The Way of Things
The most consistent element of mythological traditions is the creation myth. Don’t get caught up on wondering which one is correct: They all are. In The World, every myth is true and tangible, and there is no conflict between The World being the back of a giant turtle and also being the clumps of mud stirred up from the sea floor by Izanagi’s staff any more than there is a conflict with light being both a wave and a particle.
There are commonalities in these stories, which form a map to understanding The World. To understand this map, you need to understand the landmarks along the way, and the biggest landmarks are Primordials, vast deities that exist as boiling seas of potentiality. They are creation, not necessarily chaotic, but boundless in potential energy. Where they go, they create existence in their wake.
Throughout history, names have been attached to these fonts of energy: Chaos, Harmony, Light, Darkness — translated into every tongue, each describing a living creature that embodies a concept fundamental to the foundations of reality. Beyond The World, beyond civilization or science, these infinitely vast creatures are the source of everything that is and was and could be. Although they are beyond the walls of our reality, they aren’t some distant and disconnected abstractions – they are around and within us. Our fear of the endless ocean, our urge to make sense of The World around us, our understandings of cause and effect, even linear time and rational space — are all the rumblings of the Primordials passing by us, separated from The World by the width of a daydream.
The footprints that the Primordials leave in their unknowable passage through the Overworld are Titans. To call the Titans children of the Primordials would be an oversimplification — some are literal offspring, but many are byproducts and emanations, echoes of universal forces defining The World. Titans are the shadows that Primordials cast over all of existence.
They’re often the sun, the moon, the wind, the ground — and Titans are rarely changed or persuaded to be other than what they are. Unlike Gods, the masters of aspects of The World, Titans are mastered by the aspect they represent, the balance point on the scale between creation and destruction — they make The World possible and are responsible for all the forces that define it, but it is equally in their nature to destroy. Wind will blow, whether it be to turn a windmill or wreck a ship on the rocks. The wind doesn’t care — it isn’t even aware of the mill or the ship. Titans are aware of humanity, and some even care about mortals, but to them there is no clear difference in importance between mortal life and the rocks and trees. Most don’t hate humanity, they just don’t really understand the point, and it’s for this reason the Gods warred against them.
Gods and Titans are two sides of the same coin, each containing the essence of the universe and balancing creative energies with destructive urges. The distinction lies in their relation to humanity. The Gods don’t need humans, but they do need humanity — not to exist, not to maintain their power, but as a mirror. Human worship is the way by which the Gods know themselves and, without the ability to relate to and sympathize with humanity, the line between God and Titan blurs to the point of vanishing.
Mortals need the Gods to protect them from the mercurial energies of the Titans and the often-sadistic whims of titanspawn, the warped offspring who roam free from the prisons of their forebears. Sheltering in the lee of the deities, humanity inadvertently defines the divine. Every time a mother tells her child a story of the Gods, her words are the timbers that form a retaining wall, defining the boundary between what the God is and what it isn’t. In return, the edifices of a God’s mantle sink deeper into the fertile soil of the human imagination.
Whether they came into being simultaneously or banded together to save themselves from the rising tides of The World, once mortals begin to tell the stories of these Gods living and working together, they change to fit together in a single narrative — a pantheon. The Gods stamp themselves into the mortal World from the outside, making imprints in reality. Those imprints are called Incarnations, aspects of themselves spun through The World as individuals who live and laugh and love as mortals do. Incarnations are one of two ways that Gods can interact with The World without wading through the murky waters of Fate that cover it. The other way are the Scions, the children of the Gods.
The World writes you into its stories — making you meet the same people over and over, making you perform the task written for you in a story, playing the role of your life as a comedy or a tragedy or anything in between. It isn’t mind control; you still make your own choices. But those choices are made in response to certain patterns in your life, and those patterns arise again and again because of Fate unless you make the achingly difficult decision to break with your destiny and do something else (and few do).
Incarnations are still people who live in and walk The World. One God can have many Incarnations, and sometimes the same deity may have three or four different faces, depending on the culture they’re in. Sometimes these Incarnations even come into conflict — just because they are all echoes of the same deity doesn’t mean that they don’t value their individuality.
