The Collector

I think I've mentioned here or elsewhere that I listen to a lot of dungeon synth. It occupies the chunk of musical bandwidth I have leftover when I'm done listening to all the Mongolian throat singing, lo-fi jazz, parody covers, royalty-free rock tracks or themes to anime I've never watched that I hear in the backgrounds of video essays, and whatever TikTok videos my SO sends me.

Dungeon synth has its origins in the harsh and sometimes hateful black metal and dark ambient music scenes of the '90s. But the genre has since grown, matured, and experimented far beyond that to encompass a huge range of subgenres with porous and overlapping margins, as the case eventually is with all types of music. Whether you need to unwind to the sounds of nature, curl up with some tea to some cozy wintery noises, find a soundtrack for your tabletop game tonight, take an inadvisable amount of substances and mentally transcend to outer space, or just be a neurodivergent little boy with a fixation on Tolkien for a while, dungeon synth has a flavor for you.

Recently, I've been listening to a creator called Witch Bolt, who seems to have exploded into existence and popularity all of a sudden after releasing like 7 albums within the span of a few months earlier this year. In fact, in the time I've spent writing this post I had to go back and add that they just released another album.

Witch Bolt is decidedly in the ambient/nature synth subgenre, but each album has a unique flavor that I've thus far enjoyed. I'd say I like them almost as much as DIM, who might be my favorite artist in the scene. Shoutout to Tales Under The Oak and all their froggy excellence, too.

Witch Bolt's most recent second-most-recent album is The Collector, which combines moody soundscapes with some very delicate instrumental touches I keep coming back to.

It's also got a pretty solid album cover.

But I'm not just here to talk about the music. The Collector has a short description attached which, alongside the track titles, turns it into a concept album with a plot of sorts. It reads as follows:

"Witch Bolt's seventh release, The Collector, is the story of a nomadic figure navigating the boundaries that separate the planes of existence. The Collector gathers overlooked fragments of nature and humanity, bestowing upon them a renewed honor and purpose.

Through their mystical craftsmanship, they reveal the inherent dignity concealed within the humble.

The Collector scatters these creations, weapons, armor, treasures, imbued with enchantments across the land and in the paths of those deemed worthy. The Collector is a beacon of hope and renewal."

I was smitten by this concept right away. From playing the part of lonely, wandering god to a being associated with the lucky discovery of magic items, the Collector feels tailor-made to appear in someone's tabletop campaign. Which got me wondering how there aren't more gods like that in existing games where roving adventurers rolling on loot tables in weird and out-of-the-way places is a fundamental pillar of the play experience. Certainly there are hundreds of deities of luck, or craftsmanship, or wanderers, but you almost never get all three of those portfolios in one.

So, I decided to fiddle around and rectify that by doing a little god writeup of my own.

I'm doing this using a fun and flexible format I stole from As the Gods Demand, a system-agnostic and level-less divine magic supplement where anyone can become a cleric. It's by the excellent art-friend and bagel gremlin Charles Ferguson-Avery, and you should definitely check it out if you like more eldritch and inhuman takes on tabletop deities.

But considerably less spooky and severe than them is our friend of the day, the Collector.

The Collector, Beacon of Hope & Renewal

There once lived a quiet, gentle, and very shy thing. Their zest for life was only matched by their unease around other living things. They wished to see the world, but not to be seen. So they wandered in secret, keeping to backroads and the silent gulfs between realms.

But even out there, amidst the beauty of the forgotten and the gracefully crumbling, they still happened upon other souls. They came in search of quiet solitude, a balm for their woes amid a life of hardship and pain. But in seeking out eternal stillness, they stirred that little thing's heart to action. A yearning to help filled them until it threatened to burst, and so they poured it out into the rubble and ruin of that forgotten place.

To their surprise, that tender care imbued the things they touched with strength, dignity, and renewed purpose. Or perhaps, they merely helped bring those innate qualities back up to the surface, through the layers of time and neglect. The wandering thing went about gathering these blessings together, before scattering them in their wake, just ahead of those lost and lonesome souls.

