How The Gods Take Credit: Another Dwarven Tale Of P’tah And Others

I will tell you this: you’re not wrong when you say that almost all Gods want worshippers, and draw some kind of power from them. Perhaps there are Gods whose divine force really is measured by the sheer number of those who worship them. Or maybe their wealth, the cost of their offerings. Or their sacrifice, the level of pain (to the sacrifice) of those sacrifices. Maybe Gods become more powerful as mortals emulate their deeds. Maybe Gods who want the benefit of Humanity become more powerful as it does well, and those who want its destruction are…

…on vacation somewhere sunny, drunk out of their minds, with absolutely zero cares, being immortal and knowing they’ve got, what, somewhere between a dozen and a thousand years before Humanity obliterates itself and they win great power AND that China dish set that Goddess Grandma left to SOMEONE in the family, but the will was lost, and…

…anyway, most Creator Gods will, of course, take credit for the Creation. (At least, in a pretty little Universe like this one; your smog-filled streets may not be the first places YOUR Gods want to claim as their own).

But quite a lot of them, especially the ones who do not run pantheons, really like to get back to important stuff, which is to say, creating.

Poor Hephaestus was nagged so often by his wife that he ‘accidentally’ arranged for her to meet the most obnoxious entity he’d ever met at a party; naturally they hit it off and started slapping bedspreads, leaving the poor, lame maker-God the torture of having a nice clean workshop and a blazing-hot forge on which to work undisturbed.

Many Creator Gods will hide behind Trickster Gods. The Tricksters are so exciting, so fun, so funny; and there are a few Creator Gods who, though they realize most Tricksters are essentially very close to worthless as beings, find their zest invigorating. What is a trick, if not a complex act of creation to create a disproportionate and completely extraordinary response? It may not leave you with a palace or a continent, but the Story is likely to go on.

P’tah tends to hide behind Dionysus.

“Who, Me?”, he’ll ask. “Surely not. That fellow over there, he got my worshippers drunk. Is it my fault that drunk Humans punch, drunk Elves poison, and drunk Dwarves make things?”

We asked Dionysus if he minded. We thoughtfully brought him an amphora of wine taller than he was. Once he gets out, we’ll let you know what he said.