And sometimes, these Incarnations get a little too involved with mortals and The World that they care for.
Scions are not common — though many Gods are philanderers, most couplings between mortal and divine do not result in birth, and Gods taking the time to adopt and inculcate a proper heir or create life directly is even rarer. Yet sometimes the child gestates, the clay animates, and the thrum of Fate’s spinning wheels drives divinity into the Scion. Though often exceptionally talented, beautiful, and charming, most children of the Gods don’t have the spark that’s needed to become something more.
But some do. When a God takes notice of their offspring, they grant a Visitation, a grand event recasting the profane into the sacred and back again that awakens the nascent Scion to true divinity.
As these Heroes rise in Legend, they inspire worship. This worship may be organized in cults of devoted followers, dedicating their lives to the promotion of their idol. Often it’s more of a general admiration amongst the wider populous. When Fate begins to pulse with the stories of a Hero’s Legend, the Hero becomes less human and more divine.
For some, it stops there — celebrities performing great Deeds, but still ultimately mortal. Others change their cultures forever, a path that leads a Hero to becoming a Demigod. Demigods are the middle point between humanity and the Gods — still possessed of the self-knowledge to allow for a linear existence in The World, but bristling with archetypal energies. The power they wield makes them rivals to all but the most powerful titanspawn and able to go toe-to-toe with Gods and Titans when they band together. Their existence is a balancing act between their mortal life in a World all too easy to bend to their whims, and fulfilling the onus of greatness placed on them by the legend that has built up around them. For those whose path ends as a Demigod, humanity is too dear to give up for a chance at truly divine power.
For a Scion to achieve the Godhead, she must make the ultimate sacrifice. Maintaining a human life is impossible for Gods — only Incarnations can have a meaningful presence in the mortal World. Being in the presence of a God in their true form is not something mortal minds (or spirits, or bodies) can handle. Fate’s pull would be immeasurably stronger on Gods in The World, so in apotheosis the Scion sacrifices her humanity and embraces the elemental forces that have come to define her. As a God, the Scion is known through the Boons they give to The World and through the Purviews they embody.
As Gods, these Scions also Incarnate, allowing them to view The World they left behind and make Scions of their own. Their manifestations in The World are shadows of their true selves, but give them the opportunity to splinter off aspects to grow their Legend and aid their followers. For many, The World is still the center of their existence, and they inculcate all their consciousness into their Incarnations. For others, The World is a barely noticed distraction in the goings-on of the cosmos. But all Gods find a need for Incarnations sooner or later, as even the most distant cannot help but get caught up in Fate sometimes.
There are commonalities in these stories, which form a map to understanding The World. To understand this map, you need to understand the landmarks along the way, and the biggest landmarks are Primordials, vast deities that exist as boiling seas of potentiality. They are creation, not necessarily chaotic, but boundless in potential energy. Where they go, they create existence in their wake.
Throughout history, names have been attached to these fonts of energy: Chaos, Harmony, Light, Darkness — translated into every tongue, each describing a living creature that embodies a concept fundamental to the foundations of reality. Beyond The World, beyond civilization or science, these infinitely vast creatures are the source of everything that is and was and could be. Although they are beyond the walls of our reality, they aren’t some distant and disconnected abstractions – they are around and within us. Our fear of the endless ocean, our urge to make sense of The World around us, our understandings of cause and effect, even linear time and rational space — are all the rumblings of the Primordials passing by us, separated from The World by the width of a daydream.
The footprints that the Primordials leave in their unknowable passage through the Overworld are Titans. To call the Titans children of the Primordials would be an oversimplification — some are literal offspring, but many are byproducts and emanations, echoes of universal forces defining The World. Titans are the shadows that Primordials cast over all of existence.
