Spirits, Temple
Spirits of The Temple control many Aspects of life. Also known as the Mundane gods, they watch over the things in life outside adventuring. While not as influential as the Temple Gods, they are numerous. Everything from farming to the weather has a spirit watching over it. Many find comfort in these spirits and worship them as their diety rather than The Gods of adventerers that many flock too.
Manifestation
The sprits have one consistent aspect, they always take the shape of belief. Each spirit became what the sentience of the world saw it as.
99% of spirits go fully unnoticed by several lifetimes of mortals. An average spirit fills a mundane role the world may think about little. For example the spirit of a local river, certain dishes of food, breathing, etcetera. These things just barely pass the cusp of collective thought to become real. They can be brought into reality by certain mages and utilized for spellcraft, or maybe even spoken too. Their shapes are often ephemeral and nearly transparent., not unlike ghosts, but without the freezing necrotic energies. They remain uninteresting and of little use to the modern world.
Self-awareness shapes 0.99% of spirits. Their forms can be physical if the people think of them as such, or not. These spirits begin to have impressive abilities. Thoughts. Perhaps even language. Large swaths of land, common ideas, and shared stories take these forms. The best and most amusing examples are heroes and villains. While not forever important, often a certain person completes a heroic act and then passes onto the afterlife. Yet, it seems, they live a second life. The spread stories of these heroic individuals shape them into a simple being that repeats their acts or carries on a few parts of their will. A great dragon slayer may find their spirit carrying on their anti-draconic will an extra ten or even a hundred years after they pass depending on how many bards tell their tale. It can be absurdly confusing when magical beings become involved as sometimes this law is mixed with their control over spells to partially resurrect themself, empower their spirit, and/or carry out highly intelligent plans. The cases for these are extremely hard to track.
Reality is shaped by things all living creatures must experience. These very same things become the most potent spirits. Here a show of spirits is best to help understand them, for they defy words often.
The Spirit of Death. All die, even the immortal fears ending. On Potestatem when one dies it is commonly known your soul is thrust from the central material plane of existence where all things are and to the outer planes, crossing the border of realities.
Over millennia death has become a force that represents this central idea Great battles, the graveyards of Alan, as plagues haunt city streets, the portal of death will loom. At first, the spirit of death appears as a regional change in stimulus. The temperature will lower, the skies grey over, and a general malaise will affect most living creatures. A general grime, filthiness, and rampant stench may begin to thrive in the corner of one's eyes and under the skin. Should death pervade the thoughts of many in a concentrated area death itself will begin to form and roam the given area. Goosebumps roll across the skin and each corner seems to hold a shadow of a person just behind it. Darkness takes a second longer to leave as a torch is light.
And the final sight. The being death. I fear to even write of it without speaking the incantation. O death. May you carry with my soul, my mind. For we know not your breadth. I know nothing of your kind. Take a day, a tenday, one temple passing, but please remove not my mind.
A hole in reality hovers over a mass grave. The screaming soldiers in their piles at a breach in a wall, well held, seem to open a jagged gateway from which all reality can be seen through. The legendary spell of *gate*, taken mind. Bones and a ship await on the other side of death's gate. To guide the soul to the outer plane it earned. Death is a Law spirit with no goal but to guide the transition. Luckily this is true for us. When Alan the black greatwyrm nearly took on the aspect of death, we all saw what happened, the desolation was born, and may the current spirit of death remain as neutral as it is.
The chant of her warrior.
PERISH UNDEAD
BANISH THE OUTERPLANEAR AT NIGHT KNOW NOT DREAD LUTAE IS YOUR SAVIOR
The world over is forever in her debt in each moment and for the many times her Aspects and avatars.Her chant marks most of ther halls and great startoriums. Lutae herself having taken on the perception of a great general and religious leader has a very defined form. The most common we see of her is shaped by the Hazfeni desert people who live under the most brutal baking of her harshest light. Her skin a black as night veil marked by vitallago as white as snow. A unblemished set of the most heavily invested plate armor cracks the ground underneath her stride. Her shield towers over horses and wagons alike. If one is half-giant you may even be able to make out her head, often towers as tall as a storm giants at eighteen to twenty feet tall.
She appears for ceremonies that have been observed for a thousand years, at the head of battles arriving on beams of light that sear massive streaks through enemy ranks, and in the darkest of hours she will bring together her wise collective might and pierce the veil of darkness for a few brief moments. She is unchanging and holds no tolerance for the bending of words. Many clerics have found themselves powerless after attempting to take an easy route. An oathbreaker paladin will be left seared by the harshest light and then any sembelance of magic ripped from their flesh. Massive releases of absurdly powerful magic, glorifying aura's and the most unmoving of aura's and protections span the world over each moment reality persists. May that continue to be so. For without her, I fear even death would turn against us.
