Mirkfu, the press of eternity Character in DraKaise Battalion | World Anvil

Mirkfu, the press of eternity

God of time, imprisonment, consumption, agony, and insignificance.

Don't you see, nothing matters. The Giants hold the cosmos in their hands and have crushed vast worlds times the importance of our own. Yet those that could remember the nature of the worlds do not, for their minds cannot bear the weight. All of this is but a blip on a stage under a spotlight that blinds beings far more than any of us.   We are not to be forgotten, we are never to have been remembered.
  It is said that at one point, Mirkfu was an Elf. His ears bearing the trademark points and holding himself as one of the immortals that came from the feywild to the lands of the third world. However, few would be surprised to know that he predates the third world by a stretch of time that is hard to imagine. This creature is, in truth, one of the most ancient of Sylvans that wandered the Feywild while the third world formed under the watchful eyes of the Celestial Giants.   Once a follower of Chando Meywa, the Distant Arctele, he strove to find information on the worlds that were within his reach, those endless and vast planes of existence that dominate the surroundings of Arydia. As he searched, he grew in power and knowledge. He found Chando time and time again, seeking her answers to questions he barely knew how to ask. Slowly, he pieced together what he needed and approached The Pantheon for his reward. He had found truths of the very universe itself.   Instead of congratulations and rewards, those of the pantheon turned on him and struck at him in a fit of fury. He was rebuked and smited. And surely, had he not asked the correct questions and prepared for this eventuality, he would have been caught unawares. He managed to survive the fury of the gods long enough to beseech the giants themselves for their promise of divinity. So that he could spread the understandings that he had collected, those of time and space.   The giants found him unworthy and cast him from their sight, but their newest creation, the The Knotted Snake took it's first act of defiance to shield the Sylvan from harm and give him the ascendancy he deserved. A place where his lust for knowledge and understanding could be sated. In truth, he never found the secrets to removing time from the picture of reality, and as the eons have marched ever on, he has divined to those of his followers that will listen that time is a cage with bars that can only slightly be bent.   However, these words and understandings are the most he provides his followers. The experience and understandings he gained as a deity have made him reclusive as he sees that even he is comparatively insignificant, bound to the will of the cosmos and the giants. He does not show himself to his followers, instead, pitying them and refusing to allow them the thoughts that he might bear their presence as significant. Calling upon his name rarely brings anything to the fore.  


The Followers of Mirkfu are subdued in nature, seeing the truth of time and the relative insignificance of even gods tends to instill a depression that shakes many to their very core. Some choose to spread the truth of the insignificance of reality, and to demonstrate the lack of relevance of every action through inaction and the ensuing lack of response. They are rarely destructive, seeing no purpose in the actions that are taken in this manner.   The eternity of silence that awaits them beyond their mortal points of awareness are the only thoughts that permeate the most devout of followers of Mirkfu. Because of this, there are no temples of Mirkfu, no organizations founded to advance his will, and nothing to seek his followers for. Only his insidious truth makes it's path through civilization, leaving depression and listlessness in its wake.


Mirkfu holds no standards of worship or expectations of his followers. Yet he retains followers and worshipers of several types.   Some of his followers seek to know where he went wrong, analyzing his words and the words of texts that bears his thoughts and understandings to refute them.   Some long for the true immortality that can't be refuted on a whim, seeking power that was seen in the actions and knowledge of Mirkfu. Surely, they can find redemption and significance in the worst of the worlds they might see. They can find understandings of the bars of reality that they have been constrained within.   But the majority are those that have heard his words, lured in by the promise of secrets and destroyed by their incapability of refuting the truths they see. The following acting more like a contagion of ideas and thoughts over a true sense of worship.

Mortal Representation

  A stereotypical frail elven wizard of indeterminate age but leaning to the elderly, white hair.

Divine Symbol

  Mirkfu is most often represented by a clock wrapped in an iron cage.
Once you have truly been consumed by Mirkfu, and told him the secrets of reality that he already knows, he grants your power to do with as you will.
— Priest of Mirkfu.


