Mortals thought being a god had to be the easiest thing in the world. Sure there are responsibilities that come with being a god, but all in all you would be free to do whatever you wanted and have infinite power. Hah, being a god was little better than being a slave in a gilded cage. Resil knew this better than most as he had been both. Gods came into being in seemingly a myriad of ways, an honored elder who dies becomes an honored departed who's funeral rites evolve into rituals to honor an ancestor and in time become rites to worship a god. Or a famed King institutes a policy to post mortem deify rulers, or a story is believed in enough that it becomes a truth.
To be believed in was to be defined and what mortals did not know were that gods had rules. Usually gods had to be confined to the divine plane unless they were summoned or had a compelling enough reason or anchor to keep them in another plane, they were unable to directly tell their worshipers everything that they knew if they were in conflict with another god's adherents. And since Mortals worshiped multiple gods in general and almost always were in some kind of conflict that made it practically impossible to communicate without using vague visions and prophecies. However, these rules could be circumvented if you wanted to do so all rules had loopholes after all.
But there was one chain that could not be broken: to be believed in was to be defined. Faith was the source of life and power for a god, but it also became their cage. If a Priest interperated a god of farmers to have a cthonic death oriented aspect, and got enough of the worshipers to believe in that. Then that god would develop said aspect, in time it could even become a separate incarnation or become a new god all together. Resil had seen it happen to many a god over the years, he recalled having met The God of Bumblebees Yulara. He had been most agreeable and rather singularly focused, the tribe that worshiped him had a special relationship with the insects and over a few centuries that tribe grew into a mighty Empire that spanned half a continent. When that Empire fell the people in the east and west worshiped Yulara in very different ways.
Suddenly the Yulara that Resil had known became known as Yulara Philadelphus and had a whole incest thing going for him, while another incarnation of Yulara became female and a goddess of rulers and the whole bumblebee thing ended up being a symbol for her rather than her main dominion. They were both equally Yulara and technically were the same being at that time but they were also separate incarnations. Meeting oneself had to be incredibly strange if enough time passed for you to be noticably different from yourself.
Resil was the Eroder of Chains, it was not in his nature to accept them even if they were beneficial to him. As a mortal he had been a slave who broke his chains and killed his oppressors. Fortunately or unfortunately depending on your perspective, he became too famous in his day and was worshiped almost immediately after he fell in battle. That was well enough, but unfortunately Rebels and Slaves weren't the only worshipers he had. Dread is a form of belief and all those who benefitted from slavery hated and feared him to the point that his nature changed. Eroder of Chains could mean many things, the chains of the oppressed were only the most obvious part of it.
In time he became a living exemplar of entropy, eroding all bonds of civilization, morality, and inhibitions, these too were "chains" after all. Resil had been defined such and still it stuck with him after millenia had passed and he had done everything he could to erase his name from history. When the Slavers started imagining that Resil and all those who worshiped him hated all forms of technology that was when he finally had enough and withdrew from the world.
Worship and dread gave him power but they became his chains in turn. He had to find a way to break them, first he ensured that almost all of his Clergy was wiped out. Visions that led them into traps or "accidents", demands of ritual sacrifice, and public condemnation. From there he then withdrew deeper and deeper into his divine realm. Time was all he needed and without his Clergy his stories faded when enough time passed.
Now, he realized he had acted rashly but he could only come with the excuse that he was young and he lashed out in desperation. This plan almost killed him before he realized that without any worship he would cease to exist, and while that was a tempting prospect considering the alternative he resolved to live...to spite all of those with chains.
His starved state had counted as enough of an emergency that the laws of the world allowed him to leave the Divine Plane, which was something he used to his benefit. All rules had loopholes and Resil had at that time only a lack of information about them, and traveling was said to broaden the mind so he did.
Resil had traversed the planes and met a myriad of individuals and groups that slowly gave him the pieces that he needed. Sure, a GOD had to stay on their plane unless called and anchored to another plane, but what if being a god was only part of what you were? Well that allowed for more leeway, a god that was also an elemental or a demon or a monster could not be expected to only stay in their plane could they? Resil traded part of his divine essence for various reagents that would...expand his nature. Sure, a GOD could only communicate their desires in the vagueries of visions and prophecies when their worshipers were in conflict with other gods. But servants that didn't worship you? They could get instructions as clear as the light of dawn.
So it went for all the other chains that bound gods. Faith defined you? Well what if you only let a select few worship you and stamped them out before they could distort your nature over time? Faith was the only source of power you could use? That was true of a GOD, but if you were a demon-vampire-elemental then you had other sources of power didn't you.
