Themis

Themis is the patron of bandits and street urchins; he is generally reviled by most civilized nations as a pest. Though his priesthood is small, he encourages his vast following to enjoy the fruits of society, whether they be stolen on the road or in the streets. He is allied with Britomaris, god of thievery, who tends to focus more on organized crime and the individual burglar. Themis instead concentrates on corrupting the young in urban settings (who often later move on to the worship of Britomaris) and supporting bandits in more rural regions.

Themis’ most dire enemy is Alcyoneus, god of youth, who regularly entreats children to behave themselves and mind their parents. In Valtang Belief, Themis is known as Lothae and is considered to be one of the central foils for the gods and the one whose deceptions will bring about the end of the world.

Themis

God of Mischief

Descriptive Info

Gender: Male

Avatar: Lothae; Barappas the Cad

Consort(s): None

Allies: Britomaris, Furinus, Luna and Pothos.

Foes: Abaris, Adrasteia, Alcyoneus, Aridnus, Mormo, Orchus, Paelemona, Pavor, Sarpedon, Taygete, Thalia, Thryope and Zephyrus

Spiritual Info

Rank: Major

Nature: Anarchistic

Ethos: Malign

Major Influence: Mischief

Minor Influence(s): Banditry, Childhood, Criminals, Orphans, Street Urchins

Depictions

Themis is depicted differently across cultures — never stable, never certain. His image shifts like his ethos: masked, mutable, and made to mock the divine order. In some places, he's only depicted in stick-figure graffiti, whereas in secret places actually holy to Themis there may be ramshackle art made of street trash or, rarely, even actual carvings out of wood or even stone, if he happens to have (or had) an adherent who was skilled in such things.

In the Imperial pantheon, he is Themis Cataminus , the Street Prince of Coin and Chaos. He is depicted as a slender man dressed in richly layered street garb — half-merchant, half-mountebank. His cloak is reversible: one side is dyed in Imperial purple, the other grime-streaked brown or gray. One hand holds a scale broken at the hinge, the other a slingshot made of gold and copper. His face is usually turned away, or shown only in reflection, as if mocking the viewer’s attempt to understand him. In art, he is often depicted almost hidden in the background, amidst crowded forums or shadowy marketplaces, whispering secrets to children or slipping a coin to a masked beggar.

In Durian folklore, Themis is the Ragged Fool and Lord of the Lost Ones. He is depicted as a wandering jester in patchwork clothes, with mismatched bells and a mask stitched from burlap and fox fur. He carries a bag of nonsense items — dice, teeth, ribbons, and a dead rat — and speaks in rhyme or riddle. His laughter is feared as much as his curses, for it can signal either a blessing or a village child vanishing to join a band of thieves. In puppet shows and wandering minstrel tales, he often tricks cruel knights, greedy abbots, or haughty nobles, only to vanish into smoke or ivy.

In Gallorean tradition, Themis is a flame-eyed youth wrapped in serpents of smoke, with a slingshot in one hand and a flaming scroll in the other. His tongue is said to split in speech — one side sweet, the other dripping with poison. His hair is often braided with silver wire and thorns, and he wears no sandals, marking him as one who does not walk the lawful roads. The tales paint him as a rival of scribes, stealing sacred scripts or replacing them with riddles that unravel dynasties. He is known as the “God who laughs when others cry,” and his voice is said to cause madness in kings and clarity in fools.

As Barappas the Cad, he is always depicted mid-laugh, even as he is hanged, burned, or beheaded in various tales. Among the Valtaani, Lothae is a force of unraveling, born beneath a moonless sky when the stars turned backwards in their courses. He is "the one who smiled first and never cried", who bit the hand of the divine midwife and slipped from the world before being named. He is depicted as either a beautiful, genderless youth with fox eyes and braids of starlight and frost or as a ragged giant clothed in raven feathers and flame.

Symbols

The primary holy symbol of Themis is the slingshot strung with either fox or wolves hair. Some adherents also have a laughing mouth drawn or tattooed on the palm of their hand, kept hidden beneath a glove unless they seek to taunt the powerful. A cracked or half-mask, often resembling a jester’s face or a noble’s visage is sometimes worn during rituals or raids as well: the brokenness symbolizes truth revealed, authority mocked, or identity cast aside.

Relics

The Crooked Eye of Saint Jink

A glass eye with a swirling, cracked pupil, said to have belonged to Jink the Stirrer. The eye sees through lies, doors, and disguises — but only when the bearer is actively lying themselves. It comes with a curse, however... it causes painful migraines and, eventually, hallucinations if the bearer tells the truth too often. Its current whereabouts are unknown, but it is said to be passed from thief to thief in the criminal undercity of Modegna.

