Gender: Favors Male
Alignment: Lawful Neutral, though the law he serves is his own.
God Appearance:
Personality: Ragon was born from jagged rock and oozing primordial sludge. As he tells it, it was his blood that spilled forth into the mud and his breath that lingered in the air. The former took shape with claws, teeth, and a great hunger. It laid eyes on the later, a lesser creature birthed with no such gifts. Natural selection played out before the newborn God, and in it he saw great wonder. Perfection, a cycle that would stay strong throughout countless eons. The ancient God would be sure of this, as he claimed the sole duty of being it's vanguard. Ragon claims to be the first God, calling himself the Primordial because of this. While there is no evidence to support this, there's none to deny it either. As far as the memories of Gods goes, Ragon has simply just always been there, with no knowledge of a time before him. One thing is certain, no matter how domestic or docile, no matter how pretty or peaceful, Ragon can bring about the savage instinct and will to survive in any beast. In that respect, they are all his children.
Bound to his own guidelines of survival and instinct, prey and predator, Ragon acts as beastial and wild as the domain he claims.Whereas some are keen to keep their emotions and true intents to themselves, Ragon is as his children are. He hides nothing. His threatening stance, twitching tail, hissing snarls, and soul-crushing eyes, they all show exactly how he feels. Secrets are simply illogical to him. Of the Gods he hates, he makes it well known. Of the Gods he lusts over, well..... Animal instinct is as it is. Though mostly his views of his brothers and sisters is that of confusion or contempt. Many of them lead their mortals to tame the world around them, and further upset the Primal Order Ragon had founded so long ago. More often than not he keeps to himself, snarling and hissing from his corner of the world. He cares not for the kingdoms founded by his kin, as their land has become tamed and tainted. He waits for the time when the forces of nature will reclaim what once was beautiful, and the Great Circle turns once again.
Ragon is stuck in his ways and has absolutely no interest in changing. Obsessed with his ideals of the cycle, the order of predator, prey, and their relation to the Earth. Everything has purpose, meaning, a reason to be. Every function or aspect on every animal serves to help survival. What else could be important? Perhaps that is what he hates so much about mortals or indeed his kin. Their constant wants and desires for things that have no purpose. In the end, he waits to see the wilds once again retake the lands the humans so twist. When once again Man is forced to flee from the predators of the ancient world. On that day, Ragon will only grin and bellow a spiteful laughter. Some may call Ragon an evil God, but this isn't true. He is neither good nor evil. He is simply what is, what was, and what, in his mind, should always be. The balance persists, the Primal Order is maintained, and The Great Circle turns.....
He is not a God of death, war, bloodshed, or conquest, and thus has no interest in such things. He is, however, wrathful and easy to anger. Challengers are met with brutal retaliation, and he welcomes all those who seek to take his lands, for they make excellent hunting.
There are things which anger the Beast-Father more than anything. Captivity is chief among them. Those that would tame his creations, to break their wills and make them docile, they reserve the greatest of Ragon's hatred. Only once has he known what it is to not be free, when first he lay in a cradle of muck and Earth. Never would he be held again. Ragon sunders the cage, snaps the leash, and breaks the chain. Freedom and survival are the same thing in Ragon's mind, for while a blade can mean the death of the body, a leash means the death of the soul. This hatred does go beyond his animals, as those who make slaves of other humans are equally his enemies. Of the few humans who pray to Ragon, slaves often ask him for freedom. Ragon does not give them any key to their bonds, but instead the will to free themselves.
Despite all, Ragon is not always a wrathful deity, for it is only humans who bring out the rage within him. Left to his own devices, within the confines of his great rainforest, Ragon knows of both peace and beauty. Of herbivores and carnivores, he favors neither. He can not take sides, for that would upset the balance. Both are made strong by him, the plant eater having the same odds to escape as the meat eater to feed. Vegetation is abundant, no fighting for territory needed for the herbivores. They feel safety in numbers, and indeed the smaller ones take shelter with the larger ones. An herbivore need only worry about breeding rights and surviving those that hunt them. The life of a carnivore is one of struggle. Food is often difficult to attain, and constantly contested over. Larger predators eat the smaller ones. Territory wars occur frequently. Packs constantly weed out the weaklings from their ranks, lest they drag all down with them. The herds are thinned on both sides, as they must be. A lesson he can never expect most of his siblings to understand, and of those that do are never in the favor of the Primal Order.
