Rudra
Lord of All Animals, Aditya. NE Intermediate power of storms and diseases (He/Him)
Pantheon: Vedic
Symbol: Black bow
Realm: Mechanus / Focus of Energy
Known Proxies: The maruts (proxy inevitable maruts [it/its] / LN)
Lecture by Callum the Doubter, Athar Preacher
“We are gathered here today my friends to talk about Rudra. The god of storms, disease, and general nastiness, eh? A real model of divine perfection. Well cutters, if you want a cautionary tale about the so-called ‘gods,’ Rudra’s your case study.
Let’s start with a bit of history, shall we? Rudra wasn’t always one big terrifying deity. Oh no, far from it. See, once upon a time, there were many Rudras—yeah, you heard that right—many. Like automatons from a golem factory, each of these ‘Rudras’ was designed for a specific task: storms, healing, the occasional pestilence, whatever the powers that be in Mechanus thought they needed. They were like a neat, orderly collection of constructs sent from a place called the Focus, a sparkling tower of energy that sat right on one of Mechanus’ gears, all bright and pristine. A glorious example of how perfect the divine order is, right?
Well, not quite. One of those Rudras—the stormy, diseased one—decided it wasn’t content being just one of the many. No cutters, it wanted to be the only Rudra. And because the gods are all about maintaining cosmic balance and order, right? What did this fine example of divinity do? It absorbed the other Rudras. Just gobbled ’em up like a celestial cannibal. Lovely, isn’t it? And no divine council stepped in to stop it, no higher power slapped it on the wrist. Nope. Rudra stood triumphant, now a one-god storm of chaos and plague.
Now, this was all supposed to happen within the boundaries of Mechanus, a place known for its law, order, and predictability. But somehow this storm god of rot has warped its very nature. The Focus of Energy tower—the heart of it all—is rotting away. A dark spire poisoning its surroundings. Oh, but we’re supposed to revere these beings? Worship them because they know better than us mortals, right?
And what does this evolution tell us about the divine system? It’s nothing but chaos dressed in the thin façade of order. Powers like Rudra ain’t interested in maintaining balance; they’re just looking out for number one. The mighty Rudra, created for balance, is now a god of storms and disease who’s mastered the dark art of vengeance and terror. And is camped out in Mechanus. Real inspiring, isn’t it? The epitome of celestial wisdom—if you think backstabbing your own siblings is wise.
And recently? Oh, things are only getting better. Now that Rudra’s alone at the top, he’s not exactly keeping his little corner of the multiverse tidy. His realm, if you can call it that, is a festering wreck. The once-healing energy of the Focus is darkening, decaying. This power pestilence is leaking his rot into Mechanus itself, they say storms of pestilence are billowing out and infecting nearby gears. A bit ironic, isn’t it? The realm of perfect order now being slowly eaten away by the very deity that was created to uphold it.
Now let’s talk about Rudra’s followers. What a cheerful bunch they must be, eh? Imagine worshipping a god who embodies disease, terror, and the general raining down of death and destruction. If you think that makes them effective or trustworthy, I’d suggest a quick visit to their plague-ridden hovels. Rudra’s worshippers are terrified, of course—like any good zealots. But lately, there’s a whisper among them, a certain… unease. Turns out, when your god is a howling tempest with a fondness for disease, his favour is as stable as a storm at sea. Make a few too many mistakes, and suddenly, you’re the next target for divine retribution. Rudra doesn’t tolerate weakness, even in his own people. The priests spend their days in fear, wondering if the next lightning strike will be theirs. Wonderful way to live, eh?
What’s the implication here, folks? Why should we care about Rudra’s little ‘evolution’? Well, it shows you exactly what I’ve been saying for years. The powers don’t care about order, balance, or any of those noble-sounding ideals they preach. They’re self-serving parasites who pretend to have control over the multiverse. And it’s not just Rudra—he’s a symptom of the disease that runs through the entire divine hierarchy.
The chant is simple: Rudra started as many, absorbed his kin, became one, and now he’s slowly devouring Mechanus itself. And we mortals? Well, we’re supposed to worship this parasite, to bow down to his diseased majesty in hopes we don’t catch the plague he himself is pumping out.
So ask yourself, berk: Do you really want to put your faith in the likes of Rudra? A god who can’t even keep his own realm intact, who feasts on his own kind, and whose very nature is to destroy what he touches? If that’s what the so-called powers are about, then I’ll take my chances with the Great Beyond. The gods are a broken, festering system, and Rudra’s just the most obvious proof of it.”
Canonical Sources: Planescape Monstrous Compendium [2e] p66-67; On Hallowed Ground [2e] p154,156-157,179; Planes of Law [2e] Mechanus p10; Player’s Guide p26; Planescape Campaign Setting [2e] DM’s Guide p61
Source: Jon Winter-Holt