stanzas 3 to 6:
On a hallowed night, when the deeds of men could still lift them from this world and into the company of the Divine, there was a great and noble warrior second to none. His deeds were legend across the world and his elevation certain. The mighty gates of the newly-minted Heavens opened and a Great Power beckoned him to join the Gods. The warrior found himself facing a number of violent, faceless creatures, each more threatening than the last. He braced himself for battle. “No, worthy mortal. Cast aside your wrath and you will know peace. When you know peace, your foes cannot know anger.”
Doing as the Divine Voice said, the warrior vowed to set aside his rage and embrace holy calm. A dark cloud rose within him and vomited forth, fading away into a shadow behind him as all fury left him. Serenity like he had never known before filled his every sense, exalting him as he walked onward, passing through the creatures like smoke. Next, he came to a corridor with a massive brute of a guardian blocking the way. Hefting a huge axe, the lumbering behemoth roared a challenge and started to charge. Even while at peace, the warrior understood the need to defend himself. He reached back, starting to draw his legendary blade. “No, worthy mortal. Cast aside your fear and you will know trust. When you know trust, your foes cannot do you harm.”
Again obeying, the warrior unbuckled his harness and dropped his sword, his sole companion through hundreds of battles and military campaigns. Instantly, it was like the weight of ages fell away with the weapon. He felt uplifted, understanding that by girding for war, he had always accepted the lie that war was all he could ever know. His charging attacker began to shrink, his bellows becoming the squawks of a common raven, and flew away. Walking onward, he left his sword, the symbol of the lie of the necessity of war, behind. Now he came to the base of a great set of pearl-white steps rising up into the night sky. There, curled around the base of them, was a great dragon, with eyes of cold malice and scales like battlements. The beast saw him approach and lifted its head in a roar like a hundred thunders. Fire started to build in its throat, a breath that would surely blast him into ashes. With no aggression and unarmed, the warrior did the only thing he could do. He curled up into a ball, protecting his face with his gauntlets and bracers. “No, worthy one,” came the Voice a third time. “Cast aside the shell of your mortality and you will know unity. When you know unity, your enemies will bear witness while you transcend.”
Already feeling the stirrings of godhood within, the warrior willed his armor to fall away, and rose up proudly to face the terrible wyrm. The raiment that had shielded him through his entire martial life dropped like metal rain around him, discarded and lost. The dragon unleashed its fire, catching the warrior in its furnace heat as he walked forward, unafraid. The flames were dire, but they could not touch him, feeling like little more than a summer breeze. The dragon bellowed its failure and flew off into the night, leaving the stairs unguarded. His path open, the warrior climbed the stairs towards the Heavens and his place among the Gods. At the very top, he found the gates unlocked but still closed. His touch did not open them. His push did not open them. How could he enter? “Only one obstacle remains, Divine One. Cut down your betrayer and your journey is complete” The warrior looked toward the gates in growing dismay. “Forgive me, but I see no one. Who is it I must best to win my godhood?” Then his breath caught and the point of his own sword ripping through his heart and emerging from his naked chest. A hollow voice echoed behind him, only slightly louder than the sound of his armor moving, alone. It was the voice of his warrior’s rage, the shadow he cast aside.
“Fool, it was talking to Me.”
There, on the steps of Heaven, the would-be warrior god died. In his place, every darkest part of him-his fury, fear, and brutal mortality- rose up as the nightmare god Nemyth Vaar, the Betrayer Betrayed and Nemesis, even unto Himself.
The Gods of Porphyra © 2012, Purple Duck Games; Authors: Christopher Kaiser, Perry Fehr, Mark Gedak, August Hahn, John Hazen, Sean Holland, Sam Hing, James H. Lewis, Chris Longhurst, Scott Messer, Sean O’Connor, David Nicholas Ross, and Jeremy Whalen