A quiet joy like never before filled them, and they at last knew their own purpose. Even now, the Collector wanders the spheres in search of forgotten things in need of a home, and forgotten beings in need of hope.

The Borrowers

The Collector has no organized clergy, and those who behave as priests would never call themselves such. Instead, they have admirers. People who long ago caught the Collector's eye, and who took notice of them in turn. They see the worth and beauty in what the nomad does, and seek to aid their cause however they can.

So they wander the land as pilgrims and sightseers in search of overlooked places, things, and people. They carry with them the Collector's gifts, knowing that they keep them in their possession only as a passing thing, until the item's true purpose is revealed by time and circumstance. Then, they secret their treasures into the paths of the worthy-in-need. In short they are not keepers, but mere Borrowers.

Initiation: Gifts Left Behind

To become a Borrower, you must first catch the Collector's attention, and then come to the realization that they exist at all. This is easier said than done, considering how discreet and willing to let others take credit for their acts the Collector is. But once that is all said and done, the act of cementing one's friendship with the Collector is quite straightforward: sacrifice something precious.

This item can't merely be powerful, magical, or materially valuable. It must hold great personal significance to you- both you the character, and you the player. It must represent something about your life, experiences, and/or worldview. Family heirlooms, mementos, childhood toys, or tried-and-true pieces of equipment with their own inferred personalities and nicknames are common selections.

You must hide this object in an out-of-the-way but not completely inaccessible location, such as tucked into a hollow in a tree stump off a dirt road, or buried in the earth of a shallow cave mouth. In time the Collector will find your offering and consider it carefully, before imbuing it with new qualities and leaving it in the hands of a future someone who dearly needs it.

You will never know what your sacrifice does for that stranger, and they will never know it was you who aided them. Nor will they ever know the history of this item or the way it was cherished. Instead they will give it a whole new life, and in doing so kindle that beacon of hope and renewal, to be cast into the future in turn.

Such is faith.

Daily Invocation: A Quiet Prayer

• Do not hoard resources or possessions from those in need.
• Maintain humility in the face of gifts and good fortune.
• Do not reveal the Collector's existence to outsiders.
• Live life humbly and surreptitiously.

Initial Miracle: Journey Home

Borrowers are wanderers who have no one place they call home; rather, home is wherever they are most needed.

You may divine the location of the nearest forgotten little thing. The miracle can specifically look for an abandoned location like a ruin, old den, or shrine, a long-lost object, or a lonesome creature, or it can look for any/all of the above. You know the direction and distance to your target "as the crow flies", but not the exact path needed to reach it, such as through a maze.

Rites

I Pass

Sometimes, we are what the Collector places in the paths of others.

You must stop wandering long enough to help someone through a particularly dark time in their life. Merely rescuing them from a dangerous situation is not enough; you must come to know them and their struggles, befriend them, and help them to rise above their hardships. Then you must let go, and allow the friendship to conclude so that you each may return to your respective lives. When you bid farewell to one another with finality and carry with you all the bittersweet memories and experiences into the future, the rite is complete.

Miracle: In Praise of Gentleness

You may sooth the target's woes, removing all natural or supernatural fear, doubt, anger, or other negative emotions from them and replacing them with a contemplative calm that grants the target Advantage on their next Saving Throw related to the mind, emotions, mental state, etc.

You may instead target two or more groups who are about to come to blows with this miracle, in which case they are dissuaded from physical violence for a number of hours equal to your Hit Dice.

Wandering Artisan

In emulation of our foulweather benefactor, we furnish the worthy in need with the fruit of our sweat, labor, and love.

You must craft an object of surpassing quality for one of your skill level; if you are a novice at a given craft it must be competent, if you're a master it must be exceedingly high quality, if creating magic items is well within your ability it must be truly extraordinary, etc. This step may take months or more by itself, and call for you to find and obtain rare materials.

