King of Play

The city of Lifworðig is sometimes called the City of a Thousand Gods. This is true - though even that is an understatement. When the Clarati sorcerer Illustrata ruled the region, his experiments with the Egregoric Force dramatically lowered the threshold for Numina to manifest. Elsewhere in the world, it takes hundreds of believers and years of devotion to bring a new god into being. In Lifworðig, however, stray thoughts and passing notions - pondered for only a few minutes - can trigger an entity to appear. These Numina are unstable and vanish as quickly as they emerge once the thinker's attention shifts. Yet, if they can attract notice while they exist, they may manage to eke out a fragile life lasting longer than a single train of thought.

The Smallest Gods

Many of the newly manifested Numina are born from children's imaginations. They appear as playmates and monsters, filling the world around their creators with magic. Some are dangerous, shaped by childhood fears - though they usually terrify rather than harm. Others take the form of tricksters, heroes, or steadfast companions. All are fragile, existing only so long as the child continues to play, and fading quickly once attention shifts. Those that endure longer than a few hours often anchor themselves to a beloved toy, or to a dark hiding place - under the bed, or inside the closet. No one can say how many come into being and vanish again in a single day, but many manage to linger for a time. Over the centuries, a number of these have coalesced into a pantheon of their own, passed down from child to child and mostly forgotten by adults.

The ruler of this pantheon is the god known as the King of Play. No one can say how long he has existed - children who know of him insist he has always been there. He is not a playmate or a monster himself, but the grownup in the room: the authority figure who protects the child-gods from adults and can face the adult world on equal terms. He enforces the rules and ensures fair play. If a boogeyman grows violent toward children, the King of Play restrains it. When an imaginary friend begins to fade as its child grows older, the King seeks out a new home and a new child. Most importantly, he remembers those who have already faded, recording their names in his great book - for those born of imagination only truly die when they are wholly forgotten.

The Temple of Small Gods

The King of Play is anchored to the Temple of Small Gods. Built by the Numina Salvation Society - an organization devoted to protecting and nurturing the newborn Numina of Lifworðig - the temple serves as both sanctuary and shrine. The Society regards the King of Play as their patron. Though he is not quite a small god himself, his subjects are, and he depends on the Society in many of his preservation efforts. Volunteers collect toys that have become anchors for imaginary friends, cleaning and repairing them, then sustaining them with thoughts and prayers. Children know they can come to the Temple to encounter the child-gods, and there are always a few lingering near the King of Play's shrine - or near the shrines of other great childhood gods such as the Hare, the Dreamkeeper, or The Urchin.

The King and the Urchin

Children pray for many things - some for friendship, some for toys, and some for happiness. The King sends the imaginary friends to do what they can. None of the small gods, not even the King himself, possess great power - but they care for children’s prayers, and they strive to answer them.

Then there are the children who pray for relief: for protection from the adults around them, or for vengeance against those who harm them. When the King hears such prayers, he sends The Urchin. The Urchin is his enforcer, the answer to desperate pleas for help - and they are not known for mercy or restraint. Tales of The Urchin's deeds are whispered by the city’s children in the dark, for when The Urchin is sent, or summoned, blood will flow.