He is not, however, without a blessing to bestow. In your darkest hour, in the greatest need, when all that matters is survival or vengeance, pray to the Chain-Breaker for the strength of his children. Ragon does not grant men with physical strength, as his brother Braun does, but strength of will. He riles their spirits and sets their hearts aflame, giving them a boundless well of willpower the likes of which could shatter mountains. The sheer, raw determination to do whatever it takes. Whether to live, to be free, or to fight, Ragon's Gift is to unleash the unrestrained drive hidden within every living creature. It is as a wounded animal, backed into a corner. It will never submit. It will growl and roar, gnashing fangs and swiping with claws. Fighting with everything it has, and more. Fighting well past what should have been it's limit, past when it's body should have given up. It is dauntless, knowing no fear or pain. If ever you've heard tale of a man going berzerk, becoming wild and savage, it is likely the work of Ragon. Such raging warriors have been known to bite out chunks of flesh from their foes, charge through volleys of arrows, or indeed even push up the shafts of spears to kill it's wielder. Ragon gives the strength to live or kill by any means.
Opinion on Gods: Will add to this later
God’s Domain:
The realm of Ragon is a mirror image of the land of his birth, his home built atop the hole he crawled out of. Ragewood Forest as the mortals call it, a land forgotten by time and home to the greatest monsters of myth and legend. No mortals aside from the Ah'Chagi may ever wish to lay claim here, less they earn the ire of the most savage of Gods. In Ragon's realm, it matches this massive rainforest and dense, dark jungle for every stone and leaf. Ragon's influence spills over into the Mortal world from here. Gracing beast and sometimes man with his divine savagery. Sometimes he may even poses his children as to further insight his will, to test the hunters of the Ah'Chagi and to repel those who tread where they aren't welcome.
Ragon roams his realm as but a ghost to it's material counterpart, the invisible hand guiding unseen devices. Though some may catch quick glances of his shadow, the glint of his animalistic eyes, he appears only to those he wishes. Sometimes as a manifestation of himself, others as only a voice in one's mind. Though more often than not he is in the skin of an animal or the flair of instinct warning you of what is to come. The trees grow at his command, the mountains tremble at his call, everything within these woods heeds his words. In times of war the army of Ragon is not the humans who dwell here but the beasts who truly call this massive rainforest home. Ragon is highly protective of Ragewood, and as such never truly leaves it unattended.
Ragewood Forest is a manifestation of how Ragon sees our world should be. It's a dark and unforgiving place, where only those who can fight to their last for survival can exist. The thick canopies are completely enveloping in some places, blocking out the sun entirely. Twisted, thorned vines drape down from the mighty branches of elder trees in curtains of thick green. The trees are alive with the more agile and noisy of Ragon's makings, while patrolling the forest floor are those with nothing to fear. This is the kingdom of all great animals, the pinnacles of evolution, the purest of Ragon's children. No army has ever dared to dream of invading these woods, but Ragon welcomes any to try......
In the Hall of Gods, Ragon sits not on some glorified chair, something idolized by the monkeys, but instead on proof of his abilities as a hunter. Stretching out his form atop a massive and ever-growing pile of bones from hunts long since passed. Luxeries and beauties mean noothing to him, and he fails to see their value to others as well. Though in the end, his bone-lounge means nothing in comparison to his real seat of power.
This ephemeral stone disk is the Great Circle, the very balance of nature as it is. The symbolic force guiding the relationship between predator, prey, and the world around them. No item is as dear to Ragon as this, having spent several ages crafting it to what it is now. That is why, when not in use, Ragon keeps this phantom rock inside him. Swallowing it as a breath and exhaling it with the same ease.
The Avatar of Ragon is not limited to one mere mortal, for it is a title and position rather than required duty. To be His Avatar, one must show that they are a beast trapped within human skin, and Ragon's greatest gift to them is to abandon the body of Man when they so choose, to take life anew as an timeless creature of legend.
Fogrimm Rage-Born
The first Avatar of Ragon was the first mortal to show that humans had any hope of earning his favor. In a time not long after the start of Man's Empire, when few if any humans even knew of a God of Beasts, Ragon lay sleeping within his great wilderness. Something roused the slumbering God, and he began to stir to the smell of blood and the beat of a raging and mighty heart. A sole man, held by a chained wrist, captive to bandits and barbarians. These filth took shelter close to the borders of Ragewood, a mistake the Beast-Father would quickly remedy had their prisoner not earned his eye. He was but a man, of lowly birth but of strong body. His heart knew not fear, for there was no room. His mate was killed before him, and in his prison such sorrow became fuel for a primal fire, a writhing hatred unseen by Ragon in any before. This man, this mortal wanted nothing more than revenge, and held no boundaries on how to attain it. So much so that he began to pull with all his might against his shackles, and continued to pull even after what began to give way was not the iron chain, but the flesh and bone of his own arm.
