She was his Crone, his wise one, his Mother and Maiden. Like Mother Holle she would always be there at the bottom of his holy well. She was the pure and unadulterated essence of his being. Her fingers snaking along the spine of his back like the all-wise Serpent, holding secrets that were kept just for him. He was always more than willing to partake of her infinite knowledge.
The fire of the Sun was contained in his body. His skin radiated the deep red glow of the sunset and his hair was the mud after the refres
Often a primordial being less human than any of the other gods.
Maker of animals and people.
Often not one of the gods but a less important figure or one that created people as an after thought.
King of the gods.
The most important god often the father of most of the other gods. Usually has many affairs often with humans. (probably because so many kings claim to be descendants of him)
Queen of the gods.
Wife of the king of the gods often mother to many of the gods. Often a goddess of motherhood.
Death personification/Ruler of the underworld.
Never evil. Usually a more complex character sometimes judger of the dead but usually has no role in death itself or any power to dictate who dies when.
Being or group of beings that lead the dead to the after life. They are entirely benevolent, never killers. They are usually portrayed as leading souls that would other wise be lost they are guides and helpful to humans.
Embodiment of w
Ares the War starter,
Loki the Trickster.
Three Gods of mine,
My faith in them can never become undone.
They watch over me, I know they do
You may not believe me, but I know it's true.
I'll teach and tell
The stories of all the realms.
The stories on them.
And all the Gods
Their stories I'll also foretell.
All the ones I know,
And the ones I will learn.
For I thank them so much for the things they have given me,
For the beauty and differences that they be.
They gave me bliss,
Happiness and a path from this.
I may have no job in reality,
But my path is their job for me.
So I work for them
Artemis, Ares and Loki.
Blessed Be to all that read,
May the Gods be with thee.
There is a thrum. A pulse. Something which probes the dark, sensuously, like the hand of an unseen lover. Impish, frisky, a mite playful as the story goes – but such a one feels with the promise of a deeper and more solemn reverence and lust. Despite the raw, primal unshaped potential, there waits on the wings a beauteous promise.
It would be unwise for you to put a finger upon it. Not yet. So deeper, deeper, on and on into darkness’ womb you plunge. You rib along the edges, keeping in check with the long distant throb. Cooled by the moisture, and warmed by the burning fires deep within. Expansion and contraction, you can feel the Cosmos breathe.
Before long this foreign, awesome thrum takes on a whole new life. A heartbeat. A sign of life in the fantastica