Priesthoods, Part 2

Click here to read Part 1 of Priesthoods.

If a poet, writer, sculptor or painter has lost their creativity, they pray to Chanlhaian, Goddess of Artists and Forests. If a woodsman wants to chop down a tree, he begs for permission. Granted, the latter isn’t necessary, unless one just cut a tree from one of the Goddess’s sacred groves, in which case you better beg as if your life depended on it, because it does. Chanlhaian’s clergy maintains shrines anywhere within a city where artists may gather. They also work as tutors to noble scions and the children of the wealthy, teaching the arts of both word and brush or pen. Groves sacred to her are commonly the most lush places inside a forest, and no elf has ever knowingly laid axe against a tree growing there. The offerings vary. Somewhere in the east poet-priests actually earn their living by selling short poems to down-on-their-luck artists to be used as offerings. Others, especially those who dedicate themselves to teaching, obviously prefer coin, without the poem. And what gift has Chanlhaian bestowed on her priesthood? Their art is flawless, and they can ignite creativity in others. (Though if they’re talented is a completely different matter. ~K)

Chundhailan, Chanlhaian’s twin, is the God of Crafters and Plains. Crafters I understand, even a carpenter might have performance anxiety, but Plains? Not even the priestess I spoke to could explain. Forests, sacred groves, trees being chopped, for crafters, I get that. But Plains? Big, flat, and grassy. Then again, we don’t have to understand the gods. Cingrib favors hobos, so Plains might not be as random at all. (Took the words right out of my mouth. ~K)

There is a shrine to Chundhailan in every pottery. Woodworkers, engineers – they all pray to him. They ask for inspiration, a steady hand, that their mind stays alert. His priests and priestesses wander from settlement to settlement, never staying long in any one place. His gift to them? Anything becomes the right tool in their hands.

I’ve heard of one priest who repaired a broken axle with a bit of twine and a chicken bone. The wagon made it to the next village, two days away, before succumbing to the damage.

[While smithcraft should belong in Chundhailan’s sphere of influence, it does not. This craft is the domain of the Master Stone and his children. Even if most humans don’t pray to the dwarves, Master Stone still listens. He and his don’t help, but they listen. Maybe, in time, humans will learn, at which point it’s quite possible Master Stone and his children will send inspiration the human smiths’ way. Elven smiths do venerate the stone lords alongside the Children of Ice. It seems a good arrangement.]

Pandhaen, Goddess of Animals and Messengers, has a priesthood that is as diverse as it is unique. Some are skilled in husbandry, others in butchery, and still others lead messenger services that keep a city’s communication going. Her gift to the messengers is that, if the offering matches the need, a missive will be delivered, no matter what. Beasts cared for by her clergy will always breed well, suffer little illness, and accept their fate when brought to the butchers. It’s ironic, really; the Goddess of Animals also cares for the wellbeing of those creatures that end up in one’s supper. Woe those who mistreat the animals.

[Why is there a separate deity for horses? That is a question that has bothered countless philosophers. And it may never be answered. Suffice it to say that Rauggeeth’s priesthood and that of Pandhaen do complement one another when healing (or butchering) horses.]

Windarran, he of the Broken Tower. His is the hand that guides both architects and war-engineers. The Lord of Planning and Destruction, unlike his sibling Ionnairh, is not mindless in his actions, and neither is his priesthood. Where the God of Mountains and Rage is wild and unbridled, his brother is the opposite. Everything has a breaking point, and Windarran’s clergy know exactly where it is, and how to reach it. They advise, they teach, they plan, but others do the building or destroying.

One would think he and Rhydrandh would work well together, Planning and Tactics, but the chaos of the battlefield rarely lends itself to the proper execution of any plan. Windarran is a tinkerer, and so are his priests.

Adhrananna, the Huntress, she of Decay. Her priests are gamekeepers and foresters. They grant or deny luck to hunters. They also see to it that those who die in the wilderness – be they elf, man or beast – stay there to feed the ground. Her gift is that of balance. Her priests and priestesses know when the wolves are too many – or the stags – and they return the balance. Pandhaen cares for the animals, but Adhrananna hunts those animals that upset the natural order of things. (Which, in some places might include poachers. ~R)

The God of Tactics and Chaos adapts to the madness of the battlefield. Generals and warleaders rely on Rhydrandh’s tacticians to aid them in their plans. This is a different kind of planning than that of Windarran; it revolves around nothing more than supremacy on the battlefield. There have been instances when a Tactician’s advice guided a warleader to send his reserves to where the opponent did not expect them.

