Children of the Great Ones

The **Children of the Great Ones** is a book written anonymously. It details the Great Ps' offspring, the Ps Ones and describing their nature. Along with key events, items, locations and individuals significant to them.

## The Children Themselves

Te'thoaris, first born of the Great Ps. Merciless and terrible, harsh taskmaster of countless planes of reality. A sight of nightmares and horrors to be told, subverting whole dimensions under his thrall.

Psothoth, glowing lord of time and space. Endless and infinite as the twisting tides of fate. Madness waits for all who look too deep.

Sarpstho, woe to all who insult the master of change. Bloated mass of discord or cherished child of grace. Worlds torn apart, whole empires reduced to trembling huts, cruel tyrants made into shivering jackals for all is under his whim and wealth and prosperity for all who please him.

Petadeus, the King of the Xenscape, the Vestige of Madness and the Great Consciousness of the Great Empty. Utter madness awaits those who journey to that realm of insanity.

Psaatloth, the Maw of the Abyss and the Silver Host. A figure of faceless expression, bearing only a gaping mouth of the hungry, all devouring fathomless abyss. For all who are consumed by the emptiness, fading will ensue and then nothingness.

A aberrant beast his name is Psomagi. Cloaked in fur of crimson black blood with eyes of rubies. King of unruly beasts and abhorrent life. Huntsman of the Wild Chase and ravager of untold worlds.

Yogereth, primal and brutal yet as think and dense as rock. A hulking titan who's hide is impenetrable. Swords bend, shield scatter and the land bends at his power and might.

Untold and forever seeking those entangled in inner illusions and dreams of the mind. Beckoned by those calling out, he comes to claim his tribute of flesh, bone and soul. Swirling hair of tendril locks, armor crafted of bleached bone and maw of teeth for Pkrall comes.

The enteral burning eye of Psgha, unblinking at all within it's gaze. A fountain of murky ooze springs out beneath it. Men, women and children alike fall under the touch of the Psgha. Their bodies tainted and wither from within, becoming one with him to feed his quenching flame.

The Stern and Merciful Judge. Harsh yet fair, mistress Javps’a. Bringer of judgment of the wicked and unworthy. The sin of murdering one of the children of her kin, so grave is this crime. She will bring punishment for all who enable her quarry's escape.

The Horror of Erltho, oh Pvu the Terrible. Destruction and turmoil incarnate, a horned fiend with the skin as white as snow. Feared and reviled by many, yet loved by few.

Psymgdala the Collector. Eight armed lady who's collection knows no bounds, treasures galore and endless gifts evermore. Lost beings of awe from ages long gone by bound in thread, in her grasping hold. Glistering eyes glare at prizes, forever more.

The Grey Apostle. Ps'aaztre the thirteenth offspring of the Great Ps. The Great Shepard, He Who Is Not to be Named, The Unspeakable King. A mere servant of a higher power who's faith is build on power, control and sacrifice.

The God of Fourteen Tails known as Paugnar. A slender and gangly figure that harbors the wisdom of the eons. Fair yet great and demanding of uttermost respect. Patron of scholars and the intellectual.

Psurgle the Deathly Child, the Plague Bringer and Lord of Decaying Pestilences. A living source of infection incarnated into that of a mere youth, beneath though runs deep decay. Beware his touch for the rotting death will take hold, mourn for the poor soul.

Ever nulling power of Papsodhu, brought through by a simple desire. Cold, unending and terrible fate for all who face this horror. Papsodhu the Null Lord, powered by stolen spirit. Only echoes remain, every waiting for blessed release. Which shall not come for some time.

Speaking and chattering among themselves the many mouths of Prindus. Bickering, yelping, laughing or complaining it doesn't matter to them. Telling and speaking of events long gone by from seconds to years. There is only one rule for Prindus, the loudest wins always, and guides the rest in action. While the rest are quelled in silence.... only for mere seconds. Till the next argument and all the voices raise their opinions, high and loud as can be.

The Eater of Stars. He has many names, but this is a one best suits Psyphyr. He who feeds on the light of stars, consumes the light and power of whole suns. Beware his ghostly glow and if not be lured into his wide maw. The Star Fisher is ever patient for he knows his prey will come to his door.