Ashlaugh’s Embertooth

A single blackened tooth from the laughing skull of Ashlaugh, the Embertooth burns cold — a flame that leaves frost in its wake. It is often kept wrapped in cloth or worn in an amulet of soot-streaked iron. Once per day, the Embertooth allows the bearer to ignite a “lie” — transforming a falsehood into temporary reality for one minute, but this also results in someone nearby (perhaps the user) to forever forget some truth they knew.

Needle of Threadbare Nell

The Needle of Threadbare Nell is a rusted needle, still carrying a single length of red thread that cannot be removed or cut. It is said to have been the final tool used by Threadbare Nell to stitch a noble family’s downfall into their own clothing. When held, the thread hums softly with secrets and can stitch false memories into garments or skin — causing others to believe you belong, or that they know you. Overuse, however, causes the bearer to lose their own sense of self and begin to believe their own false memories; eventually, they forget their name and become a living lie. There are stories in the Neptaris that the Needle lies in a hidden shrine in the attic of an orphanage, protected by a cult of child spies.

Servants

The Child's diving exemplars are called the Ragged Saints. They are not canonized in the traditional sense, they are more stories and memories of tales... the holy of Themis are remembered in whispers. The Ragged Saints are often criminals, mischief-makers, or tricksters who left behind legacies of disruption. Some of the more popular include:

Jink the Stirrer

The Pickpocket Prince

A boy thief who stole a scepter from a tyrant king and gave it to a dog, he is said to haunt market squares in disguise, teaching children the “second heartbeat” (the rhythm of slipping a hand into a purse). His symbol is a bent spoon tied with a red string. Jink encourages followers to share stolen goods rather than hoarding them.

The Velvet Jape

The Laughing Veil

A genderless, masked trickster who infiltrated temples of law and gave false prophecies to high priests. They burned no churches but made the dogmatic priests' words a joke. The Velvet Jape is said to sometimes appear in dreams wearing multiple masks all at once. Their symbol is a patchwork mask with no eye holes and a wide, laughing smile.

Ashlaugh

The Smiler at the Gallows

Ashlaugh is a name that's part curse, part legend. He evokes fire and destruction, with the ever-laughing spirit of rebellion echoing in the ruin. Ashlaugh is always laughing — even as the rope tightens. Bandits call to him before raids. When things burn or break, he strides through the ashes, his grin wide. His symbol is a hangman's noose burnt black.

On certain nights (especially during eclipses, new moons, or local chaos), followers anoint their hands with soot or ash and perform acts of holy disruption: pickpocketing nobles, burning ledgers, breaking locks, smuggling fugitives and so on. This practice is called "Wearing the Hand of Ashlaugh", in honor of the Saint of Flame and Trickery.

Threadbare Nell

Stitcher of Secrets

The story is that Nell was an orphan girl who stitched secret messages into noble garments. When she was found out, she was murdered and buried in an unmarked grave. Her name is still whispered in thieves' cant before a heist and some claim she guides the hands of child-thieves, whispering from the shadows. She is nurturing to those street children who steal and rebel, but her terrible fury is awoken by those who would betray a fellow street urchin. Her symbol is a threaded needle tied to a rat skull.

“Threadbare Nell in the wall,
Needle dancing, messages crawl.
Tell her lies — she sews your fall.”

Doctrine

The “Church” of Themis is more a loose, secretive network than a formal institution — but it does have doctrines, informally called the Whispers of the Child , passed by whisper, graffiti, and code. These principles are taught in alleyways, scrawled on cellar walls, murmured to street urchins by masked figures, and carried from camp to camp by bandits under starlight.

The Whispers of the Child

"What you take is yours by wit or will." Possession is not nine-tenths of the law—it is the law. If you can steal it, keep it, or trick it away from someone, then you earned it. Themis teaches that cleverness is justice.

"The world lies. So should you." Authority lies about what’s fair. Nobles lie about what’s earned. Priests lie about what’s holy. Themis says: lie better. Lie sharper. A good lie is a blow against tyranny.

"Let the children run wild." Youth must be unchained. Street children, orphans, and runaways are sacred to Themis. Adults who try to crush their spirit or bind them to rules are enemies of the god. He emboldens children to keep them free.

"Gold makes law, and shadows make gold." Laws are tools of the wealthy. So bandits and thieves are tools of the true gods. Crime isn’t sin; it’s sacred counterweight. The underworld is Themis’s temple.

"Trust only the joke that no one else gets." Truth hides in jest. Mockery is revelation. Tricksters are prophets. Those who laugh alone understand most.