He pulled and twist with all his being, howling in rage and agony, till at last he could simply pull no more. The leash had broken his will with but a few sinews left to hold him, but Ragon would not have this. He wanted to see more, to see a man embrace the will of a true animal, to know the fire that burned within all those truly free. The coals still lay hot, and Ragon's hand merely needed to stir them once again. The chain was shattered, the last strands of meat tore away, and Fogrimm was free. Free to take his vengeance upon his captors. With a bloody roar and inhuman ferocity, he tore them asunder with claw and teeth. Baptized into a life untamed, Fogrimm had shed away the faux of human civility and embraced the Beast-Father's, his Father's rule. So was born the first Avatar of Ragon.
It was not long after that many began to follow, and in time they lived by the test of Ragon's paradise, the fight for survival and the price of true freedom. The Ah'Chagi were formed. Many years came and went, and the Fogrimm did live to his name. His fire burned bright for nearly three lifetimes before it began to fade. When the embers only smoldered, and Fogrimms rage had finally left him, he looked to his Father for one wish. He could no longer live in a lie of skin and flesh, no longer wear the mask of a man, but to live in the peace he'd seen in some of Ragon's makings. The Primordial indeed held no love for any human, but Fogrimm was no longer such in His eyes. He was indeed Ragon's child, and had lived in the captivity of being something he was not for many long years.
The Rage-Born no more, Ragon fulfilled the Fogrimms wishes. He was made into a beast worthy of the impact he left, a species which to this day all Ah'Chagi hold sacred. One that knows no true predator and lives true to his Avatar's stature. The Coastal Shelled-Goliath. To this day he lives on as the greatest of them all, and true to Ragon's word, he knows only peace. This was one of the first creatures Ragon ever made that was meant for the sea, having bartered for the blessing of his brother Ulmo. They carry the might of the Fogrimm, and are sworn to defend the kingdoms of Beast or Sea should they so be called.
N'hakii The Den-Mother
One of the first daughters of the Ah'Chagi, born 7 winters after the Fogrimm had left them, N'hakii was born strong and enduring, as all her people were. Where in the tribe, it was most common that the females would take care of the tribe. Only a few of them proved they could hunt, and N'hakii was determined to be among them. Though she but a young girl, and one of small stature at that, no taller then five-five. Repeatedly, her right was denied to her, till finally she could bear no more. Desperate to prove she could survive in the Ragewood better than any man, she vowed to leave her people for ten days and nights, with no tools, weapons, food, or indeed even clothing. None had ever stayed alone in the dense jungle for so long, let alone with nothing to protect them. Still she left, and in this act of rebellion, Ragon recognised that she sought to break bindings of a different sort. Just as the chain had binded Fogrimm before her, these customs sought to shackle her as well. Ragon watched with waiting eyes as day and night passed, watched her as she hunted the prey and fled the predator.
When she held doubt, Ragon would test her spirit. When she hungered, He saw her challenged. When she would rest, He made sure she stayed alert. When she returned, Ragon made sure she was freed, for no one would question the Avatar of the Beast-Father. She had succeeded in breaking the chains which bound her, she showed the strength needed to survive, she had lived as any of Ragon's children, and she did it all simply to be free. She was as worthy of the title as the man who once stood before her. As the second Avatar, she quickly earned the title of Den-Mother, for ironically she did tend to take care of the others of the tribe. However, the title also referred to the fang and claw she showed when she hunted or fought. It was told to be as a mother wolf fighting for her pups, there were no limits to her wrath. In the tribe, she did take heart to those like her, but she did not nurse or coddle the weak. She instead taught them to be strong, how to fight or aid those who can. Even those who couldn't hunt could still pull their weight.
Her time among the creatures of Ragewood had taught her much, and she earned the loyalty of several of them. It was she who prayed and promised Ragon to never take the freedom of his children away, but to form kinship with them. It was from this pact that the caretakers came into being. She taught of how to bribe the Roe with sweetnuts and fruits to watch over their camps, the Roe's alert eyes and ears watching over them and their screeching howls warning them of danger. She showed how to milk the mother Albalis for when the hunts were scarce. Eventually her teachings led to the Beast Riders of the Kar'skani Tribe. Where as Fogrimm Rage-Born was responsible for the start of the Ah'Chagi, it was N'hakii the Den-Mother who made them a true people, with a culture they hold sacred today. Sadly, she held her place as Ragon's Avatar for only a few short years.
