Tocathian

Tocathianism is the prominent religion in Gehenna, and is followed by most tribes to some degree. It is the symbiotic relationship the continent has with the spirits of the land that were changed by the events of the Divine War. Tocanthianism's priests are the dryads, a sub-race of Gehennans that have melded their spirit to the wilds. Dryads typically serve as a tribe's shaman, communicating with the spirits, overseeing sacrifices, and offering insight into the future, such as potential droughts or other natural disasters.

## Mythos

*These are the key myths and legends found within Tocathian literature.*

### **Creation Myth**

At first, there was Chaos. Eternia was formless; a swirling mass of land, ocean, and sky, intermingling with no order to the movement of matter.

The spirits gathered in the black void beyond, observing what was happening like a sculptor might stare down at unshaped clay. Jiuweihu provided light for each of them, their nine golden tails radiant in the darkness. Jormungand, the great water serpent, swirled around the others, awaiting anxiously. Each spirit one by one tried and failed to make shapes out of the land, and one by one, they failed. The formed lands instantly fell apart and drifted through the water and sky. Quetzalcoatl eventually took to the front of its brothers and sisters, stretched its feathered wings out, and spoke.

"I have a plan," said Quetzalcoatl. "We cannot force Chaos. We must trick it."

The spirits tasked with creation conjured the stone that would become the moon. The great panther spirit, Ixchel, the sunk her claws of darkness into the formless rock, carving away. The shape of the moon took to a perfectly uniform circle, defying the disorder below. Enticed into taking the bait, Chaos left the world and headed up, eager to destroy the work of the spirits, only to be entrapped within the rock.

And so it was that the the heavy stone collapsed in on Chaos, sealing to a close.

Just before it shut completely, the divine spirits heard a sound. It was Chaos, goading them from within the depths of the moon.

"When I return, the temporary order you cling to will end! I've already taken root in the heart of your most beloved, the one you will come to know as The Betrayer. I am the end, and all you can do is prolong me!"

Angered by the claim, Quetzalcoatl flew forward and sent out a gale of wind that would ripple through the soon to be formed oceans for all eternity. The force pushed the moon up further into the void, swirling in a line, moving out and back again. It circles the world to this day.

With Chaos under control, the spirits descended down to shape the world.

Quetzalcoatl had the most difficult task. With their divine winds, they refined each inch of land, ocean, and plant, to make sure that it wouldn't crumble so easily under the influence of chaos as it once did. Exhausted, once their job was complete, Quetzalcoatl took to the land of Gehenna to indulge in the primal acts.

### **The Three Warlords (245AC)**

And so it was that the world dawned. Gehennans lived at peace with the wilds, enjoying the plentiful game, the clear and sweet water of the mountain streams, and the fruit that grew freely. Several tribes turned into dozens over the centuries, and the population continued to grow. Honourable conflict, **war**, was celebrated as the means by which a tribe may prove its strength and gain territory. And so it was that all Gehennans prospered as a people.

At the time, three Great Warlords dominated the region: Citlali of the Cruxati, Netehl of the Kendol, and Menes of the Chimalli. This was before the Divine Wars.

One spring, an otherworldly, cloaked figure appeared to each Warlord one by one.

He said, "By winter come, you'll join me in a great song of blood and fire. You'll fight for me, and you'll die for me. And you'll rise from the grave to fight again. But do not worry, you'll find peace when the melody of war ends and a much more pleasant tune takes its place. Be immortalized at my side, and never know the pains of your frailty again."

One by one, each Warlord objected, rejecting the visitor in true Gehennan style - each through attempting to defeat this visitor in armed combat. However, at the slightest touch of the visitor's hand, each mighty warlord's body disobeyed their will. Each warlord's body moved of its own accord, before finally coming to kneel.

Their spirits resisted, but their body could not.

"You're already dead," the silver eyed figure declared, before leaving.

Spring passed, then summer, and finally even autumn neared an end. Winter had arrived and each of the warlords' flesh had rotted away, flesh decaying and peeling off of the bone. All three met at the start of winter once rumors of their condition reached each other. They gathered in the Tower of Skulls, where renowned tribesman were buried.

"Disturbing. For the first time, my enemies are right before me and yet my fingers have no desire to reach for my spear," Netelh began, displeased.

"Your fingers should be thankful. They'd fall to the ground along with the rest of the hand before ever touching your weapon's hilt," Citlali was quick to reply, a content, relaxed smile to his lips. Netelh almost took her spear and drove it through the man's chest. And then Menes spoke.