Once it is completed, the item must be anonymously donated to a worthy cause or person whom you believe will use it for good. You must be present to witness them doing so, but may not betray the item's origins while in their company. The rite is complete when the bearer of your gift accomplishes (or at least tries their best at) a feat that aligns with the Collector's goals.

Miracle: Treasures Left

You may spend some of the goodwill you've earned with the Collector to receive a short "advance" of sorts on their gifts. Choose Providence or Luck:

Providence allows you to stumble upon just the sort of mundane or low-magic item you'd need in a given encounter for a specific purpose, such as a healing potion to save a downed companion or a replacement weapon for one that's snapped. The item lasts until it is consumed or the encounter ends, at which point it vanishes when you take your eyes off it.

Luck allows you to reroll once on a random loot table and take whichever option you prefer. Note that the referee doesn't have to disclose everything about the two choices (curses, specific magical effects, etc).

Extremist/Heretical Rite: Humble Harvest

These are the Collector's gifts. They are given, but never earned. If someone abuses them, is it not our duty to intercede?

You must dispense with the Collector's gentle discretion for a time, and take the fight to those who would take advantage of their kindness. This person must be a tyrant of some sort who has enriched or empowered themselves using magical items that ultimately came from the Collector. Merely defeating them is not enough; you must see their every means of effecting evil systematically dismantled and neutralized.

You must personally disenchant or destroy the misused item(s) in their presence while explaining to them precisely how powerless and wrong they are. Once the former tyrant is thoroughly broken and made an example of, the rite is complete. Whether or not they can be convinced to make amends is outside the scope of this rite.

Miracle: Desolation

You may permanently snuff out all enchantments and effects on a single item held by the target, rendering it a completely nonmagical object. If the item is a powerful artifact (or other object of huge plot significance that would cause your referee a real headache to destroy just like that), its powers are instead suppressed for a number of weeks equal to your Hit Dice.

Favor: Honored Things

• Encourage others to give and share resources freely.
• Disperse ill-gotten hoards, with force if necessary.
• Undermine those who deny others peace and dignity.
• Pass another object of great value on to the Collector.

Slag & Scale

It is known how the God at the Forge created the Sun: by complete accident.

When the Trickster wished to give the smith a gift to express its love for them, it did not know how, because it could not express anything. Deceit and concealment was so ingrained in its ways that it could not even tell a truth it wanted to share. So the Trickster fell back on old habits and presented to the God at the Forge a lump of the world's worst, most impure ore. The Trickster then dared the god to create anything of beauty out of it, teasing them and doubting their abilities as a child might the person they fancy.

The God at the Forge was insulted, for pride in the craft was their insurmountable nature. So they accepted the challenge, and set straight to work. They took the lump of ore to their forge and heated it a thousand-thousand times over, in a fire a thousand times brighter and hotter than the smith had ever stoked before. So bright and hot was the forge that all the other gods and creatures of the Rift shied away and fled to the twilit places- all but the Trickster, who watched the smith work in teary-eyed awe.

The Trickster beheld as the god at their bellows began to melt away the outer layers of the ore. Molten slag flowed like rivers and cooled into mountains, yet that vexing lump of ore remained undiminished; still impure. The smith's anger burned as hot as the forge, nearly melting it to the firmament. The god finally lashed out and sent the slag crashing to their feet, before stomping away and brooding over what next to do.

The Trickster also watched as some of that discarded slag began to move. Shattered crags picked themselves up and brushed off the smaller, crumbly bits of their fellows with stumpy, blunt limbs. They looked around with eyeless heads, and soon trundled or toddled away in fear at the sound of their creator's loud grumbling.

When the ore proved too stubborn, the smith pulled it out of the forge and laid it upon their anvil in the grip of their great and immovable tongs. If all the impurities would not melt out, then they would hammer them out. The smith deliberated at length, and finally took up one of their 6,842 hammers with which to begin the Great Folding.