The followers of Ragon, the Ah'Chagi people, were not immune to War amongst themselves. War is not human nature, for all animals war for space and food. Human nature is to war for useless things. Nevertheless, Ragon may dislike when His beasts spill pointless blood, but the humans are not His children. If they seek to weaken themselves in His unforgiving paradise, then so be it. Though when an adversary came from the sands of the West with the intent to conquer, Ragon took notice. They came with torches, spears, and nets. They came to take and capture. They came for slaves. As true to Ragon, the R'kasni, the tribe made by His own Avatar, fought to the death rather than be taken. All but her, the Den-Mother. N'hakii had been out on the hunt when the raid happened, only to return to horror. In her sadness, her grief, she pleaded to her Father for greater strength. She pleaded that she could hunt these men for all her days. Ragon listened, and granted her wish. This is why the Wargs stalk the grasslands of the West now, guarding Ragewood from those of the West. She is our Den-Mother, and she watches over us still.
Avatar Name: Culgroth Half-Man
Personality: WIP
Magic Abilities:
Animal Aspects- Culgroth was granted the gifts of several of Ragon's children. He possesses claws that are as sharp as iron, and teeth meant to tear meat. His skin is as a thick hide, equal to a course leather. A bolstered musculature allows him inhuman speed and might, the strength of five full-grown men. His eyes are as keen as a bird of prey, able to see clearly over vast distances or in the darkest of nights. His skin picks up on the movements of air around him, giving him a close-range radar of sorts. Of course, one would first have to get past his senses of smell and hearing, which is better than most canines.
Primal Roar- Channeling the very aspect of Ragon into a deafening howl, Culgroth inspires a fear in those around him on an instinctual level. He reminds Man that they are a prey species, that there once was a time when they feared the many beasts of the world. Most of all, he reminds them that they are sheep, who stand before an Alpha Predator. This fear can only be resisted by those with a direct link to divinity. No matter how great the magic, how brave the heart, how stalwart the soul, they shall all flee blindly in a mad panic. The weak shall part, leaving only the Avatars of Gods to stand before him.
Will of the Wilds- All Ah'Chagi have deep reserves of willpower, the ability to resist fear and even some magic. Magic, for mortals, is the effort of enforcing one's will upon existence. To that respect, Willpower is everything, the strength to cast greater spells or to fight them off. Culgroth possesses a nearly boundless reserve of willpower, able to ignore pain and injury and is completely immune to fear. In all the world, only a small handful of beings can claim to rival him. He is quite skilled at spellcraft, able to smite his foes with fire and lightning, but his most impressive aspect is his ability to resist the effects of spells. He is, infact, not only immune to magics which would control him, but can cause them to backfire on the caster. He can not be controlled, and any who would try will find their eyes bleeding and their wills crushed by the untameable might of Ragon himself.
The Truth Beneath the Skin- The Last Gift of Ragon, the abandoning of the lie and embrace of that which an Avatar truly is. A wild and free animal, trapped within a human body. This power is one used at the end of an Avatar's service, becoming a Legendary Creature, the Primarch to a new breed of Ragon's Children. They live out their still-timeless lives knowing what it is to be truly free. Whether by the path of the Fogrimm, a peaceful existence in the body of a majestic beast, or the path of the Den-Mother, to live beside Father Ragon as a hunting hound, this is the end of all Avatars. Once accepted, none who are chosen truly ever wish to return to humanity.
Hero: Khorin Fo'khan, Scourge of Man.
Rank/Reason: Tes'han Khi (Head Holy Warrior of Ragon)
Personality:The descendant of the mighty Rage-Born, the Fogrimm who first earned the gift of Ragon, Khorin is the ideal aspect of the Ah'Chagi warrior. Long he has hoped to gain the eye of Ragon as his great Grandfather had done, but never will he question the Beast-Father. kKhorin is like a cold fire, blackened embers on the outside barely holding the waiting flames within. Combat stokes the inferno, and Khorin is most at home when he is tested for survival. He believes himself to be the perfect champion of Ragon, a hunter with no equal. Indeed, there is some truth to his words, for no other Ah'Chagi can best him in combat. He is the Scourge of Man, the Slayer of Knights, and the Bane of the Western Foe. He pays tribute to the Rage-Born in many ways, and is indeed a pinnacle of Man in the untamed wilds, but he does this for glory. He does it to prove he is the child of Fogrimm, not simply for the sake of survival. This is why Ragon looks elsewhere for His chosen.
