The Imperatrix Elnoyle

The Imperatrix, formerly known as The Raven Queen, ascended in the War in Heaven. With their worship and newfound power, they sought to take the power of The Moon. At this time, they ascended beyond their prior form, and used this power to assume control over a variety of domains lost by others during the War in Heaven. She sought power over all souls, so they could be used by her means to influence the many people across the universe. She sought memory, so better to learn about all adherents, and make adjustments where needed. And she retained full dominion over The Shadowfell, where she is able to keep track over the grey things of the realms.
Among mortals, The Imperatrix is seen as a being of mixed intentions. She is kind yet repentant; strict and unyielding, yet one of almost sickly kindness and compassion. She is generally worshiped by those who hold on to memories, especially of family and loved ones. She is also frequently called upon by adherents who have troubles with undeath, or those who wish to make contact with ghosts and other forms of spirits. Her adherents tend to be stern and solemn in their beliefs, worshiping her both for her safety, her grace, and also perhaps a little bit of fear of a life that lies beyond this one.
The Imperatrix is particularly popular with Dragonborn, who carry strong emotions toward memory and family heritage. Gnomes also appreciate her, as her ascendancy alongside that of Custodia seems to have bolstered the magical qualities of Vandle. Finally, elves seek the Imperatrix's guidance, as she helps guides their souls from life to death and back through reincarnation, while also managing the care of their memories.

Divine Domains

Souls, Memory, Spirits, and the Shadowfell.

