Karametra

Karametra is recognized as the serene, maternal god of the harvest, her arms spread wide as she offers bounty to her worshipers or cradles communities in her embrace. Almost every human settlement contains at least a modest shrine to solicit her favor, and she is closely associated with Setessa, the center of her worship.
Wise and even-tempered, Karametra values community, stability, and the balance of nature. She is the god of maternity, family, orphans, domestication, and agriculture, as well as defense of the home and territory.
Karametra appears to mortals as a motherly figure with hair made of ordered rows of leaves that shroud her eyes from view. She is always shown in art (and often seen in Nyx) seated on her throne, which is formed from a tangle of grape vines growing out of a collection of jugs and amphorae that surround her. An elaborately carved wooden canopy extends above her, and a giant sable—her faithful companion—curls around the base of the throne at her feet. In one hand, she holds a harvester’s scythe.
Karametra’s Influence
Karametra governs nature as it comes into play in the lives of mortals, representing domesticated nature—a bounteous, nurturing provider. But she also reminds mortals that they are part of the natural world; they are animals that eat and digest and reproduce and sleep, and Karametra is influential in all of that, as well.
Mortals seek her favor because the fertility of nature is necessary for their existence. It isn’t her wrath they fear—she is not a god of storms or plagues—but her withdrawal. Without her, plants, livestock, families, and communities simply fail to thrive. Her goodwill is a bulwark against both physical starvation and starvation of the spirit: despair, loneliness, and moral weakness.
Karametra promises that spring will always come again, trees will always bear fruit, and flocks will always bear young. Children will always be born, parents will always care for them and be cared for in their turn. Great fortune or adventure might not be at hand, but the little joys of life—the smell of spring blossoms, the sweetness of ripe fruit, the flaming beauty of autumn leaves, the fellowship of community—can be savored.
In many ways, Karametra represents the essence of the divine relationship with mortals: fertility and protection are the nucleus of the aid mortals have always sought from gods, and Karametra doesn’t complicate these basic needs by couching them in terms of abstract ideals of honor or law or justice. She is the distillation of an ancient and primal exchange: mortal devotion in return for divine blessing.
Karametra’s Goals
Karametra doesn’t engage in underhanded politicking or petty disputes. She seems to stand above the quarrels and tumultuous rivalries of other deities, and equally aloof from the machinations of the mortal world. Her fundamental concern is for the well-being of mortal folk, starting with their physical health but also including their need for security, love, and belonging.
Divine Relationships
Karametra might not want to wield power over other gods, but her position of detached compassion lends her significant influence to wield as she chooses. The other gods trust her to be impartial in their disputes and honest about her motivations, and they look to her for wisdom and even sometimes comfort.
Karametra’s closest relationship is with Heliod. He respects her civilized demeanor, and she recognizes the vital role the sun’s brilliance plays in nurturing life.
The relationship between Karametra and Nylea is respectful but strained. Nylea is disappointed by Karametra’s decision, as a nature deity, to subordinate nature to the needs of mortals. Karametra is frustrated by what she sees as Nylea’s refusal to recognize mortal folk—and all their civilizations—as part of the natural world. Despite this tension, both gods encourage their worshipers to leave offerings at each other’s shrines.
The gods who provoke Karametra’s sharpest disdain are Iroas and Mogis, who seem devoted to the idea of preventing mortal life from fully flourishing. War—even if it’s couched in noble terms, as Iroas’s followers like to do—is fundamentally an instrument of death, bringing a premature and pointless end to mortal life. That said, Karametra does recognize the need to fight in defense of one’s life, family, and community when they come under attack, so she and Iroas are able to find some common ground in that matter—and in their shared hatred of Mogis.
Worshiping Karametra
The earth’s fertility is essential for mortal life to continue. Those who live in the modern poleis might not be as aware of that fact as those who farm their own food, but even they long for children, know the pinch of hunger, and feel the turn of the seasons.
Prayers to Karametra focus on asserting Karametra’s constancy and bounty, praising the god’s love and generosity. Worshipers of Karametra gather for a feast once a month, on the evening of the full moon, that celebrates the god’s role in parenthood and community. New parents receive gifts and blessings, and young couples sneak away into the woods in hopes of finding sweet berries and sweeter kisses.