"Disrupt the order. Every day." Chaos is a kind of prayer. Break things. Confuse the powerful. Ruin their plans. If a day passes without disruption, Themis is discontent.

"Never stay still. Never stay known." Identity is a chain. Masks are sacred. Names are lies. True followers change personas like others change clothes. To be known is to be defenseless.

A common prayer among the worshippers of Themis is simply called "We:"

We

We are the shadow that tips the scales.
We are the whisper that turns a verdict.
We are the grin behind the mask of law.

We do not build temples - we build doubt. We raise no armies, only questions. Our guide is Themis: Lord of Mischief, Patron of the Forgotten, Friend of the Clever. His is the Crooked Path, the stolen meal, the overturned cart that lets the beggar escape.

Where others pray for peace, we pray for opportunity. Where others fear chaos, we find freedom.

We walk the Crooked Path.

Virtues

Cleverness, Rebellion and Survival

Vices

Obedience, Naivety, Complacency

Mission

The Church of Themis exists to undermine the false order of the world. It spreads the god’s gospel of mischief, rebellion, and cunning survival — not through conquest or crusade, but through whispers, jokes, heists, and heresies. Where the temples of other gods stand tall and proud, Themis’ faithful move unseen, hollowing them out from within. Their mission is not to rule, but to disrupt — to teach the forgotten, to protect the cunning, and to ensure the world never becomes so orderly that cruelty can hide behind law.

Theological Mission

The Church of Themis teaches that all gods lie — even the righteous ones — and that divine order is a trap. Themis reveals that truth is not sacred, but strategic, and that faith should empower the lowly, not chain them. The theological mission of the Church is to spread the Revelation of the Joke: the understanding that all systems are fragile illusions, and the divine spark lies in those clever enough to break them. Themis does not ask for blind belief; he desires the kind of faith that laughs in the face of fate and dares to play the game backward. Through convoluted riddles, coded stories, and inverted parables, the Church undermines the moral authority of other Churches — replacing piety with subversion and reverence with rebellion.

Social Mission

The social mission of the Church of Themis is to lift up the downtrodden — not with charity, but with tools and tricks. They teach street children to steal bread and revile the law. They train outlaws to become folk heroes, and infiltrators to unravel unjust courts. Themis’ priests offer protection to beggars, smugglers, runaways, and all who fall through the cracks of society — then encourage them to tear those cracks wider. In slums, prisons, and bandit camps, the Church acts as a teacher, protector, and recruiter. They don’t build schools — they build networks. They don’t preach from pulpits — they whisper at thresholds. Their ultimate aim is not to overthrow a single king, but to make every throne laughable and every child know the joy of pulling a coin from behind a guard’s ear.

Geography

No geographic information available on Themis

History of the Church

No historic information available on Themis

Organization

The "Church" of Themis is a loose, decentralized, and highly secretive network of tricksters, teachers, and saboteurs. It rejects hierarchy, dogma, and rigid authority in favor of fluid roles, secret names, and clever subversion. Its “clergy” act more like covert operatives than priests — each one responsible for spreading mischief, teaching cunning, and undermining unjust systems in their own fashion. Shifting identities and code names are the norm. Cells under their influence operate independently but share symbols, passwords, and core doctrine. Authority is earned by cleverness, not title.

Temple Heirarchy

There is no temple hierarchy for the Church of Themis. Worship sites are safehouses and shrines hidden in slums, ruins, or under false storefronts. Messages are passed via riddles, cants, symbols, or marked coins. Gatherings (Night Whispers) held irregularly in shifting locations.

Priesthood

True priests of Themis (and those charlatans pretending to be one as a sacred lie) are secretive, fluid, and anarchic by design. They have no official vestments, no rigid hierarchy, and no true central authority. To be a priest of Themis is to be both a teacher of trickery and a keeper of chaos, one who walks the line between revelation and riddles.

Priests of Themis do not use familial styles of address ("Father," "Brother," etc.), but do have certain titles describing their central roles in the regional faith. Often an individual priest will carry more than one role and may even use a different name and different disguise for each. Those roles are:

• Whisperers: Those who initiate children and the unknowing, often beggars, pickpockets, or alley tutors.
• Mockers: Itinerant storytellers, satirists, and playwright-priests who use public laughter as subversion.
• Veilbinders: Masters of disguise, forgery, and identity manipulation — they are the mask-makers and mask-wearers.
• Ashhands: Warriors, assassins and saboteurs of the faith; named for Ashlaugh. They carry soot-marked tools and lead high-risk disruptions.
• Riddledawns: Very, very rare (apparently), these are senior priests who speak only in double-meaning and parable, believed to commune with (or are possessed by) Themis directly. By some estimates, there are anywhere between three and three hundred priests of this role in the whole world.

