Warsinger

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### Identities

*Bloodcaller. Firesword. The Reveller. The Firestorm. The Gamblers Queen. Song of the First and Loudest. The Unfettered One. She Who Laughs. The Artist in Red. The World Singer. Writer of Fates. Luck of the Blade. The Blazing/Bloody Muse.*

### Spheres of Influence

War. Blood. Steel. Battle. Revelry. Personal glory. Sexuality and lust. Alcohol. Song. Literature. Travel. Gamblers and Rogues.

### Symbol

A burning sword, or a burning quill. A female figure with red hair and red eyes. A burning page.

### Places of Worship

There are none that are formalized, but wherever there is to be battle, prayers to the Warsinger are offered up in tribute. She is the bloody, blazing muse, who yearns for those who strive to put forth ever greater effort. She inspires as much as she destroys, but is equally likely to encourage as she is to tear down. Difficult to follow and impossible to know, she is a mystery that cannot and will not be truly known or understood. But in her purest form, she thrives amidst conflict, external or internal, and in almost any form. Everywhere there is struggle to survive or to be known, she is found there, offering what assistance she can, if for no other reason than that she enjoys observing such things. She is equally found in the battlefield, both before and after, and in the music hall, lingering in the rafters.

### Phrases

'*The pen and the sword draw pain in equal measure.'
'Only those who struggle know the value of peace.'
'Drink, love, be merry! One out of three will do!'
'I've the eye of the muse on me. She sings a red song for you.'
'By the luck of the blade, may I live through this fire.'
'Lady willing, I'll have a drink, a fight and a lover by eve's end. Hopefully in that order.'
'Who do I have to (fight/outdrink/court) to get a (fight/drink/lover) in here?'* At which point most bar owners would start hiding the more expensive bottles. Also note that the actual word usage in this phrase can vary towards the crude quite considerably.

## Lore

The Warsinger, or the Bloody Muse, is one of the more dichotomous gods of Wildebourne faith. Originating from the Elven aspect of strife, passion and artistic struggle, the Warsinger is both primitive and at the same time, startlingly complex. One the one hand, the Warsinger is the aspect of violence, and conflict, often without cause, save for the violence itself. On the other, it is she who speaks to bards, writers, and artists of all varieties. She who inspires, who drives, who consoles and also pushes at those who struggle. She is the mistress of expression, of the declaration of self through any means necessary and possible. She is struggle, and the explosion of that struggle. For some, that could be as simple as triumphing in a fist fight, or succeeding at a difficult piece of music. For others, it could be the triumph found through victory in war, or writing an epic tale that lasts through the centuries. It is, quite simply, a faith that celebrates the self. In winning glory for oneself, one gains the eye of the Bloody Muse, and more glory may come ones way in so doing – that, or a broken, fallen ending when words or blades fail. Such is the danger to be found in those who tempt the court of a goddess, after all.

The Warsinger appeals to many, in all aspects of life. While her faith denotes a somewhat inward looking aspect, looking to the needs of one self over the needs of another, it does also promote strength, creativity, and art. It is a faith that reminds oneself that there is always the possibility, if one tries hard enough, to succeed at the thing that they seek to excel at. Of course, what that actually 'is' varies from individual to individual. Finding out what that thing might be is another part of the path of self discovery through struggle, however. In the original Elven aspect, this path of passion and strife was for an Elf whom had lost their way, their path in life and philosophical realization. Perhaps too many choices are presented before them and they could decide upon one. Perhaps the choices availed to them appealed not. And thus they would push themselves in a different manner instead, struggling with the choices of the head and the heart until the path became clear to them – either succumbing or expelling excessive passion from themselves and their minds. For Humans, this path is far less appealing. Not only that, but it is far too easy – and suited to their shorter lives – to embrace the explosive nature of their passion, the strength and the glory of their existence. Thus was born the faith of the Warsinger – sister war god to the Dragon, but without the depth of organized religion. Hers is a faith of soldiers and songsters, of travelers and those who either need luck or skill. She means much to so many, but exactly what that might be is difficult to fully discern. To some she might be benevolent, to others, far more cruel.

In the battlefield side of her following, warriors who follow her are far more likely to be berserkers, glorying in the thrill of combat and the strength of self. The Warsinger eschews tactics for the ferocity of passion and the raw aggression it can bring. Hers are those whom laugh at war, who feel their humor and happiness in the physical. They glory in power, sharing theirs with her, and partaking of the strength she offers. They are warriors to be feared, forgoing defence for offense, who will wade into the fray fearless and eager. Difficult to break in morale, and when face to face in combat, they are near impossible to stand against. Away from the battlefield, those who might call her favour are wildly, even perplexingly varied in their shapes and forms. They might be poets, or writers, whom lack or afire with inspiration, seeking to weld words to page to make their mark, or artists, seeking to create a vision to share and awe. They could be bards, singers and performers, who seek to express themselves through their art and impart their passion into their work. Passion is the key, the most crucial aspect of those who might ask her favour – to be caught up by that passion, to feel it drive and fuel them, to taste the heady whirlwind of creativity as it drives the hand as much as it empowers it. Some might argue that the expression itself is less important than the emotion which fuels its creation, however, it could just as easily be argued that the Warsinger simply believes that the best results come from the power of emotion in its rawest state, and not the other way around.

There are those who would, and perhaps should, be called clerics of the Warsinger, but in truth it is difficult to simply class them as such. A brazen warrior is as likely to be a teacher of their ways as much as a silver tongued bard or gambler, and both would do so in a different manner. But there are those who could be said to spread her word, but again, the manner they do so can vary considerably. Some do so by seeking their own glory, through battle and conflict, seeking to make a name for themselves and her as well, and in so doing, win glory and recognition. Others, however, seek to do so in a different manner, teaching the value of struggle, and overcoming it. Through knowing struggle, one can be said to truly know the value of achievement and accomplishment. If no trial is before oneself, then one should be sought, for no other reason than the satisfaction that would come to an individual when the trouble before oneself is finally overcome.

Those who follow the Warsinger are those who seek glory, who seek fame, and who seek satisfaction in themselves. They are confident, strong individuals, and are at their when they are noticed, be it in ways small or large. Whether it is the most feared individual on the battlefield, the greatest drinker at the bar, or the quiet playwright to one side glowing within oneself as the crowd enjoys their creation, the follower of the Warsinger does not so much seek recognition in others and in themselves, as much as they tend to demand it. They are strong in spirit and in mind, and often not to be trifled with. For indeed, there are amongst them many, who would not hesitate to run roughshod over those around them, in pursuit of their own goals.