Kislova

Kislova

The Unguttering Flame, the Unbroken Candle. NG demipower of light, kindness and life (She/Her)

Pantheon: Orcish

Symbol: A burning candle

Realm: Scattered as lightshard fragments across the planes

A legend of the Old Light, as recorded in oral histories of the few orc tribes who still remember

Before Gruumsh raised his bloody spear and conquered the orcish race, there burned a gentler fire in the hearts of orc-kind. Kislova, a power of light and kindness ruled, alongside noble Wisuth, as the benevolent couple of the old triad—one of the three pairs of powers who held the souls of the orcs in balance—at least, before the Betrayal that shattered the balance forever.

The old legends go that Gruumsh feared nothing that could be killed with a spear. What he did fear though was Kisolav’s light, for it exposed him as his true self. Not as a mighty conqueror, like he projected to the multiverse, but as a jealous and hungry thing grasping towards a throne he had not earned. Gruumsh feared the light certainly, but he feared Wisuth even more, because honour does not need to fight tyranny with an army—it just needs to pose a question that the tyrant cannot answer. If the orcish people started to question Gruumsh they would surely find him wanting, and that was not a fate that the wicked god could tolerate.

Now, the one-eyed god could not out-manoeuvre the power capable of illuminating everything all at once. So Gruumsh did what small frightened gods have always done to those kinder than themselves—he stopped trying to defeat them fairly and began instead to plot their erasure. Gruumsh knew he could not slay Kislova in the light, for the orcish people would tear his priesthood apart. So instead of war, he instead turned to skullduggery. He went to Zurrog, the power of wisdom, wearing a mask of humility. Gruumsh played meek, asked to be taught, to be shown the great truths of the multiverse, the error of his ways, as an apprentice might seek a master. Zurrog, who believed all minds capable of growth, poured his knowledge into Gruumsh freely, never believing a heart which knew wisdom would be able to choose cruelty. Gruumsh took every secret Zurrog had given him and turned it into a weapon. He learned the names of Kislova’s high priests, and their secret rites, and he learned the story of her great gem that held the heart of the orcish race, and its hidden architecture. He used the wise things he had learned to crack the gem with an obsidian blade, and his base jealousy, anger and hatred seeped into the gem. With her heart-gem corrupted, Kislova’s light could no longer hold herself, or her realm together. They shattered into a hundred wandering flames which scattered widely across the planes. Gruumsh dragged the ruined gem to Nishrek, where his most fanatical followers defile it to this day. And that is the story of how Kislpova fell, and the orcish race fell into darkness without her light.

Kislova no longer has a priesthood nor temples worth the name. Her worship is a scattered practice among orc exiles who rejected Gruumsh’s rewriting the race’s memory, and the rare shaman brave enough to admit their god of choice was defeated by their supreme power. Rites to Kisolva are private and secretive: a single candle lit and never allowed to go out, a kindness done for no reward, a truth spoken even though a lie would have been safer. There is no clergy left to organise a crusade to restore her name, and that, the faithful say, is precisely the point—Gruumsh cannot burn down something that does not have a form.

The Lightshards

While Kisolva’s light and realm were shattered and scattered, she is not a dead power. Light, after all, is everywhere. Unfortunately, that also means it is infinitely diffuse, and thus unable to act. Some fragments however were larger than others, and the so-called Lightshards of Kisolva were dispersed and lost all across the planes. Sometimes they came to rest in the hearts of particular orcish individuals who went on the develop great powers. Other times, they collected in places of radiant heat or light. More were lost in the Abyss, where they were either consumed, or twisted into something awful. Seeking these relics out has been the life’s work of many an orcish adventurer, and some have even succeeded. But do they use the power for good or for their own advancement though, that’s the question.

Kislova is described by the scattered faithful these days less as a being and more as a presence—orc-shaped when she chooses to be seen at all, but built of fleeting radiance rather than flesh. Where the other powers of the orcish pantheon proudly bear scars as trophies of war, Kislova is said to appear as an aging orc woman with skin like sun-warmed stone and eyes lit by candle flamel. Her hands are always open. Her followed recognise each other with a small mark of ash, soot or oil on their faces. However, she rarely manifests anymore. The few who claim to have seen her manifest describe her as smaller than expected—diminished certainly, but anything but dim.

A Philosophy of Light

Kislova’s dogma runs directly against the grain of everything Gruumsh preaches. She teaches that kindness is more powerful than strength—that any orc can learn to kill, but it takes real courage to choose gentleness in a race bred for war. Her core tenet, as remembered by the exiles who still tend her guttering shrines, holds that light does not need to conquer all of the darkness to make a difference. A single well-tended flame is enough to keep it at bay. Kislovans often leave a small candle in a niche to create a makeshift shrine and mark a place as safe to rest.

She rejects vengeance entirely, a position that challenges even her most faithful. After all, Gruumsh perverted her heart-gem into a monument to his own cruelty, and they would very much like to see it undone by force. Kislova’s answer, relayed through what dreams and whispers survive her scattering, is that a flame rekindled by violence will quickly burn through its fuel and then not stop at that, repeating Gruumsh’s original betrayal. Instead, every small act of unforced kindness among orc-kind is a tiny theft of ground back from Gruumsh’s dominion, proof that his rewriting of the orcish soul never fully took.

Observance: Followers snuff out lights in a shelter, then relight them one by one while naming those they have lost, symbolising that Gruumsh cannot keep the darkness in oplace forever. Some may also fast in silence until dawn to imitate the long exile of their goddess.

Edicts: Keep a flame burning through the night while you sleep; keep your hands empty when speaking a promise; wear the mark of ash oil or soot on your face

Anathema: Strike except in self-defence; refuse healing to one who asks; consume food in the dark

See Also: The Truth About the Orcish Pantheon

Source: Jon Winter-Holt. Canonwatch: This power is homebrew. I suggest the lightshards of Kislova could function like the warshards of Gorum, from the Pathfinder setting.