For a length of time that would come to be called a year, the god hammered at the lump of ore. Every swing lit the Rift with showers of sparks, and shook the gulfs to their depths. The ore was beaten and shaped, tortured and purified, until the lesser metals were dragged screaming to the surface and smote.

The Trickster watched as those flakes of hammerscale rained upon the anvil like storms-yet-to-be, only to be swept away by the calloused hand of the God at the Forge. The flakes danced and shivered like black snowflakes as they fell, twisting in the heated air currents until they landed upon spindly little arms and legs. Jagged and pointy, these diminutive creatures did not flee in fear from their creator so quickly.

But just as the smith ignored the gawking Trickster, so too did they ignore the growing audience at their feet. They seized upon the progress they made, bringing the hammer down faster and harder until their arm was a blur, and their work reached a fever pitch.

When it did, they broke their hammer upon the lump of ore and ignited something deep within it. A spark unlike any other, that grew and grew to absorb the entire sphere with a brilliance that not even the smith could withstand. So they hurled it away into the darkness, where it caught in the empty void and erupted into its full glory.

At that, the little scales yipped and fled in fear. All the gods of the Rift came to look in awe at the newborn Sun. Without a doubt, it was the greatest thing of beauty the God at the Forge had ever made. Even the dust and the dregs of the Rift thought so, and began to dance around the Sun in ever greater crowds.

But the story of how the worlds were wedded together is for another time.

For now, the God at the Forge stood and basked in the warmth of their creation, and the accolades of their fellows. They waited, proud and imperious, for the Trickster to come before them and declare its challenge met. But the Trickster did not. The Trickster could not. All it could do was conceal the ache in its heart as it stole away to darker parts, where the smith's beauty did not burn so brightly, and the laughter of gods was not so loud.

There, in the dark and quiet, the Trickster found that it was not so alone. It found there, huddled and frightened, the little bits of slag and hammerscale that the smith had cast off and forgotten in their work. They were as children without a parent, in a Rift that was no longer what it once was. Yet they were sharp and rough to look upon, beautiful like lead, cruel to the touch and clumsy in all ways. The haughty gods of the Rift would never even notice them, let alone deign to welcome them in.

And so the Trickster reached out its long arms, and gathered the slag and scales up in spindly hands that could only steal the belongings of others. And then it closed its mouth so full of lies long enough to tenderly kiss them upon their jagged little heads. And then in a voice too quiet to hear it admitted that yes, the God at the Forge had made something beautiful indeed.

That, child, is why you should always treat with respect the things we might call waste: you never know when they might hold the guarded love of the Trickster.

Or perhaps that is just another lie, meant to put fidgeting children to bed. Now go to sleep.

Orc God Generator

(Format borrowed from TLN.)

It is well-known that the gods hate orcs. It is equally famous that orcs hate the gods, and will spite them in a variety of ways ranging from risky death-bargaining to outright annihilation. What is less well-known is the character of those gods, who are so often lost as individuals among the laughing, mocking throng.

They may be uniformly wicked and inspiring of misotheism, but they are not generic and dull. Each hates different things, and in different ways and intensities, and knowing their differences is essential to surviving any dealings with them- or better yet, avoiding them altogether.

D2 Modus Operandi

1. Brutally Cunning

2. Cunningly Brutal

D4 Power Level

1. Godling

2. Lesser Power

3. Greater Power

4. Ineffable

D6 Wakefulness

1. Profane Dormition. Often sleeps through both day & night.

2. Listless. Sleeps regularly during the day. Occasionally naps at night.

3. Average Sleeper. No more or less active than an ordinary hateful godhead.

4. Fitful Slumber. Awakens briefly and at random during the day.

5. Insomniac. Regularly stays awake well past high noon.

6. Blear-Eyed Sentinel. Always watching. Always waiting.

D8 Hostility Level

1. Cold Indifference

2. Wry Schadenfreude

3. Naked Disgust

4. Violent Opposition

5. Ruthless Bellicosity

6. Gleeful Sadism

7. Omnicidal Malice

8. Yes

D10 Manifests as...