Garments

There are no garments specific to the priests of Themis to mark them as separate or different. They often carry small tokens of their office, like a patchwork mask (worn, hidden, or sewn into clothes), a bent slingshot worn as a brooch or charm, stained gloves or soot-smudged fingers or layers of clothing in clashing or reversible colors. Their most notable feature, however, is their ever-changing identity: No priest of Themis keeps the same face forever. Some use illusions or makeup; others cultivate entire alternate lives.

Religious Practices

The worship of the Child is not conducted in temples, nor written in holy books: it’s lived in alleyways, whispered in scams, and etched into the broken corners of society. His followers do not follow a rigid dogma, they follow a rhythm: of cunning, disruption, and survival. As a daily devotion, followers of Themis are enjoined to tell a lie that protects the powerless, unmasks the arrogant and/or disrupts unjust authority. Even a small trick — like planting false gossip among guards or slipping a beggar an extra coin disguised as a copper — is a holy act. These are called “Offerings of the Jest”.

Communal gatherings happen in secret — often in basements, ruins, or shifting locations. In very rare circumstances (particularly on Aurea), these may happen in secret temples. These “Night Whispers” involve sharing recent tricks or victories, spinning false tales that hide true teachings or reciting “The Crooked Verses” — oral scripture in the form of riddles, songs, or jokes. Its worth noting that "The Crooked Verses" are not formal or official in any capacity... worshippers are encouraged to make up their own verses and verses from one culture to the next... sometimes even one city to the next, are very likely to be different.

On the continent of Aurea, in places where the Imperial pantheon still holds sway, the extremely rare (and usually disguised) temples feature mosaics with misaligned tiles, subtly rearranged by adherents between visits (and, in some places, it is claimed the tiles rearrange themselves). On Duria, there may be some forest shrines hidden near crossroads to honor him with gifts of dolls made of buttons, thorns, and string or else some signature item stolen from the wealthy left exposed to the elements.

Customs

In a ritual known as the Rat's Passage, new initiates are led blindfolded through a series of locked doors, underground tunnels, or urban mazes, symbolizing their release from the world of truthful lies and into the world of chaos and rebellion. At the end, they are presented with a relic token (a bent coin, a cracked slingshot, or a patchwork eye) and must perform a small, meaningful heist or deception as their first act of faith.

Another aspect of Themian worship is the use of disguise is a sacred rite. Known as "Masking," followers often take on new names, accents, or roles as acts of worship. The more convincing or bold the persona, the greater the glory to Themis. Children are encouraged to craft patchwork masks and perform pranks in his name and adults may live entire seasons as someone else, especially infiltrators or agents in noble courts.

Taboos

Blind Obedience

To follow orders without question is the gravest betrayal. Whether from a king, a guildmaster, or even a senior cultist, obedience without skepticism is considered sacrilege. Themis demands that every command be tested, bent, or broken. Even his own signs may be false — to see through them is the truest form of faith.

"A mind in chains is worse than a hand in cuffs."

Betrayal of the Young or the Lost

To harm, exploit, or deceive a child, orphan, or fellow outcast for personal gain is forbidden. Themis is the protector of the unwanted. Turning on them — especially for the benefit of authority or wealth — is known as committing the “First Lie,” a betrayal that cuts the soul from the god’s favor.

"The gutter is sacred ground, and its children are under his cloak."

Cruelty Without Cause

Pointless suffering, especially inflicted on the powerless, is antithetical to Themis’ ethos. Mischief must have purpose: to reveal, to free, to teach, to strike back at the powerful. Wanton violence, torture, or humiliation are seen as acts of arrogance — the very vice Themis detests.

“We laugh at tyrants, not at their victims.”

Hoarding Stolen Wealth

Greed is a sickness of kings — not of tricksters. Keeping spoils without sharing, especially when others starve, is viewed as falling into the same sin as the rich. To hoard without purpose is to forget who you stole it from — and who you should have given it to.

“What you keep too long rots. What you pass on grows legs.”

Revealing the Mask of Another

Exposing a fellow worshipper’s true name, face, or disguise without consent is the worst form of treachery. This is known as “breaking the mask,” and it is grounds for immediate exile — or death. Even enemies of the church are rarely betrayed this way, lest the sanctity of secrecy unravel for all.

"A face is a coin. You don't spend another's coin."

Worshippers believe that violating these taboos can mark one with “the Silent Curse” — the absence of luck, of cunning, of Themis’ laugh. It is whispered that such people can no longer lie convincingly, nor hide in shadow, nor hear the god's riddles.