Queen of the Wicked Crafts, Pstama that be her. Crone of power, bended tightly with foul sorcery and darkest arts of the night. Steeped in blasphemous rites of old, toying away in brewing and spellbinding. Reap thy rewards, servants of the queen. Crones, heretics and all those who seek the hidden ways. Gather around her dark majesty for she will guide the worthy in their ascendant to her side.

Psggek the Four-Armed Crustacean, blunt an dull as ever. Spewing all dissolving acid at pests below him in his mere sight. Crushing foes with mighty claws and steeping toes.

There lies a place called Yarheze, a bountiful world of millions of souls. Grand works soar high, built of marble stone, dark mortar and slabs of chiseled stone. House to the Kindly Architect God, Poui. He the one who showers kindness on his followers, with joy and eternal smiles.

Jobey the Tricking Child. A frail and childish being, inflicting pranks and tricks on lesser beings for it's own pleasure.

Bastion of life, giving life itself. The Ever-Blooming Mother who hands sprout whole forests from barren stone and sand. Seeing and sowing each seed into the earth's warm embrace. For the gardens of Psulyvahn will bloom and grow, her sweet nectar enticing all manner of prey to fair gardens of death and woe.

Psugdorym, standing high as a mountain of earth. A mass of horrid tubers, fungus, and festering moss, withering host of parasites and fungi saturate his bulk. Bellowing out clouds of tainted spores and other foul things to incorporate all of reality into his bloated form.

The Winged Terror of a Thousand Worlds, if know the name of Psazebul. Then know his blood drenched past of terrible acts of destruction. Razor jagged wings of ragged feathers block out the sun's rays, mighty gusts of winds blow whole cites apart. The Winged Terror soars once again.

P'ell, the thousand handed worm. Lavished ruler of the fabled Feasting Halls of Jorkar, dining and eating till the moons gone by. Guests for dinner and guests to be dinner.

Merrymaking, passionate indulgences of darker natures and simple pleasures is the trade of Psangu. A small flawless youth with perfect, features dressed with sumptuous finery and a pair of hypnotic eyes. Sprouting a lovely pair of horns from its forehead. Seductive and divinely beautiful, utterly beguiling all manner and irresistibly tempting with a mere glance. For he is the Lord-King of the Scarlet Keep, Prince-Fawn of Pleasure, Chief Joy-Giver and Master of Festivity.

Disgusted and scornful of the primitive exchange of words of mortals, Psqaie instead prefers the language of the mind instead of the lips.

Once long ago, but forgotten by most on the world of Draendio. There once stood several great kingdoms and domains. Governed by mighty and proud rulers, yet not even their wisdom and power could stop the horrors that came to pass. All brought on by the scheming machinations of Psdia.

Pshandra, the Lady of Reflection. The insect queen ruling a vast domain of constant flux and shifting structures, her home and fortress. She spies within her realm through more than light reflected and refracted in the fluctuating facets of the shining surfaces, images from distant worlds and lands far beyond brought into her sight of view.

The lower planes of reality are home to one being, called Psudlex. A titanic aberration, who resides in blackened realms content with raising his legions of doom. Mindless swarms and hives full of silken cocoons, ready to burst with new brood to pillage and plunder.

Countless are the children of Piaoggatu. The Mother to Many Broods, the Grey Matron of Twilight Woods. Self proclaimed goddess of fertility, growth and monstrous births. Secret and obscure circles gather within twisting groves and forest, blood, sacrifice and passion come together. At the witching hour does young mother blessed by her gift, seed planted inside. Within the surrogate wound of mother's embrace does young spawn of Piaoggatu gestate within. For she brings love and child to barren ones.

Cruelty and sadistic passion together for Psiolya it's her gift and pleasure to spread pain and malice to all who incite her ire. Hundreds of hands stabbing and slashing, whipping or slapping at tender flesh, the tripled fanged heads of Psiolya sink their teeth into poor victims.

Pstarr the Great Starfish, a entity made of flesh and traversing on vast appendages. In times of need when danger is to great, it splits itself into nine.