The Average Spirit
99% of spirits go fully unnoticed by several lifetimes of mortals. An average spirit fills a mundane role the world may think about little. For example the spirit of a local river, certain dishes of food, breathing, etcetera. These things just barely pass the cusp of collective thought to become real. They can be brought into reality by certain mages and utilized for spellcraft, or maybe even spoken too. Their shapes are often ephemeral and nearly transparent., not unlike ghosts, but without the freezing necrotic energies. They remain uninteresting and of little use to the modern world.
The Sentient Spirit
Self-awareness shapes 0.99% of spirits. Their forms can be physical if the people think of them as such, or not. These spirits begin to have impressive abilities. Thoughts. Perhaps even language. Large swaths of land, common ideas, and shared stories take these forms. The best and most amusing examples are heroes and villains. While not forever important, often a certain person completes a heroic act and then passes onto the afterlife. Yet, it seems, they live a second life. The spread stories of these heroic individuals shape them into a simple being that repeats their acts or carries on a few parts of their will. A great dragon slayer may find their spirit carrying on their anti-draconic will an extra ten or even a hundred years after they pass depending on how many bards tell their tale. It can be absurdly confusing when magical beings become involved as sometimes this law is mixed with their control over spells to partially resurrect themself, empower their spirit, and/or carry out highly intelligent plans. The cases for these are extremely hard to track.
The Laws
Reality is shaped by things all living creatures must experience. These very same things become the most potent spirits. Here a show of spirits is best to help understand them, for they defy words often.
Death
The Spirit of Death. All die, even the immortal fears ending. On Potestatem when one dies it is commonly known your soul is thrust from the central material plane of existence where all things are and to the outer planes, crossing the border of realities.
Over millennia death has become a force that represents this central idea Great battles, the graveyards of Alan, as plagues haunt city streets, the portal of death will loom. At first, the spirit of death appears as a regional change in stimulus. The temperature will lower, the skies grey over, and a general malaise will affect most living creatures. A general grime, filthiness, and rampant stench may begin to thrive in the corner of one's eyes and under the skin. Should death pervade the thoughts of many in a concentrated area death itself will begin to form and roam the given area. Goosebumps roll across the skin and each corner seems to hold a shadow of a person just behind it. Darkness takes a second longer to leave as a torch is light.
And the final sight. The being death. I fear to even write of it without speaking the incantation. O death. May you carry with my soul, my mind. For we know not your breadth. I know nothing of your kind. Take a day, a tenday, one temple passing, but please remove not my mind.
A hole in reality hovers over a mass grave. The screaming soldiers in their piles at a breach in a wall, well held, seem to open a jagged gateway from which all reality can be seen through. The legendary spell of *gate*, taken mind. Bones and a ship await on the other side of death's gate. To guide the soul to the outer plane it earned. Death is a Law spirit with no goal but to guide the transition. Luckily this is true for us. When Alan the black greatwyrm nearly took on the aspect of death, we all saw what happened, the desolation was born, and may the current spirit of death remain as neutral as it is.
Lutae
Our great star Lutae shines over Potestatem and the rest of the system sphere giving us heat and light. Her steady form marks her as stubborn, and sure. Coming for only half of our time she sleeps and rests. Her form dominates the sky when it appears, only blocked by a few nearby celestial objects. Her children. Namely this Law is a unique one in that many Paladins and Clerics have taken to her name. To banish darkness. This has been happening for long enough she has taken on the brutal warrior and leading priest.The chant of her warrior.
PERISH UNDEAD
BANISH THE OUTERPLANEAR AT NIGHT KNOW NOT DREAD LUTAE IS YOUR SAVIOR
The world over is forever in her debt in each moment and for the many times her Aspects and avatars.Her chant marks most of ther halls and great startoriums. Lutae herself having taken on the perception of a great general and religious leader has a very defined form. The most common we see of her is shaped by the Hazfeni desert people who live under the most brutal baking of her harshest light. Her skin a black as night veil marked by vitallago as white as snow. A unblemished set of the most heavily invested plate armor cracks the ground underneath her stride. Her shield towers over horses and wagons alike. If one is half-giant you may even be able to make out her head, often towers as tall as a storm giants at eighteen to twenty feet tall.
She appears for ceremonies that have been observed for a thousand years, at the head of battles arriving on beams of light that sear massive streaks through enemy ranks, and in the darkest of hours she will bring together her wise collective might and pierce the veil of darkness for a few brief moments. She is unchanging and holds no tolerance for the bending of words. Many clerics have found themselves powerless after attempting to take an easy route. An oathbreaker paladin will be left seared by the harshest light and then any sembelance of magic ripped from their flesh. Massive releases of absurdly powerful magic, glorifying aura's and the most unmoving of aura's and protections span the world over each moment reality persists. May that continue to be so. For without her, I fear even death would turn against us.
Type
Metaphysical, Divine
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