Mumbles is the goddess of wrestling, wrestlers and spectacles of physical ability. Her followers believe in strength and physical ability, as well as providing an excellent show and giving the crowd an incredible spectacle and display. Many have pseudonyms and masks, fighting and performing as alter egos both in order to protect their identity and to create an air of mystery to add to the show. Others use their real names and personality as an attempt to have success in the ring catapult them to personal success, fame and wealth.


She was brought into the city by a group of large oiled foreigners who wore masks and shorts and nothing else. They began organizing spectacular displays of their abilities, wrestling each other in the streets and putting on a grand show for those who passed. This began to acquire quite a following, and betting on the matches became commonplace. This lead to match fixing, which eventually became so complicated and common that betting ceased entirely. People still watched for the stories, however, and the matches were moved to the temple of small gods.


The matches and shows have become the services, with wrestlers fighting and grappling in front of the crowds in a grand elevated ring. The fights have grown in popularity and showmanship, to the degree that it has come to be considered an art form by many city denizens. People will pay a small fee for entry, and then petition services from priests who oversee the matches. The stories have become the main draw of the matches, and attendance has come to rival that of some of the largest plays put on throughout the city, and each wrestler has acquired a following of their own, some actively becoming larger than life.


Mumble’s symbol is a mask of black straps and steel, the overall effect being considerably intimidating. She is depicted as a muscular woman wearing the aforementioned mask, and she is always shown surrounded by black robes, hooded druids. No one really knows why this is, and chalks it up to being from a foreign country.

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LaSalle is the God of soldiers, armies, mercenaries, marines, navy and all other organized bands of folks fighting under some kind of leadership. He is something of an older deity, harkening back to when the city and Senate were allowed to raise and hold a standing army, instead of the current system in which the armed forces are raised and organized by the platinum houses. This has lead to a sort of bizarre schism in the followers of LaSalle, where each platinum house’s personal army is untrusting and cold towards the others, sometimes even coming to blows during the services themselves.


LaSalle himself was a cavalry officer during one of Port Delta’s many quests towards the acquisition of new lands to add to the nation’s holdings. He was well decorated, and highly respected by his men, seen as a great leader (if not the greatest tactician). During a battle with a group of hobgoblins holding a mountain range rich in metal ores, LaSalle was ordered to perform a holding action to prevent a route and slaughter during a retreat. LaSalle and his men bravely charged directly into the heart of the much larger hobgoblin force, causing panic and disorder in their ranks. Seeing this, a counterattack was ordered to take advantage and support LaSalle, but he was cut in half by a hobgoblin. His men and those who knew his reputation began to venerate the man and prayed to him before battles.


The services are ceremonial presentation of arms, and swearing subordination and fealty to their superiors through thick and thin. This gets confused due to the schism, and winds up being a humble of words and oaths. The group’s then set up to recruit new members from the population, competing with each other to provide services and hire on new folks.


His symbol is a helm with a plume with a sword in front, blade down. He is pictured as a swarthy man wearing a breastplate and extravagant pantaloons, and a large handlebar moustache.

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Vimes is the God of the guard, the night watch and peaceful community. His followers are those who walk the street and would keep them quiet, or at least full only of the noise of productivity and commerce. They are there to keep the gears of the city up and running, greased, oiled, and unmanned so everything goes smoothly and safely for everyone. Also worshipped by the families of guards, who leave trinkets and tokens as sacrifices in the hopes that their loved ones will come home safely and unharmed. These trinkets are then collected, and used to fund the widows and orphans of Those killed in the line of duty.


His creation stemmed from a time when the city was lawless and dangerous, run by gangs and adventurers, with senators openly accepting bribes and criminals killing indiscriminately. The guards were underfunded, undermanned, and often on the take themselves. The people of the city cried out for order and peace, for civility and stability to come to their lives and for opportunities to make their own way in the world. Just as things seemed darkest, Vimes came into existence in the city, fuelled by this need and outcry. He organized and empowered the guards, and lead a campaign to clean up the city, arresting senators and thieves alike, subjecting all to the law equally.


