Six Dungeon Gods

 Inspired by this post.

You could put them in most settings, I think - your average shitworld morgleborgle dungeoncrawl 1HP murder crawl would be improved by jealous little kami to appease, and your average high-power tradgame would be too. It’s a damn good idea. Hell, it’d be amusing to envision them in some kind of Esoteric Enterprises twisted modernity. What were we talking about? 

Candlemaid

Night Guide, Prudentia, Whispercatcher

Demeanour: Empathetic, Shy, Good-humoured, Mystic 

Symbols: Guttering Candle, Stick of Chalk, Scrap of White Cloth

Why do people suffer? Man’s inhumanity to man. 

 

Ban: Loud sounds and cruelty.

Sacrament: Quiet and mercy. 

Favoured Offering: Beeswax candles, honey, birchwood icons, forget-me-nots and sunflowers. 

The Candlemaid is the god of the Restless Place, a catacomb under your city. Shambling corpses and hungry ghosts move through here, unsleeping remains of a long-ago time. As far as dungeons go, it’s not so bad, so long as you remember your holy water and your manners. 

The Candlemaid is said to be, by myths, the daughter of the city’s founder, who was locked away to keep her from her true love, but dug down through the floor and escaped into the underworld. 

Her shrine is found on the second level of the Restless Place, in an alcove on a long hallway. It is a jagged rock absolutely covered in a foot-thick layer of candle wax built up over centuries - layers of beeswax and tallow, studded with fresh, lit candles left by worshippers. Offerings to her are to be left in the alcove around the stone. The Candlemaid herself might communicate in graffiti scraped into the walls, or notes totally sealed in a thick layer of wax. 

 

If you earn her favour, when you’re next consumed in utter darkness, a will-o-wisp, or ghost lantern, will appear and light your way to safety. She might also intercede if you fall down a pit in a dungeon, or find yourself trapped by a cave-in. 

Jaggeran

General Jag, Red Giant, Kinstrifeman

Demeanour: Parochial, Irritable, Blood-thirsty, Proud 

Symbols: Jagged Nonsense Weapons, War Horn, Dog Skull 

Why do people suffer? This is not part of my remit, kindly fuck off. 

 

Ban: Cowardice. 

Sacrament: Eye for an eye. 

Favoured Offering: White bulls, sandalwood icons, boars, weaponry. 

Traditional lore agrees Jaggeran was buried in that hill to keep him from causing trouble, so we call his dungeon Strifetomb. An old war-god of this valley, they had to get rid of him to bury the hill-folk in tolls and laws. Some still creep down here to learn the old battlecries from him. The spirit of dissatisfaction, anger and revolt is irrepressible, a thousand gods subsist on it, not least old General Jag. 

Strifetomb is an ancient catacomb, full of traps against grave-robbers, warrior-ghosts, wild animals from the hill, and the occasional valkyrie (here to visit the Red Giant). The path to Jaggeran’s shrine is pretty well-documented and cleared out, but the deeper depths remain mostly unexplored. 

His shrine is his own huge skull, sticking out of a dirt wall deep in Strifetomb’s fourth level, guarded by wild dogs and crazed undead berserks. As far as even small-gods go, he’s very direct - he speaks from his own mouth in his own booming voice that feels like it burns the ears. Burn offerings right there on the stone floor, and he’ll inhale the smoke.

If you earn his favour, he will give you a point of rage and teach you all the old battlecries. Then, he’ll tell you to fuck off and do something impressive with his gifts.

Mater Esurientem  

Our Lady of Gout, Eater of the Grave Dead, Maw Hungry

Demeanour: Patient, Gluttonous, Magnanimous, Generous

Symbols: Necklace of Animal Teeth, Hooked Pole, Bronze Ring

Why do people suffer? Greed! Give it all away.

 

Ban: Hoarding. 

Sacrament: Charity and Funerary Cannibalism. 

Favoured Offering: Rotting dead bodies and bones. 

Mater Esurientem is the god of the Bone Pit. She is known to be a patron of the downtrodden, inasmuch as there’s not much eating on a skinny corpse. Her ethics are not human, but they align by dint of hungers and accidents with a generous and friendly goddess, so she’s popular despite her hungry habits. Besides which, the people of that city where her pit belongs believe their souls vacate the body after death. 

The Bone Pit is located beside and below the Arena, in that ancient city, you know the one. The remains of beasts and gladiators are hucked down the pit to serve as offerings to her, and also to clear away the refuse of bloodsport and make ready for the next round.

Her shrine is a huge blood-crusted bronze bowl at the very bottom of the Bone Pit (which is, due to the pit-with-radial-chambers-structure, not so difficult to access.) Put your offerings in, turn out the lights and close your eyes - no matter how loud the chewing gets, don’t peek! 

Her high priests are two old men called Sempero and Zampano, who happen to be very old ghouls. They slouch around in the dark passages around her shrine, white cassocks dyed an irregular black by ancient blood. Sempero’s eyes are protuberant and pale, his beard silver and knee-length, his teeth long and jagged, his body skeletally thin, his hands pale and papery. Zampano’s eyes are completely red with blood, his chin is beardless and his face is cheekless, exposing his thick teeth to the lantern’s light - he is very corpulent. Despite their fearful aspect and unclean dietary habits, the two form an undeniably comedic and avuncular pair, so long as you occupy the same underworld paradigm they do. 