While insignificance is the true understanding of Mirkfu, he honors those with compunction to strive through their understanding of insignificance and grant power to use through his aims. Of course, these followers are extremely rare, but when they are found, they often align with these domains.  
Arcana, Ambition, Trickery, Grave
  Mirkfu's thoughts of the other deities.
Firn, the Chilled Halfling: While some communities may show up as more than the faintest blip in this ocean of chaos that is the lands of the time. The truth of the matter is that the individual will never amount to anything, the bonds that are forged are meaningless and offer nothing but placebo effects.   Chando Meywa, the Distant Arctele: Do the secrets of the cosmos matter? When you finally find them the truth of the matter will destroy them. Even Chando has fallen to this, turning the seeking of truth into a game that she guides people to their deaths with. For if people were to all find the truth of everything, there would be no more people.   Karan, the Spelunking Half-Elf : Exploration, a search for meaning in this cruel land that claims itself to be that of importance. Karan finds nothing, so she must keep seeking. And those who follow her example are robbed of the understanding that none of their adventures or truths will ever really matter. Only this flimsy meaning they prescribe to their own actions will amount for them, and that is gone as soon as they have acknowledged it.   MeyGana, Roar of the Sea : The journey over the destination. To weather the storm. Feel the rain on the skin of the shell you reside within. Understanding the words of the world and seeing the lightning as a flash of insight, Meygana is foolish to think actions mean things, but sees to the light of the moment in ways most do not.   The Raven Queen, Courier of Souls: The starling of the Coalition, the she that made her own legacy through the murder of another. While the others have no lasting permanence, the truth of the actions of the self-crowned queen will reverberate as a point of contention and understanding. Few things hold ramifications that stretch, but the ones that mimic this understanding have caused ripples of a great amount.   Plospryn, The Thaw of Spring: In the moment. While Meygana can see the glimmer of this light and encourages it in her followers. Plospryn holds nothing sacred and flows with the moment. Seeing the meaning in everything to be prescribed. It is a breath of fresh air in comparison to those attempting to make their feeble marks on destiny and the truth of reality.
Rahz-Pluoht, The Fiery Blade: Rahz is the counterpart of Plospryn in this way. The true brutality of war overshadowed by adrenaline and the understanding of the flows of battle. He swings his blade and thinks of little beyond the ensuing cut of flesh or clash of metal. Strategy and understanding remain, but are of the moment and of the soon rather than that of the future or of the memory.   Garma, the Halfing of the Hearth: The bonds held through dinner are meaningless, but unlike his counterpart. He focuses less on the lasting of these and more of the truth of the dinner, the gleaning of sustenance. The dinner that is the formation of these bonds is separate from the bonds themselves.   Rogalev, the Human Adventurer: In every fashion, Rogalev is my own counterpart. He looks to the abyss that is this horrible world we have been constrained to and plans. He has planned for countless years and has understandings for countless years beyond that. His followers build his desires and aim to progress their destinies to the stars and the worlds beyond. He tries to become more than just the faintest blip and in doing so earns the ire of the cosmos. I hope he learns to understand his true weaknesses in this matter.   MasToch, the Dwarven Flame: The fires of the night. The light reflecting through the amber liquids of alcoholic beverages. The matter is held to be that of celebration. Hold the dynastic views in repute and be scorned, for he hopes for the future in too great an amount, but the holding of the moment and celebration therein keeps him to be an understanding.   Armide, the Sun Spider: A fool who reached out in a manner of help and sought to aid in the understanding of another. He has ascended to a new way of thinking now. A way to see the world in the light of insignificance and eternity.   Hextank, Ascendant: Too little is known of this machine. But his focus on comradery and protection says much of the truth of his ways.
MerGus, the lost thoughts: He believes himself to be ahead of the curve in the understanding of the future. He waits for the changing of the tides of DraKaise to pull the Knotted Snake to a point where the Giants cannot contest it. He is a fool.
Darchada, the Uncontrollable Spread: The Empress of the continual spread. Her mark is not to be made, but to expand in a constant state. It can be respected to a great degree.
Theme Song
Divine Classification
True Neutral
Voidular Pits without an iris.
Ragged and white.

Cover image: by HelHeim


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