His services are simple, involving only a pledge to keep the peace, and ensure that justice and law is upheld no matter how difficult it may be. The temple is then kept open for donations and offerings from the public, which are made by many who value the city being organized.


His symbol is a cudgel held over a helmet with a nasal bar, the traditional signifiers of the city guard. He is depicted as a dark and brooding man late into his middle years, wearing a helmet and wielding the cudgel, he bears the mark of a captain of the guard.

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Luther is the God of heretics, a bizarre impossibility and mind twisting dichotomy. His followers are angry. Angry at the state, angry at each other, angry at themselves, you name a thing, they have opinions about it and some reason to be angry with the current state of affairs. Though they tend to have a more specific aggression and irritation towards the churches. His staunchest supporters are the elderly, teenagers, and people who feel like they don’t get enough attention. Whoever they are, they have come together under this God’s banner and will to express distrust of the current crop of religions, their corruption, their zealotry and their disregard for the will and desires of their followers.


He began life as an inquisition priest of the goddess of fire and justice, hunting down the guilty and putting them to the torch. This was his passion and the meaning in his life, until he discovered the church often sent him to silence their detractors for small infractions, sometimes simply for speaking out against them. This infuriated and confused him, calling into question his life’s work. He decided to atone for his actions, and posted a list of complaints on the doors of each church. This obviously gained him quite a bit of infamy and hatred, as he distributed them through the city as well. It was decided by his church that he would be publicly burned to save face. This displeased Iona, who spared him to become her demigod. She had miscalculated his popularity among the people, however, and this act pushed him over into godhood.


His services are giant shouting matches, each person is allowed to raise one topic of discussion, which invariably leads to the congregation yelling their opinions and why everyone else is wrong and their point of view on it is the definitive interpretation. They have also taken to placing lists of complaints on doors, especially doors of the churches.


He is depicted as a thin, balding priest, with a mallet raised as a way to make a point in a shouted discussion. His symbol is a stake, which is what his followers use to nail arguments against a church or business to the offending door.

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Rick is the God of tavern owners, bartenders and those who own any kind of establishment where alcohol is consumed. He was once a normal bartender in the adventurers districts, known for accepting items of value in exchange for opening a tab (a not uncommon practice). In an uncharacteristic and unlikely fit of carelessness, he grabbed a beautiful horn stein without close examination or hearing the tale of where it came from (assuming a down on his luck adventurer who was pawning an heirloom for drinks). This particular stein had come from the crypt of a demigod of alcoholism, and and had contained his divine spark. Through the careful management of power and influence, including the use of free alcohol to ply adventurers and mercenaries, the man became a full-fledged deity. He still owns his bar, which has become one of the most successful taverns in the city (called “Rick’s Place”), and is also known as one of the best places to contact the black market. Anyone who needs transport into the city, or who wants to sell something currently outlawed in the city comes to Rick’s Place first.


His services require setting the temple up like a giant tavern, seedy tables, scummy bar, hay and dirt on the floor and everything. The patrons and petitioners take turns drinking and pouring beers for the others while listening to their problems and cleaning glasses. These services often involve the shutting down, or at least reducing the services of, a great deal of the taverns in the city, which has caused more than a few riots in the outer twelve. Of course many of the ordinary citizens of th city believed these riots to be normal, and the riots subsided when the taverns were reopened.


His symbol is the gorgeous horn stein that allowed his rise to power, and he is depicted as a thing man in a white tunic with black pants and a scar over his lip.

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Julio is the God of Senate aides, the people who senators boss around for little to no pay. These are the true reason any progress gets done in the world of city politics, filing government reports, proofreading bills and statements, arranging schedules and performing whatever small tasks need to be done. These small folks operate thanklessly behind the scenes to make sure the lives of the big players run smoothly, and the wheels of the city remain greased to satisfaction. They have gone on strike on the rare odd occasion, and city performance all but halted for several weeks from just an afternoon of missed work. The God is respected by those who remember this, or understand the importance of the aides. Despite this respect, the cults meetings are always, without fail held at the same time as Brutus (the God of the senate).  This is partly because they are so busy doing everything the senate needs, and partly to save time and money.