If you earn her favour, she might cure your diseases, heal your wounds, or even make you into a ghoul. Perhaps she might even make sure you and yours never go hungry again - so long as you don’t examine the meat too closely. 

The Blind Army

Living Tide, The Grumblers, The Low Roar



Demeanour: Fractious, Avaricious, Disordered, Possessing Pointless Bravado. 

Symbols: White Locusts, Schiltrons, Cataracted Eyes. 

Why do people suffer? Hell is other people. 



Ban: Abandoning your comrades.

Sacrament: Plunder and pillage. 

Favoured Offering: Pigs, sheep, dead adventurers and bags of grain.

The Blind Army is the god of Castle Grognard, a castle built on a castle built on a proving ground built on a catacomb built on another, bigger castle. Treasure is brought to this place - by the Army’s looting, or by stupid lords who think they can hire them as mercenaries. Blood is brought to this place - explorers, tomb-robbers, the foolhardy and careless. The purpose of this place is not to control the briary valley it stands in, nor to protect treasure or lords - at least, not anymore. 

The castle is a challenge, a stupid spittle-laden challenge aimed at the entire world - COME HAVE A GO. IF YOU THINK YOU’RE HARD ENOUGH. 

When they take form in their domain, they appear as pig-faced men, with blind white eyes, sniffing snouts and thick tusks. They don’t really have a shrine, per se - rather, every dead-drop, portcullis, swinging axe, dart-shooter, spring-loaded poison needle and treadmill staircase in Castle Grognard is a shrine to one maniple of the Army or another. Blood sacrifice from the failures, and admiration for those that succeed. 

If you earn their favour, you might bring a regiment of the army out of Castle Grognard with you, to serve you for a year and a day. Soldiers of the Blind Army are tireless, dreadfully strong, and have no need of rations or similar logistical concerns. They are also, of course, blind, but their hearing and smell is incomparable. 

Wound Root 

Khuhu-Karku, Grandfather Loam, Lady Tuberous 

Demeanour: Forgetful, Kindly, Wrathful, Laconic 

Symbols: Root System, Potato, Jagged Branch 

Why do people suffer? Isolation from the all-encompassing web of life. 

 

Ban: Deforestation, familicide and vegetarianism. 

Sacrament: Planting trees, having children and cannibalism. 

Favoured Offering: Black hens, white llamas, lumberjacks. 

Wound Root is the god of Karku, an ancient cave-system underneath a forest of giant dream-trees. They are a very, very old god, dreaming since long before humans - some say they are as old as the dream-trees they hold as their primary congregation. If Khuhu-karku gives boons and gifts to humans, it is by chance or whim - they are a god for trees. 

Karku is a green and growing location, full of poisonous fungi, questing roots, bioluminescent oozes, strange fruits, roving nightmares, giant moths, friendly centipedes and shifting passageways. There are few humans down here - only the friendlier dreams and the smarter ants are worth attempts at communication. 

Their shrine is slap bang in the middle of the second level, a massive root-ball overgrown with psychedelic fungus and surrounded by massive tubers growing in the loamy soil. Whatever you fucking do, don’t eat a giant potato without permission or you’ll die within the week by cave in, wolves, dysentery, however Wound Root can get its gnarled hands on you. 

If you earn their favour they’ll give you huge seeds full of healing power, or mistletoe sprigs to use as darts or arrows that can even harm a god (the god who came up with mistletoe in the time-before-time was a hunter of other gods, but that’s a story for another day).You may also be allowed to eat a giant potato. They’re good for absolutely huge chips but otherwise are just potatoes of unusual size. One wonders why Lady Tuberous values them so… 

If you truly impress them, they will give you the finest of their sacraments - dendrification, planting you softly in the thick loam and letting your legs become roots, your torso a trunk, and your arms branches. You will grow into a great dream-tree and see a thousand seasons from the high plateau. 

Slow-wyrm 

Cataprax, Hookteeth, Glinty-eye

Demeanour: Half-awake, Avaricious, Bitter, Cruel 

Symbols: Chains, Black Chalice, Gold Snake Eye

Why do people suffer? Weakness. 

 

Ban: Self-preservation. 

Sacrament: Edibility. 

Favoured Offering: Human beings and gold. 

The Slow-wyrm is the god of Wyndhill, a collapsed formerly-volcanic mountain out in the wilderness, upon which stand the ruins of villages and fortresses. It’s not the only god of Wyndhill, but it is the largest and the meanest to stalk the expansive halls and caverns dug under the earth. 

It doesn’t really have much of a priesthood - a few frightened explorers trapped down there with it offer it prayer, which it accepts in lieu of food, but an organised cultus of the Slow-wyrm has never been established by a theologist or travelling priest. Perhaps you’ll be the one to unlock its secret ways?

Likely not. 

The Slow-wyrm is a very hard god to appease - if it offers a boon, it is only because it has been tricked or used in some way. It will eat almost anything its jaws find, making it useful for disposing of cursed objects, political enemies, demons, the indestructible koschei of a lich, or similar things which are difficult to dispose of without problems tracking back to you. Furthermore, if somehow tempted to the surface, it would need an army or great hero to drive it back underground - though, be warned, many a fool has tried to arm himself with the Slow-wyrm and found himself becoming lunch. 

Its shrine is at the bottom of its stomach. 

If you are brave and wise, write up a few dungeon gods of your own!

If you are powerful and fearless, write up a dungeon with a god in it.