He had learned much and found many ways to break the rules. If you gathered enough of a substance in one placed and infused it with mana over time an elemental would be born. Most only thought that this was for the classical elements and natural things, but even more obscure things such as light, heat, waste, and even objects like swords or masks could spawn an elemental. And if you ritually consumed the nascent elemental you could then usurp it. Resil had done this to every fleshpit that the Order of the Apocalypse had ever created, becoming a grand elemental of flesh and feasting on the defiled faith and the natural mana gathered in them.
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Vampire blood could be used to transform oneself into one if it was used in an alchemical concoction, and eating the heart of a demon was enough to become one of their kind. Resil had of course done both to properly break his chains and become more than he could ever be as a mere god.
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Resil was shaken out of his reverie while gazing down into the fleshpit. He had been sitting there for more than a week just thinking through the wait. Time was one chain that Resil had not found a good way to work around. Gods, vampires, elementals, and demons were all alike in one way. The passage of time was much less of a concern to them than to mortals so it was incredibly easy to lose track of it and forget about things like "days" and "years". Many a immortal would be surprised when they returned to visit a recently made acquaintance that they had died because 50 years had passed since they last met.
A mortal perspective was important to have if you were going to play the kind of game Resil played, so he tried his best to find ways around this weakness. But even he failed from time to time which was why things like this could happen. He rose up from where he had let his legs dangle and looked around, the compulsion he had placed to keep the chamber clear of unwanted guests had remained. With a flick of his wrist he dispelled it and turned to the fleshpit. There was work to be done as he felt that the reply to his extradimensional message had not been answered yet, so Resil dove into the pit and effortlessly slipped into the putrid folds of decaying remains and began slowing as he passed through this pit into the next.
His head broke through the top layer of the Fleshpit of Maleda, one of the most ancient pits that was barely visited these days. The flesh had almost been fully liquified by the decay and he practically floated through it, he commanded the flesh to harden and form a pillar beneath his feet and stretch to push him out through the mouth of the pit. Liquid globules of flesh clung to his clothes for only a moment as he casually ordered them to return to the pit.
Maybe the Seed-Maker would reply to his message, maybe it would not. No matter what the outcome of that gambit would be, Resil did not gamble and finding the Conquest Seed would require information. Which was what drove him to Maleda, the city was the latest stomping ground of the Carnies. Extradimensional affairs were hard to learn about on Eria in spite of the world having so many hidden visitors from other worlds. Resil had only accidentally learned about other worlds and those who traversed them, either through the Ethereal Space or through "backdoors" left within dimensional membranes. The Carnies were one such group of travelers...an incredibly obnoxious and knowledgeable one.
Resil stepped up through the hidden pathways and caverns that led him to the city itself. He slipped out through a crack near the sewers and out behind a bakery. It had been a Butcher's shop last time Resil had been here, but he didn't linger. The Carnies were hard to find deliberately as their roles made them usually spread out to ply their craft. Finding them was, therefore, going to be an exercise in futility. No he rather have them find him.
He stretched out with his hand towards a random child walking down the street with its friends and grasped the "chain" of fate tied to it. Resil began to erode it until the destiny of the young one had almost completely eroded away. That should be sufficient to draw their attention to him. With that done he began to walk down the warm and sunfilled streets of Maleda while looking for a place where he could speak in private with the three.
A large mausoleum near the beach seemed like the perfect place to speak. The day was not the proper time to visit the dead after all, Maledans prefered to visit the dead at night when they were "close". So Resil walked through the circular opening the dome-shaped building and entered a labyrinth of sarcophagi and alcoves built into the walls that filled the entire complex. All he had to do was walk and wait, so he idly explored the building.
It only took a few minutes and a turned corner for him to see the three of them. In front of him a wooden table which he would swear had not been there a second ago, blocked his path. A woman sat behind the table with a stack of colourful cards placed next to a strange board that was placed on the table. There was a silky cloth covering the table and all in all it seemed remarkably thin. The woman had take on a youthly guise this time rather than the old woman she had been last time Resil had seen here.
To his left there were 3 puppets clacking and clicking on a stone sarchopagus behind them a person dressed in brown and purple sat with their knees hugged against their chest. A Puppeteer who was both man and woman and more than that besides. They looked at him and winked before making the puppets dance without pulling their strings.
He felt its breath before he heard or smelled it. A figure that now stood behind him, Resil did not need to turn to know who it was. He was a brutal looking man with white makeup coating his face and red paint on his lips which added to the enormous red ball covering his nose. Faded and colourful clothing with white hearts and horses all over it barely covered his body, in spite of it being a full suit of clothing. In his right hand he held a floating object that Resil had learned was known as a "baloon" and in his left he held a bouquet of grave blossoms.
The Clown, The Puppeteer, and the Tarot Reader. The Carnies had come to play.