As with all gods, if both sides sacrifice to Rhydrandh, his priests’ insight might turn one battle but could well decide another for the opponent. If one side doesn’t make offerings, the odds are rarely in their favor.

[I find it fascinating that humans, with their tendency for violence, don’t hold the Lord of Tactics and Chaos in higher regard, if they know of him at all. The humans in Gathran’s former domain, those who live apart from elves, have all but forgotten about the Tactician’s blessings. Which, I suppose, makes battles far more random.]

Chandhulan, Goddess of Song and Anger, She of the Broken Lute, is a force of nature. Her priests and priestesses can usually be found in pubs and taverns, singing for coin, and brawling for fun. Not necessarily on the same night, but it’s quite common for them to take down the names and faces of those who insult their music, and then kick them down a notch or three the following evening. This brawl is usually accompanied by another priest or several, who enjoy the violence. Chandhulan’s priests also provide the musicians, usually drummers, to accompany warbands. It is said that Gathran’s Leghans had Dramhears, drum players who could create such ruckus that energized the Leghary, thus stopping a Canthan from breaking.

[They’re also good to have around at gatherings and festivities – although a band of Chandhulan’s priests can cause bursts of aggression and euphoria. Not that anyone has ever truly complained. Even the proprietor of a trashed establishment swears they had a good time. And since the musicians always pay for the damage from the ample donations earned during a concert, all is well.]

Chandhulan’s twin, the God of Beauty and Strategy, Chunlhaian is also represented in many armies. His priests and priestesses aid warleaders, warlords, and generals to achieve perfection on the battlefield. Winning is on all their minds, but, again, if both sides employ a priest of Chunlhaian, the outcome relies on much more than divined strategy. The generals and warleaders and warlords know this, but they’d be foolish to dismiss these master strategists. Offerings are made before a battle, and after a victorious battle. It’s usually the blood of an enemy spilled on Chunlhaian’s mask.

[Chanlhaian, Chundhailan, Chandhulan, Chunlhaian. Sometimes, it’s hard to keep the names straight, but, personally, I think the gods enjoy this kind of confusion.]

Medhuina, She of Deserts and Oases, Lady Jackal, is represented by a shrine in every temple related to Jainagath and his followers. (Needs clarification, in another scroll. ~K) Her shrines can also be found at the places where paths or roads enter deserts, and within every oasis. Medhuina’s priesthood is devoted to the roaming sands and the small green specks that dot them. They watch over oases, maintaining their availability to every traveler, and they see to it that the goddess is given proper honors in order for the deserts to remain content in their place. It’s been said that some settlements were swallowed by the sands, as they made no offerings to Lady Jackal.

What can be said of Kandhuladh, God of Food and Drink? He is the patron of cooks and brewers and vintners and spirit makers. As such, some of his Culinaries travel the world to witness new creations of food and drink. Others have settled down and opened eateries, Culinariums, for the common folk, mass producing favored dishes at prices the lower classes can afford. While many apartments have a dedicated stone hearth, many more do not, or can’t afford to pay a utility mage each day to remind the stone it has been hot once. Mages are commonplace, yes, but money is not, and it’s cheaper to visit a Kandhuladhist eatery to buy food for one’s family each day than to rent a mage and buy the ingredients for a daily meal. At least with a Culinarium, they know the ingredients are hand chosen. What are Kandhuladh’s gifts, aside from picking the best-tasting or longest-lasting ingredients? Well, unlike lay cooks, Culinaries can never ruin meal or drink, or burn either by accident.

Demigods

During the Age of Heroes, when the gods took a more active hand in elven affairs, many a deity lay with elf or sunargh. So it came to pass that mortals sired offspring with goddesses, or gods sired offspring with mortals. How many there are is a matter of debate, especially since this was before Libraries and Librarians. Much of that knowledge is lost, many of the demigods were active only in specific areas, and there may well be some overlap. (Considering how horny mortals can be, there’s no doubt in my mind the may have been many. ~K)

In the Woods of Gathran, Traghnalach fell in lust with one of his Librarians, and he courted her for a long time until she finally agreed to lay with him. From that union, Lleeanthar was born. In Gathran she was worshipped as the Goddess of Insight and Wisdom. Hers was a gift of learning but also understanding. Where her mother wrote what she saw, and with her father being the Lord of All Knowledge, Lleeanthar’s skills transcended both, because she drew conclusions her father rarely saw. Knowledge alone means very little when it comes to people. One must have the wisdom to understand the connections of events.

There probably are demigods similar to her being worshipped by teachers all over the world. The Age of Heroes lasted a generation or two, and the gods-spawns were instrumental in inspiring societies and civilizations.

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