They’re often the sun, the moon, the wind, the ground — and Titans are rarely changed or persuaded to be other than what they are. Unlike Gods, the masters of aspects of The World, Titans are mastered by the aspect they represent, the balance point on the scale between creation and destruction — they make The World possible and are responsible for all the forces that define it, but it is equally in their nature to destroy. Wind will blow, whether it be to turn a windmill or wreck a ship on the rocks. The wind doesn’t care — it isn’t even aware of the mill or the ship. Titans are aware of humanity, and some even care about mortals, but to them there is no clear difference in importance between mortal life and the rocks and trees. Most don’t hate humanity, they just don’t really understand the point, and it’s for this reason the Gods warred against them.
THE TITANOMACHY
Most religions have some tale of it: a war of the Gods against their cruel and uncaring predecessors. Even for those cultures that prefer tales of rehabilitating or ignoring the monsters at the beginning of time, there exist tales of binding these creatures, locking them away in distant lands or slaying them so they can do no further harm. Today, the majority of the Titans are kept sealed by mystic rituals or enormous prisons, while the free remainders are watched closely for any sign of perfidy.Gods and Titans are two sides of the same coin, each containing the essence of the universe and balancing creative energies with destructive urges. The distinction lies in their relation to humanity. The Gods don’t need humans, but they do need humanity — not to exist, not to maintain their power, but as a mirror. Human worship is the way by which the Gods know themselves and, without the ability to relate to and sympathize with humanity, the line between God and Titan blurs to the point of vanishing.
Mortals need the Gods to protect them from the mercurial energies of the Titans and the often-sadistic whims of titanspawn, the warped offspring who roam free from the prisons of their forebears. Sheltering in the lee of the deities, humanity inadvertently defines the divine. Every time a mother tells her child a story of the Gods, her words are the timbers that form a retaining wall, defining the boundary between what the God is and what it isn’t. In return, the edifices of a God’s mantle sink deeper into the fertile soil of the human imagination.
Whether they came into being simultaneously or banded together to save themselves from the rising tides of The World, once mortals begin to tell the stories of these Gods living and working together, they change to fit together in a single narrative — a pantheon. The Gods stamp themselves into the mortal World from the outside, making imprints in reality. Those imprints are called Incarnations, aspects of themselves spun through The World as individuals who live and laugh and love as mortals do. Incarnations are one of two ways that Gods can interact with The World without wading through the murky waters of Fate that cover it. The other way are the Scions, the children of the Gods.
FATE
Fate is the cosmic force that pulls things in The World towards order.The World writes you into its stories — making you meet the same people over and over, making you perform the task written for you in a story, playing the role of your life as a comedy or a tragedy or anything in between. It isn’t mind control; you still make your own choices. But those choices are made in response to certain patterns in your life, and those patterns arise again and again because of Fate unless you make the achingly difficult decision to break with your destiny and do something else (and few do).
Incarnations are still people who live in and walk The World. One God can have many Incarnations, and sometimes the same deity may have three or four different faces, depending on the culture they’re in. Sometimes these Incarnations even come into conflict — just because they are all echoes of the same deity doesn’t mean that they don’t value their individuality.
And sometimes, these Incarnations get a little too involved with mortals and The World that they care for.
Scions are not common — though many Gods are philanderers, most couplings between mortal and divine do not result in birth, and Gods taking the time to adopt and inculcate a proper heir or create life directly is even rarer. Yet sometimes the child gestates, the clay animates, and the thrum of Fate’s spinning wheels drives divinity into the Scion. Though often exceptionally talented, beautiful, and charming, most children of the Gods don’t have the spark that’s needed to become something more.
But some do. When a God takes notice of their offspring, they grant a Visitation, a grand event recasting the profane into the sacred and back again that awakens the nascent Scion to true divinity.
SCIONS AND THEIR JOURNEY
Scions are halfway between the mortal World and the Overworld, a quintessence of dust with the apprehension of divine nobility. From the moment of their Visitation, Scions face conflicts beyond mortal ken, becoming Heroes in the battles against foul titanspawn and performing Deeds of legendary prowess.As these Heroes rise in Legend, they inspire worship. This worship may be organized in cults of devoted followers, dedicating their lives to the promotion of their idol. Often it’s more of a general admiration amongst the wider populous. When Fate begins to pulse with the stories of a Hero’s Legend, the Hero becomes less human and more divine.