Mental characteristics

Personal history

"Greetings, to all in attendance. Thank you for coming on this fine occasion. You are among exquisite company, as you are exquisite souls. And yet the most exquisite of us all must be introduced. I beg that you all bow, curtsy, or take a knee upon my pronouncement and the opening of the portal. Those with an audience shall be brought forward upon your time. Thus, to all esteemed guests and loyal adherents, and with my humble investiture, I present: The Imperatrix Elnoyle, Queen of Ravens, Light of the Night, Nonpareil of The Passage, Matriarch of the Shadowfell."
The room takes a knee. A great, powerful woman enters the cavernous, cold castle. An avatar of gods. A chill runs through your spine. She looked at you. You felt it, even though your head was lowered and your arms strained behind your back in chains. You hear a unified shuffle of clothing and scraping of shoes upon hard stone as people associate themselves appropriately, genuflecting, appraising.
Click, clack, click, clack, click, clack, go the immaculate heels. Scroff, scruff, clack. A faint sound of satin rests upon pillow. No breath fills the room.
"You may rise."
"Thank you, your lady. Shalt you say anything for us on this beautiful day?"
There is a pause. A long, deafening pause. It's happening. You feel it. The cold, the ugly chill. It falls on you, that gaze. That gaze that twists your eyes. You daren't look. Not today, not now. And yet it draws you. Like a nail upon your chin. It digs into you, bloodily, as if it pulls your very bones towards its presence. You swallow your spit and gasp against your will. Your breath comes out as steam. Cold.
Why... why is it so quiet. You can hear the person next to you. Their heart beats. You hear it. It's almost as loud as you. Drum, drum drum. Why is it so loud? Please, someone stop drumming.
She breathed. You heard it. You felt it. It was cold
"How the days linger on. How they amble. And how they grow increasingly ridden with the strife of those who lack strength. We are here today for justice. For sincerity. For... honesty. I'm sure we are all good little children, even after all that has happened.
And yet. There are those here who may not agree with us. They shall be given our most welcoming and heartfelt gratitude. And hopefully, for the kindness paid to them, then will respond in kind. They will be... honest with us. They will speak truth to us. About what they did, and what they mean to do. Certainly we do not wish an imposition on anyone of this realm. And yet, if they so impose... we cannot forget our cause to this world. And yet to more, we cannot forget that one day, there will be a reckoning. A redemption. And if we are not strong, if we do not take stock of ourselves and our place in this beautiful realm, all will be for folly."
You want to vomit. You cough, and someone strikes you on the back of the head before thrusting a handkerchief upon your mouth. That gaze.
"We were not redeemed. There is nothing to redeem from. There is only anarchy, and nothing more. And what a fool's errand we all had the strength to endure, despite all that it caused us, despite all of our hardships. We are here today to remember those hardships. And to find truth. Then so it is. A toast: to truth."
The hall chanted "To truth" like a cult. You hear the sipping of wines. The handkerchief was removed. You gasp. You lick your lips. You taste blood from your brow. Wine. It drips.
"Delicious." You hear a pop of lips, and a lick of tongue. "I am told I have a request of audience, Viatica."
"You do not. I have found who was requested."
"Are they rended? Did they live a full and happy life?"
You cry.
"Indeed."
"A lucky soul. Marshal, if you please."
"As per the commandment of The Imperatrix Elnoyle, we call upon a one Ristal Gambienne, conspirator."
No, why you first? You could not move. And yet you were being move, forced to your feet. They pushed you. You could not move. They pushed you again and sneered in your ear to move. You limply walked forward, head shoegazed, trotting forward. The man pulls on your wrists. You're supposed to stop here. The hall is upon you. Her gaze is upon you.
"Are you Ristal Gambienne?" calls the marshal. "Are you Ristal Gambienne? Boy we do not have time for antics here, speak your name."
"No. Give them time," her chilling voice boomed.
"I... I am Ristal Gambienne..." you mutter, barely utterable.
The marshal speaks, "Ristal Gambienne, you are accounted for this audience for high crimes against this throne's domain. You are accused of aiding and abetting usurpers in destroying Rakuen and all of Realmspace, and attempting to overthrow the peace of the Second Halcyon."
"I'M NOT GUILTY!" you screamed. You looked up. You wish you had not. She is looking directly into your eyes. You feel the warmth leave you. You feel a pain in your head. You want to grip your head, if only you could grip your head. You resist the chains, but they are solid upon your wrists.
"Mister Gambienne, this is not a court. We are not accounting your crimes; we are proclaiming them... nevertheless, you aided those that do not seek the maintenance of The Drift. You aided those that seek irregularity. You aided those that support anarchy."
"I did not! I did not do those thing! I helped people. I aided them. They were heroes. They were meant to fix the world and they did."
"They. Did. Not." She spoke, slowly. You felt every sylable, and every single one ruined you.
"PLEASE! I BEG OF YOU. I DID NOTHING WRONG. I DID WHAT WAS GOOD. PLEASE, DON'T DO THIS."
"Talrina, you have guided this one before, have you not?"
"My vision is hazy. But assembly so."
"What of their past? What lives have they lived? Do you deem them worthy? Do you see them, personally, as not but a tool, or not but a fool? Were they simply led astray? Or is there a pattern to be witnessed?"