1. Humanoid Avatar

2. Graven Idol

3. Meteor Shower

4. Image of their Symbol

5. Voices on the Wind

6. A Hole in Existence

7. Invisible yet Palpable Presence

8. Roiling Orb of…

1. Blood

2. Fire

3. Shadows

4. Limbs & Animal Parts

5. Light in an Alien Color

6. Rusting Metal Fragments

9. Sacred Animal

1. Musk Ox

2. Spitting Lizard

3. Buzzard

4. Hyena

5. Blood Wasp

6. Dire Zood

10. Natural Disaster

1. Thunderstorm

2. Earthquake

3. Tornado

4. Flood

5. Insect Plague

6. Wildfire

D12 Craves

1. Widespread Fear

2. Grief & Depression

3. Toppling of the Mighty

4. Cessation of Existence

5. Upended Hierarchies

6. Grinding Oppression

7. Pointless Cruelty

8. Desecration of Holy Sites (except their own)

9. Savage Conquest

10. Insidious Betrayal

11. Transgressed Taboos

12. Breaking of Friendships

13. Excessive Sacrifices of...

1. Blood

2. Bones

3. Raw Flesh

4. Fat & Sinews

5. Yet-Living Things

6. Wealth (i.e., Skulls)

D12 Despises

1. Contemptible Weakness

2. Enviable Strength

3. Foolishness

4. Excessive Cleverness

5. Humility

6. Pride

7. Social Mores

8. Peacetime

9. Gentle, Painless Deaths

10. Loyalty (except to them)

11. Priests (including their own)

12. Moderation

D20 Domain*

1. Death

2. Dying

3. Fecundity

4. Famine

5. Disease

6. Opulence

7. Flames

8. Beasts

9. Hope (Lies)

10. Darkness

11. Blinding Light

12. Manipulation

13. Strength

14. Artifice

15. Sky

16. Cunning

17. Earth

18. Non-Orcs (this deity is everyone’s problem)

19. Roll for 2 domains, ignoring 19s or 20s.

20. Roll for 3 domains, ignoring 19s or 20s.

*Note: There is no “War” domain because that is a given for all gods here.

D100 Quirks

1. Recently lost a ton of followers by conversion to another god who said they were their friend, and is feeling very insecure right now.

2. Doesn’t actually exist in between encounters. The god is destroyed and created anew out of the ether every day.

3. Does not actually exist, at all, ever. The god is just a collective hallucination created by a very aggressive strain of ergot.

4. Always has the juiciest gossip on the other gods.

5. Was so frustrated at the “chicken or the egg” dilemma that they ate the metaphysical concepts of both, and that’s why chickens are a type of mythical creature now.

6. Gained the power to return from the dead by seeding a portion of their power among several unkillable orcish champions and indestructible artifacts. Orc-cruxes, if you will.

7. Constantly sends minions and other challenges to test its most faithful. Emaciated from lack of prayer as a result.

8. Is an amortist- they don’t believe in the existence of mortals.

9. Will only accept sacrifices that have been stolen from other deities.

10. Designed that misbegotten, pig-headed variety of orcs as a sick joke.

11. Requires that an idol of their likeness be given a high office among its followers. The actual, mortal holder of office ritually marries the idol and acts in the deity’s stead as their “spouse”.

12. Has a skin condition that causes them to regularly slough off divine abominations that terrorize the world.

13. Determines its mortal champions by arm-wrestling contest. The deity’s current champion is an unassuming wimp with a killer wrist technique.

14. Invented that loud, discordant new type of music that young people listen to, and despises monotheists for giving credit to their own devils.

15. Spent most of its energy sending a prophet down to spread the True Word centuries ago, but the prophet promptly died in obscurity.