"Enough," Menes said. "We're not here to dispute strength, that can be settled another time. We rot, and we know why. The one with silver eyes visited us."

That morning, the three discussed what it meant and what they intended to do.

Netelh wished for the three of them to announce their condition to their respective tribes and stand down as Warlords.

Citlali did not find the situation a curse: his body no longer required sustenance, he was more durable in battle. He posited, if the cloaked one could so easily defeat them, perhaps he was to be followed?

Menes quietly observed, finding neither viewpoint appealing.

"I want it back," Menes said. "The rush of blood while hunting, the sting of pain when I'm slower than my enemy and my flesh reminds me, pushing me further. This numbness... It's undesirable."

Despite their own initial thought, the other two realized Menes was right. Despite the Three Warlords being fierce rivals, they knew in their souls that they had to reverse the situation.

Netelh had an idea. "Ixchel, the Shadow of the Jungle. How many warriors have we collectively lost hunting the panther? I have something to share with the two of you: I was a part of one such attempt in the past. Ixchel, after tearing apart much of our group, stared into my eyes and I couldn't help but look away. I was unable to meet its glare with my own. Ixchel spared my life and told me that in exchange I should rise to take Kendol as my own and forbid my people from hunting them. I did so. And so I know where Ixchel lurks..."

It was suicidal, but they didn't have many options left.

Ixchel was revered throughout the lands as a great spirit, the Avatar of the Moon. They were a formidable force, only rivaled by Quetzalcoatl, the Master of Serpents. But there was a legend: that he who slew Ixchel and wore the great panther's pelt would ascend to godhood.

They found the great panther in the swampland, sipping on the river's stream. Citlali attacked from above, casting a magical net that expanded and turned to heavy metal, catching Ixchel off guard. Netelh followed, landing a clean blow through the spirit's shoulder. It cried out in pain and it glared at her with the same striking yellow eyes she remembered from many years ago. "Foul human... You went back on your word."

"I will not kill you yet," Netelh said, "But we needed to be in a position to bargain. If we only had words, would you listen? Look at us. We've been cursed. We want to know if there's a way to-"

Before Netehl could finish her sentence, a strange shadowy mist radiated from Ixchel's fur and melted away the metal net. The black smoke was hotter than fire.

"Kill me?! I am Ixchel. My paws are the night that carved the moon. And yet, you three managed to catch me by surprise. You knew to strike when the sun was high and the moon set when my eyes see all. Impressive, for a traitorous mongrel..."

"Take my life. Ixchel, but stop the one with silver eyes. He has enslaved us and--"

Ixchel cut Netelh off. "Azrael, oh how aware I am. The Betrayer has long fallen from grace and lurks these lands, gathering an army, making undead out of Gehennans of note while his minion Solas turns their followers into the ones with green-veins which bleed red, the Oscuri. You have been chosen to fight at his side. Yes, I will take your lives..."

Citlali and Menes prepared for the worst, but they did not intend to go down without a fight.

What happened next was unexpected. They felt their shadows moving beneath them, and when they looked down, their shadows resembled large cats. With all of their might, Ixchel let out a deafening roar that shook the trees around them. The Three Warlords felt the change, their flesh healing: what had rotted away returning to bone anew, but different. Each Warlord now had features that were like jaguars, though Netelh in particular had black panther-like ears rather than spotted orange ones.

"Now you can fight again. Your lives are no longer your own, but **mine.** Spill the blood of those who would dare demand you kneel. Spill the blood of the damned, of The Betrayer's armies." Ixchel commanded. "A war comes, and the Naguals will lead humanity to victory. You are now the Shadows that dance when the Moon is high."

### **Beginnings: The Sacrifice of Shaman Mezhual (350AC)**

The religion of Tocath came to prominence during the third century, following the Battle of 'The Clash of Two Wills.'

Much of Gehenna was war-struck and broken following the Divine Wars. Many of the spirits that roamed the lands had been warped by the Azraelites; from the elementals of the forest that kept the greenery strong and vibrant, to the sprites in the vast rivers. Unable to maintain their form and carry out their duties, these spirits became wraiths.

Under the guidance of Quetzalcoatl, the Warlords were advised to tend to the corrupt spirits.

