Draghânir: God of Corruption
A man stood silent, filled with grief, forced to watch as mothers and daughters got thrown with steel weights into the pool of a bathhouse, filled with the blood of their brothers and fathers. Their tears pouring, adding salt with hemoglobine and iron in preperation for the ritual. A blasphemous one that fuse remains of the dead with the living, twisting beings into new creatures from beyond this world. He stood there, on the sacrifical ledge. Covered only in ragged black robes and a hood, veiling his skin with the exception of his gnarled old hands and wrists that stretched out from the rope which had him bound like a cross between the two metal spikes. As if it wasn't enough, with each breath he felt the stench of rotten heads that adorned the spikes and enhanced the smell of death and decay within the chamber and it's dark walls, painted red with occult symbols and displayed by dim lightning from infernal lanterns. The chanting of mysticsism had the old one remind himself to keep from baring teeth in vicious hate as his eyes, cloaked underneath the hood, kept scanning the cultists within the room. All blind servants of her. Humans, Draghânids, Taurus. All serving with zeal, such could easily be deduced by their crimson runic brandings that covered faces and naked arms and legs, with the rest of their bodies covered by disgracefully unveiling red and black silken tabards, adorned with chains and bells that rattled in sinister harmony along the cursed tones. In a crack of the whip it went silent as the ceremony started. The hooded figure kept listening to the falling silence when a blade pulled out of it's holster broke the short moment of respite. "By the blood of the tainted." An Incubus said as he pressed the dagger towards the sacrifice's robe. "By the wisdom of his age." The others around now followed suit with the words, albeit one line behind. "By the memories of his life." The old creature felt the dagger sink down towards his back, by the heart. "Let our sisters rise with these gifts, coursing through their veins." "And, by my birthright, let these heretics forever be stripped from my gifts." A soothing voice sung out from the hood and left a draconic grin with fine rows of crystaline teeth to peirce the dark. This little distraction was all he required to change the tide. Only a few seconds of confusion by the words corruptive seed had the servants accidently add his line to their lullaby and stunned the incubus as he lost thread. "Wait, what?" Was all he could afford before the Draghânid found himself held in a chokehold, at the mercy of a dragons claw. He could not help but stare at the bodypart with erupting panic as it did not only belong to what he used to think was an harmless old man, but there was no trace of the rotten away bindings either. On instinct, he looked up while gasping for breath, to see the face of his assailant. Two terrible serpentine orbs fixated a violet light onto him. The colour only grew more intense as a third eye opened up on the creatures forehead. It was soothing, calming, but soon darkened the world around the one squidlike eye. The incubus felt his skin set alight and burn, first he thought it tingled pleasantly, then it got painfull, worse than any pain he felt before, the flames felt like it teared his very skin off, like he was flayed alive. He tried to move, to get out of the engineered sleep-paralysis, but could not. All he could do was scream in the darkness. A scream that was soon silenced by the drumming sound let out by the creature. "I am Draghânir." It echoed a thousand times through his skull, rattling him right out of the paralysis into a state of severe nausea and the feeling of a hundered clubs hammering wildly at him from different directions. His eyes shot open and everything shaked so violently his sight split into four seperate images, all covered in a purple ink. "I condemn you unworthy!" The voice clashed even worse this time and the Draghânid felt his eyes melt within the sockets and pour down his cheeks, yet still he was not robbed vision. "I strip you of my gift!" The words slithered into every little pour and vein of the shreiking and weeping incubus body before he soon lost all his breath. He thought it was finally over, he'd get to die now. He was wrong, terribly wrong. Without warning it happened. Like a plaster swiftly torn from a wound, the corruptive powers was ripped right out of his veins, leaving what used to be an incubus warped back into a human, breathing for air as he lied down a mess of the removed flesh. "No, no it can't be, my beauty, my beauty!" The hunchback screamed as he looked up onto his god. The robe was now outstretched into massive wings that cast an impressive shade on him as the creature gracefully stepped aside with his revealed hoves and razor-like tail, along with the carnage in the background. Allied forces of both Dark and Pure Elves along with Succubi and a smaller dragon had infiltrated and swept the area clean of cultists and now the massive creature waited loyaly by the edge of the pool to cleanse the gore in righteous fire. "Your esteemed excelency, these civilians can still be