IN ONE LIFE, A MURDERER. MATRICIDE. SLITTING THE THROAT OF THEIR OWN MOTHER AND RUNNING AWAY TO JOIN A BAND OF FREAKS TO HIDE IN THE MOUNTAINS, FEASTING UPON GOATS THEY STOLE FROM THE VALLEY. IN ANOTHER LIFE, THEY DROWNED THEMSELVES IN FINE WINES, LOSING THEIR TWO SONS AND THREE DAUGHTERS TO DISMISSIVENESS. IN YET ANOTHER, THEY MURDERED ORCS. 432 LIVES BY THEIR HAND, IN THE BRUTAL WARS. THEY PRAISED THE DISEASE THE RUINS ORCISH SOULS TO THIS DAY.
"There is not a good track-record. Murderer, matricide, alcoholic. Dismissive to children. Mass murder of orcs. I am under the opinion that one life will not be like the last... but, there seems to be a persistence of general dismissiveness of others lives. And lack of compassion."
"I see. How intriguing."
"The Redeemer was necessary! Rakuen is destined for destruction! This was a holy crusade, Caelia be willing. Oh please..." You drop to your knees, hands clasped. "Please Caelia, please hear my please."
"You are in darkness this day, boy. Her light will not reach you here."
You begin to weep.
"Nacht? You have been so obedient. It is not like you."
"WHAT DO YOU WISH? I'M BORED!"
"What would you have of this morsel?"
"MORSEL, MORSEL. I WOULD LOVE TO CRUNCH THEIR BONES. CAN I?"
"Not right now."
"THIS IS A STUPID PARTY."
"Hush, my fang."
"BUT I'M HUNGRY."
"Then him."
"My liege..." calls a servant from the other side of the room, aghast."
"TRULY?"
"Have your fill."
"My liege!"
"MY LUNCH!"
The sounds cursed you. You cried through the gore.
"You asked to be present, Mal. What are your thoughts?"
You look up. The Maledictorian looks to you. "Misguided. I trusted you, little one."
"I still serve you, unerringly."
"And yet you erred."
The Imperatrix grinned. Please, not that. "And Cimmerian? How bashful you are."
"You know my opinion. This is theatre, and it's thoroughly entertaining, but I am only here because Unmei told me to be nice."
"But surely you would like to explain that of the Eternal to the kind mortals and immortals in attendance."
"Fuck you're obnoxious. I speak from high, or whatever. The Redeemer released Sin, and we are all worse for it. A life for a life means little to us. But this life, I give as much of a fuck about as I do a nose-hair. I'm sure that will appropriately reflect my previous statements and those of your superiors."
The Imperatrix clicked her lips. You would laugh if you weren't so terrified.
"Very well. Away with you."
"About gods-damned time. Too-da-loo!" The shadow escaped into the darkness.
"Evil gods, aiding and abetting. You have a lot on your plate, little one. Talrina, do you have a way to deal with ugly souls such as this? Souls that are beyond redemption?"
"That is not something that I do personally. But if they drift too far and get lost, it is no longer my problem."
"How tiresome. Well, I have ways. I have ways of stripping you clean, little one. But service, service is always a method of reform. Your little god says things like that yes? What shall you choose: service or penitence?"
This can't be happening. You can't stop crying. This can't be happening. This isn't fair. You didn't know what they were capable of. They were good people. They needed help. You did what you could and... and...
"THIS ISN'T FAIR! This is folly! You are the corrupted one! You are as corrupt as Sin themself! You are so high on your throne, high and mighty and chilled, that you can't see what comes with change. You resist it. You conservative, you inflexible hag! Your damp loins should not dictate lives like this. You don't know anything! You are a fool and you have done nothing but kill to reach your status."
You spoke it. If they are going to put you through this kangaroo court, you might as well speak the truth. And yet you feel a menance. The entire room loathes you. Like a temperature in the wind, you feel the resentment upon you. You are hated for helping.
"How courageous. Beautifully spoken." she says, as the room calmly, quietly applauds. "And also how impudent. You know nothing of anarchy, child. But I have ways."
"Ah-hem..." the god of reincarnation chimed.
"I did not ask your opinion, soul-tamer."
"I do not disagree with you, and you are my superior. But I wish you would reconsider this. You know all that has happened. I question whether this is worth it, whether this is worth it. Everything that has happened has changed us all. I will not deride you. But I ask that you consider. I understand that he needs punishment, but not in that manner. There are other means than that."
"NEVER!" you screamed.
"He has been reborn many times. He has, by your judgement, only done awful things. Why does he deserve redemption?"
The god of reincarnation thinks. You pray as you hear their voice lilt.
"Everyone in my eyes deserve redemption. But people are impressionable. Mortals are easily influenced, by the place they are, and the hands they are dealt. Though they have free will, there are still options. If you put people in the right place, they can become anything you want them to be."
"Food. Perhaps Nacht was correct."
"FOR ME?"
"Not this time. This one, this one is meant for something worse. Pain and torment."
You felt your limbs crack, first your legs, then your arms. You wiggled your arms, and you were free of your shackles, arms turned before you body. They were both limp, boneless. You screamed in pain.
"Suffering, agony, and then, food. Delicious and nutritious. Just what a young cub needs."
"PRAISE THE REDEEMER!" you screamed. "YOU FOOLS! PRAISE HIS NAME! PRAISE HIS DEEDS! HE WILL GUIDE US TO HEAVEN."
"I live in heaven, child. It's not as beautiful as you think."
You suddenly feel nothing. As if you ascended your body. You only see the ceiling and the guard behind you. You feel weightless. Ah... your spine. That makes sense.
Click, clack, click, clack, click, clack, go the immaculate heels. Scroff, scruff, clack.
"I know just what to do with you."
You scream, but your mouth does not work. You try to look away from that gaze, but your eyes do not move. You try to run, but your limbs are untethered. And then you fade to blackness, and see only more... more green. Green. No...
This is sinful.

Divine Classification

God