For some, it stops there — celebrities performing great Deeds, but still ultimately mortal. Others change their cultures forever, a path that leads a Hero to becoming a Demigod. Demigods are the middle point between humanity and the Gods — still possessed of the self-knowledge to allow for a linear existence in The World, but bristling with archetypal energies. The power they wield makes them rivals to all but the most powerful titanspawn and able to go toe-to-toe with Gods and Titans when they band together. Their existence is a balancing act between their mortal life in a World all too easy to bend to their whims, and fulfilling the onus of greatness placed on them by the legend that has built up around them. For those whose path ends as a Demigod, humanity is too dear to give up for a chance at truly divine power.
For a Scion to achieve the Godhead, she must make the ultimate sacrifice. Maintaining a human life is impossible for Gods — only Incarnations can have a meaningful presence in the mortal World. Being in the presence of a God in their true form is not something mortal minds (or spirits, or bodies) can handle. Fate’s pull would be immeasurably stronger on Gods in The World, so in apotheosis the Scion sacrifices her humanity and embraces the elemental forces that have come to define her. As a God, the Scion is known through the Boons they give to The World and through the Purviews they embody.
As Gods, these Scions also Incarnate, allowing them to view The World they left behind and make Scions of their own. Their manifestations in The World are shadows of their true selves, but give them the opportunity to splinter off aspects to grow their Legend and aid their followers. For many, The World is still the center of their existence, and they inculcate all their consciousness into their Incarnations. For others, The World is a barely noticed distraction in the goings-on of the cosmos. But all Gods find a need for Incarnations sooner or later, as even the most distant cannot help but get caught up in Fate sometimes.
YOUR WORLD
This section of the book delves into the day-to-day realities of The World. Despite its superficial normalcy and close resemblance to the world you and your fellow players live in, the Storyguide has complete freedom to make changes and create new places in The World without feeling that they might be “deviating from canon.”The World of your Scion games might include major cities and whole countries that don’t exist in the real world, or completely rewrite the nature of The World itself. If the Storyguide wants to say a central African nation escaped European colonialism and the slave trade and lives in a technocratic utopia, or says that the Grecian Amazons colonized an island for themselves when Rome conquered their homeland, that’s perfectly fine. If The World is completely hidden and Scions are part of a vast conspiracy to manipulate the population, awesome. Or you might decide that your characters duke it out in massive, property-destroying brawls in downtown Manhattan. Whatever sounds like the most fun, that’s the right answer.
Similarly, be prepared for Scion’s books to detail parts of The World where people, places, and history deviate strongly from reality. A good story might be found in a fictional neighborhood which could belong to one of many cities, or in a business that only exists thanks to divine interference.
FATEBINDING
A Scion’s actions ripple throughout The World, creating subtle eddies and powerful riptides that ensnare mortals caught in the Scion’s pull. This is Fate at work: the inexorable weaving of a nascent divinity’s mythology. The Gods call the process by which mortals become drawn into the stories of the divine Fatebinding, and many of their greatest triumphs and tragedies can be traced back to it.Fatebindings latch to a Hero and Demigod directly, but tend to attach themselves to a God’s mantle, or their divine oversoul. They act to define a God and how the God’s relationships will play out in the future, which is another reason many Gods are careful to stay in the Overworld (which is devoid of the trappings of Fate, and where they feel the tug of Fatebindings but rarely) and act through intermediaries (like Scions).
Part of the reason the Gods refrain from direct action is because doing so shakes up the ordered destiny of the cosmos, and because it alters the way their divine power might manifest itself in the future (not to mention their very conception of themselves). By embracing this radical change, Gods who interact with their peoples during a crisis can find themselves completely and permanently altered — like what happened to the Òrìshà during the Middle Passage, where their divine identities were warped, shattered, and folded among a half-dozen new divinities.
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