11.7.21 Haskor, the Patron of Heroes

From the crucible of conflict unending comes Haskor, the Self-Made, a testament to Divinity born in the blood and mayhem of a battlefield on His native world Khlenticthlisth. Drawn forth from the womb with the Horde in His blood, the first sounds His ears heard were the clash of swords and the cries of the slaying. Rising to first adventure, then conquest, then immortality, and then at last true Ascension by Trials overcome upon the Pantheon's garden of Achaea, His is the dominion once held by Matsuhama, God of Combat. In the culmination of centuries and works set to motion, one of Ayar-now-Sarapis' Realms of Creation now at last finds a new face for its Eternal Warrior.

Yet Haskor's saga was ne'er one to submit to that which had gone Before. His is an epic writ red and bold across the pages of brutal history, allowing no other to eclipse His hard-won acclaim as Creation's Hero. It is acclaim not as the mere reincarnation experienced by lesser entities, but as a true successor by blade and by tale. It is said that His deeds carry all the numbers of the Sky's many stars, a litany sung by priests and admirers alike across a thousand bloodied fields. In such legends Haskor rose, and in Triumph does He reign. Woe betide those who stood against Him as enemy, for they are one and all now but a footnote in the tale of the God who conquered His own Destiny.

Providence's mechanisms in myth are enormous and cold, their ever-moving wheels a ceaseless grinding of Time to render all that was, is, and may yet be to dust upon the fields of Memory. But within His bravado the Patron of Heroes is an embodiment of Fate's mastery. If you too would break Destiny to heel, Haskor rules there to be but one means to tip the scales, but one means to place your hand upon the great Fulcrum of Eternity and make of it your own saga. Only blood, running red with toil and sweat to oil the cogs of Creation with endless glory.

The march of history across Achaea is one paved in corpses and woe. But the victor, the Hero, knows that we live in an epoch of challenge for which there is but one key to avert one's own desolation. It is neither oath nor loyalty, for Haskor cares little for the trivialities of oft-broken mortal promise. Among those He champions, it is but one thing: the sword.