Logic governs him, sad and cold Pzrae. Once a being ruled freely by emotion and passion. The tragic demise of one child dear to him, drove him to reject all feelings. In his grief and sorrow, he tore out his own heart and abandoned it. Mourn for his loss and pray for sweet deliverance.

Great Serpent Pgarsis, a giant with a form of a one eyed giant fused into that of a slithering snake. It's venom deadly to all but himself, for it rekindles him and rejuvenate. For that he carves whole seas of it to bath in.

Powerful and great as was Psarg. He consumed hope and begat despair and sadness; He inhaled courage and breathed out fear and terror; He twisted love and created hatred and wrath; He corrupted kindness and spawned envy and malice; He indulged temperance and brought on gluttony and greed; He subdued diligence and induced sloth and laziness. Yet in the end his own powers could not save him and so Melancholy was made.

Pyavhe who brought the gentle touch of her charity, her mercy and compassion to lesser beings, far inferior to her grace. A being to behold with the power to stop wars in the blink of an eye and raise mountains of rock to soar among the heavens. But careful not to be deceived by her pleasantries.

The Stormreaver, eight hundred ever-moving legs of Pzasu. For he can summon fourth great storms and other devastating disasters upon his foes.

Oh poor Plecer, lost and alone in a realm of death. For foul poison has run it's course. Cruel immortal hands waged a terrible war, with the many deaths of the great one's brood. Oh poor children of Plecer, dream sweet dreams for your maker.

The Devourer of Intelligence, Pshege. A lord of the mind and knowledge, who's power leeches the very mind of thought and power. Beware his influence for it brings nothing but pain.

The many eyed Pseroud ever waiting and watching. A great being bearing a lone eye upon his head but possessing various eyes sprawled across his rigid yet black body. Watch as existence warps to his desire.

The Screeching One, the master of sound. Psäei's voice brings both nostalgic and destruction. Which one whisper he can render he can cause earth to shake, with a single word, entire lands are reduced to wastelands and whole civilizations to rubble.

Pst-aea the Old God, Grandfather. He who seeks lurks the outer realms. The being with no love for those who disturb it's time. One false move leads to utter ruin and a fearsome end.

Azpseta of the Inner Self, a child of the Great Ps who holds great power over the mind as such posses the right to see into and bring fourth lost and sometimes best forgotten secrets and memories though there is both danger and a terrible price.

The Potbelly, that is mocking and term for the forty-six born of the Great Ps. Though it may hold some truth. A comical yet not be insulted being, this being resorts to playing safe and playing the part of a harmless simpleton. But beware for the moment is right, he will be your downfall.

Suffering to all who venture to Scor. Listen not to the whispers of the marshlands, for they belong to the Voice of Deceit. It will twist and tempt your mind with lies and false promises, yet those who fall to it's thrall shall belong forever more under it's grip. They toil away among ruins of old, working to bring back a ancient evil back to power.

Master of the deep, lord of the treacherous waves. Cold and watchful, Pelba is forever patient waiting for the right moment to strike.

More like a monstrous toad than a deity, but Pula'yas is powerful indeed. Massive and large in shape and size. Squatting in the waters of his own personal realm among giant lily pads.

Blessed be Porso the Wish-Granter. Bender of the fabric of reality and crafter of the many arts. Fueled by desire to bring life to creation.

Väypsar the Monarch of Night and Darkened Places. Petty and vengeful, best nor draw is ire or suffer a dark curse. Sundered and battered by light rays, forced to hide among shadows.

Pasat the most vile of his brethren. From his body swells fourth building the essence of life, given goods and their ingredients. But within it holds a great sickness of the mind.

The Watcher of the Depths, the Horror from the Mists. Pabyssal takes and goes by many titles. Sphere eyes look deep into the soul of those close to the water's edge. Look too long and you may see horrid things beyond imagination or fall victim to image weaving mist.

Podoe the second to last born. In the shape of an elderly, male with pure white hair. Yet possessing the strength and vitality of an immortal. Though this appearance is merely a shell for what really lies beneath.

Last of all. The still beating heart of Pzrael, ripped out as unbearably grief took it's toil. Thus Poorë was made. Full of resentment and swore to rid others of pain, beating wounded hearts torn and offered to his pleasure, bound now together.