16. Regularly organizes massively corrupt competitions between the gods and their champions.

17. Cheated like hell in a recent deific competition and still managed to lose.

18. Enjoys swapping their sacred relics and ancient artifacts out for mundane junk at random.

19. Insists that tusks were their invention and contribution to the orcish species, and encourages their followers to elaborately decorate their own. Massive, impractical prostheses and extensions abound.

20. Their mind flutters unraveling in their wake, like a fraying scarf whose threads are magic and dementia.

21. Never gives a good omen without pairing it with an awkward, uncomfortable, and utterly mundane revelation for the recipient to deal with.

22. Was once killed and torn apart to create the world and/or heavenly sphere. May or may not have since gotten better.

23. Poses as a Great Old One or Outer God to seem more edgy.

24. Is a major proponent of the “you are what you eat” proverb. Followers have decimated the local wolf population.

25. Looks upon mortals with the same confused, out-of-touch disdain that rich people afford the poor.

26. Rips a permanent tear in the fabric of reality wherever it manifests.

27. Missing an eye or limb, either literally or metaphysically. Blames another god for losing it.

28. Only accepts prayer delivered in the form of aggressive yodeling.

29. Slowly subsumes their high-priest’s identity until they become a deific vessel.

30. Secretly created the orcs and instigated their torment in the hope that they will someday bring about the end of all things, gods included.

31. Every millennium the deity tries to manifest a child into the world. The mountain-sized godling is invariably stillborn, and it soon petrifies into a new piece of topography.

32. Could probably be convinced to start acting nice ironically.

33. Is recently deceased, but not all of its facets and emanations know that yet.

34. Keeps mutating living things, including their own followers, into crabs.

35. Is said to lie waiting and dreaming at the bottom of a shifting, maze-like dungeon Below an island.

36. Perceives the world through inverted senses. They unknowingly punish that which they try to reward, and vice versa.

37. Is even more hungry for sacrifice than most gods. There is a wave of famine and a food desert growing in the wake of their cult.

38. Actually a hyper-powerful wizard pretending to be a deity.

39. Really is a deity, but pretending to be a powerful wizard pretending to be a deity as part of a long con.

40. Inevitably drives all their priests insane with their endless rambling about how the world is a four-sided cube that experiences four simultaneous days.

41. Granted magic to mortals to spite another deity.

42. Is on the run from their own followers, who want to capture them and use them as a divine battery.

43. May or may not currently haunt the moon.

44. Too bestial and non-sapient to communicate directly with mortals.

45. Too eldritch and hyper-intelligent to communicate directly with mortals.

46. Originally a non-orc deity, expelled from their old pantheon out of petty shame.

1. Goblin

2. Swamp Dwarf

3. Ogre Flea

4. Graft-Elf

5. Mer-Maggot

6. Night-Wind Ghoul

47. Was originally the god of a city-state, but then the city got gentrified and the whole cult was priced out of the area.

48. May be soothed and appeased by awful puns.

49. Turns anyone who rejects their amorous advances into an animal. This does not necessarily mean the advances stop.

50. Has a distressing number of demi-god children.

51. Guards an ancient, cursed city- not for any especially nefarious reason, but because they don’t want anyone to see the city’s murals that depict the deity in their awkward teen centuries.

52. Sends most of its divine blessings and punishments to a completely different plane of existence by accident.

53. Spreads its cult via memetic information that can infect a mortal just by sight or sound.

54. Genuinely cares about the orcs and their plight, but hides their pity because an even greater cosmic force than the gods would punish it severely.

55. Accidentally created trolls and goblins by mashing together and splitting up orc prototypes. Humans were created when ████████████████████████████.

56. Completely unrelated to all other dogma, the god holds that the world is actually an egg that will soon hatch.

57. Recently misplaced its afterlife and all the souls therein.

58. Demands agonizing personal sacrifices of their followers before telling them it was ‘just a joke’ at the last possible second.