saved." Draghânir glanced over his shoulder and wing, scanning his ranks to locate the one who had voiced out her thoughts out. He found her quick, a smaller succubus, clad from horn to hoof in chain and plate. "They can be saved, if I turned them. But would they come to accept their new forms?" The god stared into the soul of the hunchback. "Burn them... and make sure -nothing- remains to tell what happened here." He gave a short, troubled nod towards the dragon as it bowed it's scaled neck down towards the pool and breathed out fire. The corpses boiled and sizzled as nothing but blackened bone remain. The Succubus looked up at her master, saddened by his choice, yet understanding. "The pain, fear and sorrow they'd face underneath my wings, no. A wise being once told me, long ago, there are fates worse than death." Draghânir faced the hunchback again and with his tail, he piercied the mans shoulder and forced him up from the cold ground and onto his malformed feet. "With these lives on your mind, I'll give you a simple choice." Draghânir growled before taking a firmer and stoic tone. "Run back to your Witchqueen. In the end, the Occult-Hunters will bring me your skin." Unfolding his wings, he once more fell under the veil of a harmless old man. In the shadow of his dragons destruction, he finished; his voice soft and welcoming. "Inform the inquisition of your ill deeds and I shall forgive you with unrivaled beauty in the next life" He tore his tail out of the wound, leaving a mosquito-like mark as the tail hid beneath the robe again. "Run along, I'll know your choice soon enough."
Divine Domains
Dragânir is often seen as the deity or god of corruption and within it, every sin and bad habit of creatures. Many therefor fail to see the change he represents and that corruption can go both ways, to be either infected or cleansed. This has him often wrongly depicted as a fully malicious. Despite all fear and slander people have been acustomed to tell about this god, they still praise him almighty whenever the warp strikes. Afterall, he is the only one capable of singlehandedly reverse the effects.
Holy Books & Codes
An ancient book, older than Arcathia itself states the forming of a creature that very much resembles Draghânir. However the few lucky to touch it's likes have been confused by the ancient elven translations, "The Son, The Sentient, the Saviour." is briefly mentioned in the book along with the name Draugh-Ânid.
Further reading also states that this creature would "unite their family" against the everlooming darkness and it's master. It is unkown exactly what it means, how or why it's related to Draghânir or if simply he has also corrupt this book to make no sense, because he wants to take revenge on some mortal that tried paint him a fool.
Divine Symbols & Sigils
Many, stricktly illegal, purple mystical runes are associated with the god of corruption and are considered to be his language, also known as draconic. Further symbols of this god are dragons and their fellow, smaller humanoid kin, Dark Elves, Pure Elves, Hornbearers and Drakkarum. These creatures are known as Draghânid's due having been different species, yet altered by warp. It's unsure if Draghânir himself stands for all of these creatures existance, yet researchers on the subject seem to point at natural disasters including the myst and physical world was the father of Drakkarum and Hornbearers, not their god.
Tenets of Faith
The old and new cults of Draghânir have often been seen as sinister, hedonistic and even inhuman with their tenets of faith. Strange enough, both the Dark and Pure elven civilizations grew faster and stronger than most other civilizations by following him.
His _ logical truths are:
-The dimwitted shall be controlled by the bright of mind.
-Feelings shall be supressed by cold logic.
-You shall follow orders no matter what you think of them.
-A lie that brings hope is better than a truth that brings desparity.
-To reject a gift you believe yourself not to deserve, is holy.
-There is no such thing as cheating, only winning or losing.
-If your cause is for others and your heart noble and pure, you are allowed to do whatever it takes to accomplish your goal.
Divine Goals & Aspirations
Ever since his birth, Draghânir has been obsessed with -one- single thing; To preserve the world against forces that would threaten to change it for the worse. These forces do not include nature itself, but rather creatures that somehow have possessed powers that could change the layout of the land, or leaders strong enough to wipe out entire species or create new ones.
Relationships
Divine Classification
Disasterous Deity
Religions
Circumstances of Birth
Draghânir was born a creature within the myst, perhaps as old the physical world itself. The entity was likely manifested by the warp, a violent and chaotic reaction between physical and myst that corrupt their existance.
Birthplace
The Myst
Spouses
Siblings
Children
Current Residence
Crow's Mountains
Eyes
Purple, serpentine eyes with a hidden third, shaped like an octopus.
Skin Tone/Pigmentation
Grayish
Height
2,2m
Weight
240kg
Related Myths
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