Unable to purify their warped forms, little progress was made. The Great Tribes wasted years hunting and destroying where purification failed, but the spirits were renewed as twisted as before. And then news spread throughout the neighbouring tribes that the lands of Cruxati had been restored to fertility, in place of the black, harrowed foliage the rest of the continent suffered.

The Shaman Mezhual had developed a means of offering life sustenance to the surrounding spirits, primarily the Spirit Tocatch. Tocatch was a strange thing resembling a bear with a rib cage down his front and large spines descending along his back. Shaman Mezhual produced a means of communicating with Tocath, and discovered that if Tocath was going to perform its duty in tending to the wilds around them, it needed not just mana, but stable mana.

And so Shaman Mezhual offered the most valuable sustenance men possessed: the blood that flowed through their veins. Simple bloodletting wasn't enough, something of great value was needed, attachment and meaning having power when it comes to magic.

Mezhual's only child volunteered, and, with tears staining his cheeks, the Shaman offered his boy.

Thus begun the tradition of sacrifice within the continent of Gehenna, not as a means of appeasement to ward off vengeful gods, but to **sustain** the spirits that had fought alongside the Gehennans in the Divine Wars.

It is a tradition of great honor: to be sacrificed is to ensure the next harvest is bountiful and to ward off the plaguelands that threaten to devour and warp the spirits of nature.

Tocath is but one of many spirits that struggle to carry out their duty, looking to Gehennans for aid. The religion carries the name as a mark of respect for the first sacrifice, and the teachings of Shaman Mezhual. These valuable lessons would save many tribes throughout Gehenna.

Shaman Mezhual went on to become chief of Tribe Teno and changed the name to Tribe Tocath. It became a Great Tribe and had over four million men and women under its protection. Their capital, the City of Tocath, was said to be so beautiful that Ixchel and Quetzalcoatl would not feud nearby out of fear of tarnishing the progress. It had monuments dedicated to the spirits that towered higher than most mountains. It was known as "The Southern Jewel".

The city fell in the War of Wraiths where the Tribe Cruxati became the ruling power in the south.

### Other Mythos

* The Great Tribe Ueltz were jealous of the Great Tribe Tocath, contending with them in the south. Their Warlord Olca ordered many raids on tribes that would swear allegiance to Tribe Tocath, but were met with punishment each time. Warlord Olca slowly lost himself to insanity after suffering defeat after defeat, paranoid of younger warriors in his tribe that might see his weakness and usurp him. He demanded that the River Spirit Ninteohl grant their tribe passage through the barriers to colonize new lands. The River Spirit spoke to Olca, "That is not within my power, but I will bring you and your ship to the ocean above where the stars rest if you sacrifice a thousand enemies to me. The souls there are meek and defenseless." Ecstatic, it didn't take long for Olca to gather his offering, forcing many in his own tribe to offer themselves. One by one, the offerings empowered the River Spirit, and it fulfilled the warlord's request, hurling their ship up toward the sky, past the clouds and into the night. The screams of Olca and his men were heard throughout the south as they plunged down and cracked into the ocean. "Your ship cannot fly," the River Spirit said, "But it can drown. All things can drown." To this day, parents tell their children stories of the damp, rotting Olca, with his overflowing seaweed-green hair and wild eyes, who drags children into the water that play too closely to the ocean.

## Beliefs and Culture

* Men have a right to what they can defend. It's cowardly to take something from a man unless in single combat.
* Only a powerful warrior can lead a tribe.
* Your children will be born stillborn or corrupt if conceived through incest. Children born out of wedlock should not inherit belongings unless they prove themselves more capable than their siblings.
* Your spirit will be tormented for an eternity if you fail to uphold a sworn oath.
* Those who kneel must serve as slaves. A dignified warrior does not bow their head. They serve their superiors on the battlefield.
* Sacrifice is an act of love and devotion. All things require sacrifice, and nothing is free. It's an honor for an enemy to die as a sacrifice rather than in battle.

## Tocathian Sacrifice

To offer sustenance to the spirit, the person must first know their runic symbol. This is typically acquired by a dryad, a tribe shaman, communicating with the spirit directly. The symbol is a gateway to the spirit's essence in the Spirit World, and is drawn onto the flesh of the persons to be sacrificed, typically on their forehead or chest. Soil from the spirit's domain in Gehenna is then scattered around the the sacrifice in a circle before their life is taken.

Wisps of blue mana can be seen leaving the corpse and entering the Gehennan soil, providing energy to the patron spirit.