59. This god’s totem animal is somewhat less fierce than others.

1. Sugar glider

2. Pika

3. Mola mola

4. Juvenile pangolin

5. Extra-fluffy silk moth

6. Tree frog the size of a pinhead

60. Has an exact twin. Both are enraged by being confused with the other.

61. Has a polar opposite twin whom they hate. They’re both equally nasty though.

62. Is agitating for a good old fashioned god-war and is looking for a pantheon to challenge.

63. Occasionally answers prayers with the message “we have been trying to reach you about your chariot’s extended warranty”.

64. Shapes reality as an elaborate form of fanfiction.

65. Carries an entire civilization inside their vacant mind.

66. Presently exists somewhere as a small, squid-faced worm in the care of a mannequin.

67. Is infatuated with another deity and expresses that attraction immaturely through childish pestering and meanness- this takes the form of continent-swallowing religious wars on the material plane.

68. Knows the location of a hidden tree that bears the sour fruit of immortality. They already ate them all, though.

69. Demands that its image be spread far and wide- urban worshipers have made the deity and their symbols popular subjects of graffiti.

70. Is the fusion of two separate gods with similar-enough portfolios that they were conflated by mortals. They are in constant agony, and are actively looking for a way to split themself apart.

71. Fills their followers with an irrational urge to find a way to punch the moon.

72. Currently operates out of their cosmic parent’s stomach after the latter tried some things to avoid a prophecy being fulfilled.

73. Formerly a demon from another pantheon who went freelance and made it bigtime.

74. Is weakened by prayer, and diverts those energies into exploitable proxies.

75. Gains strength from the hatred and anti-prayers directed at it.

76. Is easily offended, but instead of smiting people they just get very passive-aggressive.

77. Never got the memo that spikes of villainy are out of style.

78. Has hypnotist-priests who control the minds of large groups of people to pray to the deity briefly. The affected have no memory of the event, and are often confused to find themselves kneeling in a circle.

79. May always be appeased by offerings of sweet things- honey, candied fruit, orphans, sugar, etc.

80. Recently agreed to worshiper-swap with another deity. Neither sect approves.

81. Locked in combat or a game of wits with another deity right now and will send most prayers to divine voicemail. Please leave a message after the mocking cackle.

82. Seems to have recently split into multiple personalities that each jockey for dominance.

83. Everyone within a hundred miles of their point of manifestation tastes orange for a week- the color, not the fruit.

84. Regularly grants mighty, albeit temporary boons to the absolutely most wretched, pathetic, and lowest of the low just for the laughs.

85. May or may not be the figurehead of a religious pyramid scheme.

86. Always manifests alongside a distinctive, often distorted leitmotif.

87. Recently struck out on a solo career to create a monotheistic faith and is considered to have sold out by most other gods.

88. Has just now suffered a major setback and is much weaker than usual.

89. Has just succeeded over a rival and is much stronger than usual.

90. Really doesn’t enjoy or “get” the whole blood sacrifice thing, but goes along with it for appearances.

91. Invented the orcish double-axe as a sick joke. They still can’t believe how far it went.

92. Sends blessings via a winged messenger. No post on weekends.

93. Was born when a conspiracy concocted by maltheistic ur-priests got a little out of hand.

94. Invests a secret police force of their priests with considerable abilities in stealth, miracles, and psychic powers. Nothing is more damning than sending Thoughts & Prayers after someone.

95. Has gone catatonic from hunger and won’t stop gibbering about a spider.

96. No one has ever heard of this god before just now- are you sure you didn’t just make them up?

97. Is so bemusingly average for a cruel, distant god that they have no Quirk.

98. Changes so dramatically in between appearances that this entire generator must be rerolled before their next appearance.

99. Actually just one part of a conjoined triumvirate of gods. Use the god generator two more times, ignoring rerolls of this Quirk.

100. This god’s away on business.