The Great Court: A Varied Account of Lesser Deities, Devils, and Demigods

[Quatral]

The Great Court
 
Between the Constants, Primordials, and the greater Divines of the world exists a lesser strata of deities, a forum of demi-gods, lesser lords, and kings of the outer planes which make up the loosely described 'Great Court'. Though they know no common place for meeting, and it's just as likely the existence of some is unknown to others- this loose collection of lesser gods and divinities form a humble cornerstone of mortal theology. Some are prayed to, supplicated for blessings... whilst others are reviled, warded off, or even beguiled with offerings of flesh should their appetite demand it.
 
Y'ton Y'shun
The Magus
 

 
A wandering, hidden creature who resembles a cross between an upright snail and an octopus, with most of its strange and hideous form hidden beneath sashes of purple and azure. Inherently curious of the physical realm, the demon's intentions seem benign... though something surely malicious lurks behind a gaze of rich ochre. Capricious by nature, the mischievous devil of knowledge and higher learning is eager to grant his gifts to mortals- so long as they seem like they'll do something entertaining with it. This juxtaposition between whimsy and the eldritch ensures that no one being- mortal or otherwise... can truly know the Magus' designs.
 
Gohl Haul Hûn
The Tyrant
 

 
The Iron Lord, the Many-Mouths King, a hoarder of titles as much as he is a hoarder of human misery. Torture, slavery, and the misanthropic delights which cruelty calls its purview are among those things which Gohl calls his own. Few willingly entreat the Tyrant for his favors, and those which do... are best left alone themselves. From within the walls of a labyrinthine brass fortress, the Tyrant exacts his bizarre and authoritarian leisure upon the grim few who have been unfortunate enough to fall from his grace through the passing centuries. Failed warlords, petty kings, and the officers of poorly executed coup d'etats call the prisons of Gohl Haul Hûn their home, where their trespasses upon the authority of the Tyrant are extracted in blood and agony. Truly, only the mad or the power hungry might dare to offer their whispered prayers to such a being...
 
Iogai
The Shifter
 

 
Few know the true face of Iogai the Shifter, for the unknowable being has long since consigned his identity to the flickering dim of pre-history. Though his name remains on the tongue of many, as a granter of boons and favors to those who might shirk their mortal flesh for something... more exotic. Some call him the first fleshcrafter, though this claim has been disputed and debated by many old and proud liches who lay claim to the same title. Commonly taking the appearance of an unassuming and portly old man, bald and flecked with carbuncles... Iogai enjoys a certain game of trickery with his supplicants. One wonders why a creature with so many faces would choose one so ugly- an answerless question which Iogai delights in flaunting to those who envy his powers. Many would love nothing more than to claim the shifter's hide for themselves... though few would be so fortunate as to ensnare the slippery changeling.

 

Neth Neath Anias Ul'nim

The False Moon

 

 

An ethereal and often unseen entity which lurks upon the boundaries between what is corporeal and intangible. Testing the boundaries of reality until a moonless night besets the dim and unsettled regions of the world... it's here where trappers, traders, and scouts will tell tale of a 'false moon' which rises in the sky. Usually given away by the faint blue gleam which rings its circular presence in the sky, Neth Neath is no ordinary celestial body- one might argue its presence in the understood cosmology of the world is heretical in of itself. Though it persists as a bleak and inhuman phenomenon, drawing in those weak or desperate enough to find comfort in that soft cerulean glow which casts across the black sky. Like a wisp in the swamp.. it draws the unsuspecting and ignorant into traps of brackish taint- until the void itself would swallow them. Those who see the False Moon in the sky know well to keep away, and keep sheltered if they wish to see morning... when the sun rises and the evils of the night are banished once more.

 

Pzokol

The Hound

 

 

In the wood of Kyta in the far north, few would willingly hunt in the stomping grounds of old Pzokol. A hideous amalgamation of the woodland creatures which live in subservient fear of their forest's elder master. Horned and cowled in matted fur, the Hound is called on only in the deepest of nights.. when the shadows are long and the woods are deathly quiet. In spite of its beastly appearance, Pzokol's wisdom and sagely nature is sought out by those with the bravery to confront his feral and ancient presence. Once a lord of the hunt himself, the tired and elder creature now languishes in the ailing and old forests at the far north of the world, where he makes his peace with the land.

   

might add more later if i feel like it and if ppl think its cool