Abraxas

[Umbra of Chaos]

Abraxas

“If part of the system fails, it must be replaced, and the prayer-glutted gods did nothing to save us.”

Abraxas is the land of fallen and dead gods. In a time of insurrection, when the district faced destruction, its people called out but did not receive salvation. Amidst the chaos a silver haired tyrant rebelled and struck down their masters. Now it is a place of towering idols rooted in the still twitching corpses of their rotting deities. Demiurges walk its lands, the new kings who cracked open the bones of their lords and feasted on the marrow.

Their major commodities are idols. Personal, false gods that channel faith in order to create artificial miracles. Why pray to those distant divinities? Your belief is powerful enough to sate them. Why not use it for yourself? While incomparable to the grand totems that exist within the district, they are nonetheless powerful. Families can safeguard their homes even from supernatural plagues, communities can ensure plentiful harvests, personal ones even provide good luck to individuals. However, the district has also diversified into weaponized idols. They channel the faith of the fanatical into supernatural displays as astonishing as magic, and anyone can learn to use it even if they lack natural talent. All that Abraxas asks is a small tithe of the faith that runs through your totem, and through these tithes they form a great network of faith and power.


Profane and Heretical:

The gods of old have been shattered, and a new land has been constructed atop their still warm bodies. Faith has been torn open and restructured into the profits of power and the energy of belief. There is no free faith here, and ambitious spirits who have attempted to perform miracles free of charge soon find themselves enslaved. The very relationship between man and god has been twisted. Those unaware of that fact find that the faith they receive comes with interest and expected returns with egregious punishments.

Ancient and New:

Abraxas is a place of dissonance. Temples have been converted into business centers, and the new architecture leans towards a brutalist technique more fond of efficient space and blocky concrete. However, the most noticeable factors are the great bodies that make up the largest structures. These corpses have had nearly every last dreg of power wrung from their bodies. Most are hollow skeletons with modern architecture built into them. Elevators lead up the spine of a mountain deity while the earth around a fertility goddess bones serves as an industrial farm with wondrous productivity. The most wealthy inhabitants are split between these glorious temples, new structures, and repurposes gods.

Dead but Not Forgotten:

Certain in their victory, the demiurges believe Abraxas absolute. But there are still remnants and echoes. They cannot be called the true gods, not even a ghost, but there is still power there. Curses of hatred, final blessings, and wishes that were not allowed to be born. Those powerful in the mystic arts can find what remains if they are clever, and if they are careful enough they may remain uncaught by the Abraxian guard as well. But the fingerprints left by the divine are not always helpful...


The Baleful Silver

The district chief and its glorious king. His bones are polished moonsilver, his fur coats were torn from the wild gods’ flesh and still writhe, and his body is still stained in their multicolored ichor. Laughing exultantly, he holds court in an observatory carved from the carcass of the moon goddess who he slayed. The whole of her body was reconstructed to form a citadel of alien beauty. It looks as if it was carved from the moon’s face, and even gravity’s hold is less strained there. Even in the light of day, the stars and moon can clearly be seen from this place. However, he only answers petitions in the night.

He is known to receive citizens and foreigners alike within his halls. Silver does not discriminate. So long as the deal is good, he is willing to offer his assistance. But those that fail to uphold the end of their bargain earn a fair reward as well. The gods may have been fools, but their curses are nothing to scoff at either. Still, more than a few have walked home happy with their lives. He did not get to where he was by only being cruel, after all.

As a foe he is a terrible foe to face. At night, he feels almost unassailable. His bones burn with power that makes his strength and agility nothing less than Fantastic, and his bones are sturdier still at Heroic. Worse than that is the divine blood that still drips from him. Long since immune, he still laughs as he flicks the ichor onto his foes. They carry with them all the curses and condemnations of the murdered gods. While never permanent--these echoes have long since lost that stability--they are undeniably strong. Those weak in spirit or body find themselves transformed entirely into monsters or misshapen creatures with a drop. More powerful foes can have a sense taken from them for a time. Others have even noted their physicality waning with these dreadful maladies. For others, it is a vile poison that causes the flesh to burn, or petrify, or slough off. None of these alone are fatal. These remnants are also only strong enough to inflict one malady at a time upon hapless foes. However, they are certainly dangerous. Worst of all is the authority that he wields himself, the protean strength of the moon overflows in his body. He calls forth lunar tides, silver waters that can break the bones of beings with similar durability or sweep them off their feet. In combat he wields a scimitar made of starlight, and his bones bend as if they were barely there at all. But what else could one expect when confronting him in the heart of his power?

But in the day or outside of his observatory, the story is different. The blood no longer drips, the furs no longer writhe, and his shining bones seem dull. If one looks closely enough, they could even see a phantom of human skin that clings to this corpse. His curses have no strength to muster in this state, and his body is no longer quite as limber either. Even the power of the moon he so carelessly wields wanes now. But perhaps he has merely exchanged that frightening strength for a more certain one. In his hands is a halberd nearly rusted through. Yet it cuts, cuts through steel, and magic, and divine flesh alike. The laughing king is replaced by a warrior of unrelenting discipline. Only a truly masterful fighter could approach him and not feel their imminent death in every step they take. But it is true that he is undeniably lesser than the nigh immortal monster that rules the observatory’s night.