Julio’s symbol is a large glass bottle of water tipped upside down onto a golden mechanism that controls the flow of the water using a kind of spigot (or a water cooler, for us modern folk). The aides stop by a large version of this and take a rest, sharing stories of their work and news around the city over small cups of water.


Julio himself was Brutus’s most trusted aide, and was considered by many to be the most efficient and productive in the history of the profession. He gained a similar cult of personality to Brutus, among the aides in the senate. When he was struck down with his employer (the senators just killed anyone who got in their way) he was also seen the next day, handing him papers and whispering supporting facts into his ear.

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Brutus is the God of the senate, a senator who was renowned during his lifetime for his knowledge and skills of political positioning and deal making. He was actually a sitting senator for longer in his lifetime than he was not, and has the record for career bills sponsored and career bills passed (yearly senator cards are a thing that exist in this world, celebrating the accomplishments and positions of various senators, as well as what districts they represent), and is known for having died on the senate floor after passing his final bill. He was stabbed twenty-five times by senators jealous of his success, and opposed to his viewpoints and practices in the senate. A cult of personality quickly formed around the man, and he was seen the next day in the temple district arguing with passersby.


His services are not actually attended by any sitting senators, but each one has an administrative aide go to the service and present offerings in the form of unpublished bills and small pouches of ritual coins, which appear very similar in form to the currency of the city but are assuredly only for the purpose of offering to Brutus (we assuredly you). These are offered against protection and support of the bill within the senate and population, and it is customary to do this the same day that a bill is being introduced and discussed. His aides take advantage of this time to get other things done, such as socialize amongst each other and grouse about their bosses.


Brutus’s symbol is a blood tipped dagger, usually of the variety associated with backs (held behind and slipped neatly into), this represents the cutthroat competition and attitudes of the senate, but is also a tribute to Brutus’s death on the senate floor. He is depicted as a severe old man, balding and crooked but still full of brutal cunning.

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Rand is the goddess of outrageous taxes, an enemy of the goddess of accountants. Her followers have petitioned and lobbied the Senate to increase taxes stating that they should “make ’em bleed” numerous times in both public and private correspondence. Her followers are ordinary citizens who simply believe that taxation should be at much much higher rates, reasoning that most people really have no idea what to do with all the money they have in the first place, and that the government has a right and responsibility to take this money and put it to good use. Unsurprisingly, most of these citizens are those who would benefit the most from this taxation: construction companies, masons, sculptors, painters, military contractors, and of course the slavers. Always the slavers.


Thus far the senate has done a good job of pleasing these people and not upsetting the population by raising taxes on adventurers and adventuring supplies to astronomical levels. Reasoning that adventurers will happily pay these rates to be in such a hub city, can easily afford to with the income frome looting, and need to pay some recompense for the incredible amount of damages the average adventuring party will do to property and lives.


The services revolve around examining tax revenue data, various average income data, and attempting to create the most reasonable sounding taxes that will take the greatest amount of money from the greatest amount of people. These pages are then transmuted to gold and worshipped, before ritual submission to the senate itself. These meetings are the precise source of the ridiculous taxes levied on the adventurers in the city, which the cult holds to be one of its greatest accomplishments .


Rand’s symbol is a golden image of a man holding up a globe, for reasons unknown to the cult. She is depicted as a small woman with a look of extreme hunger and desire in her face, which is assumed to be a lust for tax dollars.

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Giuliana is the goddess of organized crime, criminal activity and criminals. She represents the thieves guild and many of the larger gangs and other criminal operations in the city. Her followers leave offerings to ensure crimes go well, and pray for larger than expected hauls  from jobs.


Her services are one large smoky backroom gambling den, with various games of cards, dice and cockfighting going on. They also act as a way for criminals to interact and plan jobs together, coordinate turf, and even settle disputes in as peaceful a manner they can.


Her symbol is a half smoked cigar, and she is depicted as a woman clad in fine black clothes, wearing a black hat slung low over her face.

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