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SENNOSERI WREATHBEARER WREATHSEEKER (3769)
As the centaur retreated and the rutting season of the warm months drew to a close, their hooves thundered across the northern plains. Arising from the powerful tumult and life energies left in their wake, Sennoseri parted the tall grass and emerged from it with a foal at her side.
The centauride goddess, ageless and yet newborn, wandered the wilds of Thar-Eris, awestruck by the beauty she found there. She swore fealty to the fields, flowers, and fauna. She grew a mossy altar upon a mound beneath a lone sycamore in the plains that birthed her. Afterward, she set to the task of her legacy. She birthed six more daughters in the rutting seasons to come and became known to the centaur who lay with and deified her as the Fecund Plainsrunner, for though she bore them daughters, no centaur could manage to make a wife of her.
Her followers seek to preserve the beauty of the natural world and help it flourish. They have little patience for those who would bring ugliness or destruction to it, and even less for those who would attempt to force the world to grow according to any will save for its own. They believe that the ability to conceive life is a sacred gift that one should frequently practice. They often seek togetherness, a herd or a pack, for there is no miracle greater than to breathe with others who are living.
Sennoseri's seven daughters frequent the Courser's Repose as priestesses and guides for those known as the goddess' wreathbearers, teaching their mother's faith from the realms of their own experience. Those who race along the plains have likely seen the Repose's shade-giving sycamore.
Only those who share the values of the Mother of Seven Daughters will ever be permitted to meet with her. Unwelcome others may be met with disgust, permanent harm, or death.
Shamans belonging to Sennoseri's faith may know the gifts of Life's Champion, War, Desolation, Breaker, Revelation, and Proclamation.
'OCAIYE' (3770)
If life is but a series of challenges, what if you met a force of nature that pushed those ultimatums to the extreme? Would you crumble like a fragile pumice stone or would you emerge hardened to obsidian? Are you strong enough to channel that force? Everyone with any sense would fear a push into the volcano by someone wanting to see what might rise from the ashes.
The saying goes that some people just wish to see the world burn. A simplistic mentality with a narrow perspective views these idealists as driven to carelessly destroy, burn, and vanquish without reason. What about their vision though? What really creates a villain beyond someone willing to push boundaries and do whatever it takes to make a goal a reality? Chaos challenges truth. It challenges order, law, and universal acceptance. It breaks barriers, creates new possibilities, and turns everything you thought you knew into something other. The experience of growth has never been meant to be painless, kind, compassionate, or without consequence.
Then again, sometimes there is no vision, no goal, no dream. Sometimes, one just wants to experiment. They want to test and they want to experience a reaction. Consequences mean nothing to these people, for without dreams life too becomes just another experiment. These types find kinship with Ocaiye for she enjoys watching destruction just as much as she covets rebirth and regrowth.
And when the world needs to burn? People without trials by fire are lazy, useless, and redundant. Complacent. Forests grow unchecked, roots and animals fighting for space and food. Without a wildfire, even the strongest cannot thrive. But with a single ember, a conflagration will challenge without favoritism, without judgement, without morality. It just burns and burns, and only the strongest might survive. Perhaps no one survives, and the cycle starts anew.
Let the wildfires ravage, let the flames consume. Hold ash in your hands and feel its heavy greasiness of decay before it floats away on the wind. Feel the sharp heat of an ember resting upon your flesh and live that moment of fear, wondering if it will spark and consume you or die in a soft hint of what might have been. Let the smoke cloud your gaze, obscuring what you believed was before you, only to find barren wasteland when the soot has cleared.
Ocaiye herself is a reclusive entity, both a soft ember on the wind and the insatiable heart of a wildfire. She is capricious and malicious and just like a raging fire, knows nothing of kindness or empathy. She sees the world as something to burn down and make anew, different every time, possibilities endless. Those of orderly ethos or goodly alignment who dare to enter her domain will be burned to ash and cast aside as nothing more than fuel for a pyre.
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