Ullmina, Demiurge of Comfort

Spoiler for Hiden:

Many in the district know her as the one who guides spirituality within the district. While the gods are dead, it does not mean the people have nothing to believe in. Furthermore, she specializes in the art of absolution and spiritual comfort. By bonding with an individual, she can take on the darkness within their souls. In return, they come to understand the depths of their sin. Even a man born without a shred of emotion can come to understand her feelings through this method.  Repentant criminals throw themselves at her feet, begging for the bliss of absolution. This wondrous purity has left Ullmina with an army of fanatics, those who her light has brought salvation to. While not as powerful as the Abraxian Guard, they make up a frightening cult who are the foremost in idol research and weapons development. Their faith is like a hammer. Fire and brimstone can rain down on their enemies like artillery fire, but they are rendered largely immobile because of their idol and their need for spotters.

Little of this is relevant to Ullmina, former priestess of the fell god. Those who know of her history remember a cruel and unforgiving woman, and it is impossible to reconcile her with the kind saint who pursues the worst cases to offer forgiveness. It is hard to tell if her motives are purely benign, especially since even disregarding her cult her acts only seem to have made her grow in strength. Her physical characteristics are Incredible, but she wields power that has been kept secret from most. The feelings of the twisted souls she bonds with do not disappear. Imprinted onto her being is the howling madness of an ocean of sinners, and when threatened she is more than willing to call forth this legion. For most supernaturals, their only threat comes in sheer fanaticism and numbers as they rarely exceed Exceptional stats. The true danger comes from Ullmina herself and the broken god she had forgiven a lifetime ago. Wielding its power she is akin to a divine spellcaster, unleashing magic in the Very High range with reckless abandon to smite her enemies. Buildings crumble into salt, hordes of insects devour flesh harder than stone, vengeful lightning shatters the scales of dragons. Knowing these characteristics, The Baneful Silver raised her to ruler of the day. In his weakness she governs the land. However, she seems less concerned with conflict and more with unrelenting forgiveness. She still manages the everyday business well enough. Despite her kindness, Ullmina has never shown the ability to heal.


The Abraxian Guard:

Local to the district, these forces are entirely defensive in nature. They are the police and military bound up into one, and they are a fearful sight to behold. Masked in silver, they ride legendary beasts throughout the district wielding quicksilver rifles. They patrol in pairs of two or three, and exclusive idols are used to provide communications through prayer across the district. Even a beast that could shatter walls, withstand bullets, and lunge at enemies swifter than a bird of prey would find itself completely overwhelmed. However, their numbers are few. They are only called when it is necessary. The idols of the district’s communities are usually enough to provide a defense. However, they cannot pursue their foes. Their control over the beasts is artificially caused by idols. If they were to leave the district’s radius, the beasts would revert into mere monsters and surely tear them apart as well.

Idol Guardians:

Generally in the Incredible range, these creatures are gestated by communities within the district as protectors and helpers. They wield elemental powers, usually to calm the raging elements, but also help with farming and construction. Some also show the power to heal, and idols of health are common in hospitals to accelerate healing and deal with surgeries.  Particularly faithful individuals use them as guardian angels, using their personal idols to call forth their defender. Old enough ones can become stronger and theoretically generate personalities, but this is a rare and suppressed phenomenon.


Notable Areas

Residential Temples:

The old places of worship have been repurposed to house families and communities. Idols are commonplace to the point where one can’t pass a street without at least seeing a few. Not all are powerful enough to create Guardians, but it wouldn’t be strange to see one or two after walking around long enough. The weather is almost always temperate unless it needs to rain. The people live in peace, and those born today do not remember the times when men made offerings of blood to beg for prosperity.

Unless widespread damage is caused, not much should be expected besides Guardian Idols. At worst any normal conflict will be resolved by the Abraxian Guard.

Fortune’s Idol:

A tower that stretches into the sky, this casino was created by a god of luck. Now he has been cut to pieces. Each chunk of his body was hammered into an idol that now facilitates the many games within. While there are traditional games to play, there is also betting on numerous gladiatorial sports and more esoteric sport. Demiurges and sorcerers play games of adventure at the towers heights, partaking of a repository of memories. They live an adventure stored within bargaining with their own soul’s power. Those who do the best partake of their fellows’ bets.

The internal staff usually solve the problems of the casino. The idols can inflict powerful curses on those who cheat within the games themselves. Outright violence is usually handled by the patrons. Generally, they are more of a threat the higher up one goes. Many individuals from throughout the Nexus do enjoy its services, after all. It could quickly grow far more dangerous than even the worst a residential response can offer.

Crumbling Ruin:

Largely undefended, the fully drained corpses of many gods are littered on the district’s outskirts. Few were powerful enough to create demiurges, and there simply were not enough lesser gods to fuel a new pseudo-pantheon of humans. Those who failed to acquire enough divine power to ascend burnt out in this place amongst the corpses. Any power left here is largely symbolic, although there may be enough life left to draw out a few secrets. Still, there are monsters and other creatures that may have holed up here. Within the hollowed out skeletons of deities and amidst what remains of would-be demiurges, there are always scavengers.