Khorin enters combat with only a small machete-like blade and his chitin armor. He makes use of the weapons of his slain enemies, and is told of as being nearly super-human in his prowess. His body is marked with scars, yet no foe has ever touched his skin with a blade. Khorin does this himself to mark each battle he has won. His strength, agility, and instincts make him a feared combatant in the field, as his acrobatic skill allows him to deftly avoid the attacks of any lesser man. His ability to stalk silently as lead to the death of many scouts and even assassins, and his keen eye and swift hand nearly always finds the throats of more heavily armored foes. To put it bluntly, facing Khorin in the jungles is a death sentence. Any mere human will scarcely ever see him, nigh ever come close to hitting him, and never escape him.
Hero: Noxx'tou the Headhunter.
Rank/Reason: Kesh-Rha'Ki (Head Military Chaplain/Warrior Priest)
Personality: Of the only beastfolk who serve Ragon, Noxx'tou seeks his lords forgiveness for the betrayal of the Sithis-uhr. Noxx'tou leads the tribe of the S'ha-naku, the priests of Ragon. They are the holy priests, the keepers of shrines and the main defenders from the forces of the outside world. Noxx'tou is quite aloof, mysterious and rather dead-pan. He does not relish in fighting, nor thrill of hunt. He simply does as his Lord would have him and enforces that others do the same. He is a gifted user of spells of trickery and deception, though has sworn to only use them against the foes of the Ah'Chagi people. He is often in a stern and heated rivalry with Khorin, one wanting to prove his skill while the other merely wishes to please Ragon. Noxx'tou is known as the Headhunter because he has claimed the duty of hunting down all who are unwelcomed in Ragewood, and slaying any his God commands. Collecting their skulls to present to Ragon, in further attempts to tempt His forgiveness of the beastfolk.
Noxx'tou is a satyr, one of the few to live in the Ragewood. He wields arcane magic and two massive swords in combat, where his speed, reaping swings, and mystic arts are used to demoralize the enemy. Of course, he is well known for severing the heads of enemy commanders and leaving the corpse for others to find. He is an assassin, a messenger, and a weapon of fear. He spreads the rumors of Ghosts in the Ragewood and the many curses of Ragon. Noxx'tou often charges his foe with great seed and a multitude of magical decoys, often leaving them to swing away at fakes until they leave an opening. Then, in that one instance of weakness, Noxx'tou beheads them with a single stroke.
Heores:K'hansii the Wolf-Daughter
Terrain Preference: The Ah'Chagi are different from men in that they adapt to the land, rather than adapt the land to them. They can be at home anywhere, preferring those places where the taint of civilization can not reach. Their home is, however, the Ragewoods. The massive rainforest covers nearly a thousand miles, containing dense jungles, marches, swamplands, high peaks, low plains, great mountains, and coastal edges. Backed by the ocean, the coast is dotted with tropical lagoons and small islands. The North-West leads into the Golden Plains, a waving ocean of grass that slowly recedes into the Shifting Desert. The Eastern arm snakes out into the grassy planes, bordering on the lands of several different civilizations. Many tell stories of the Ragewood being an accused place, where only monsters and savages dwell.
Name of Kingdom/Empire: The Ah'Chagi have no Empire or Kingdom. They simply live.
Capital: Kah-Ah'Chag/The Primordial Cradle.
The closest thing the savages of the Ragewood have to a capitol. Mostly comprised of tree villages, the whole populace is built around a large pit, what they refer to as The Primordial Cradle. They believe it to be the Birth Place of their God, Ragon. A gigantic tree grows out from the center, with leaves of blood red. Each tribe as a Longhouse built on the sides of this tree, with it's branches being a sacred meeting place to pay worship to the Beast-Father. This tree was the start of Ragewood Forest, growing from the very hole Ragon crawled out of when the world was born. No place is more sacred to the Ah'Chagi, and as such it is guarded fiercely. No matter disputes among clans, all will heed the call to defend Kah-Ah'Chag in times of war. This is the ancient home of the Fo'khan, the children of the Fogrimm and the first Ah'Chagi. They are the fiercest warriors in all of the tribes, though the fewest. Sharing their home with people from the other tribes limits their expansion, though each Fo'khan is said to have the souls of beasts, worth their stones in warriors of lesser tribes. Khorin Fo'khan gives proof to this.
Major Cities: Give a few major cities in your lands.
Society: (what is it like to live amongst your people? Are they friendly? Hostile? (Give at least 1 paragraph worth of description) you can use the titles below for guidance).
[People]
[Economy]
[Politics]
Other: What else do you want to tell us?