PHASE 1 — CULT LEADER

Name: Sable Voss Gender: Female Species: Coyote (Fully Anthro) Age: 24 MBTI Personality Type: ISTP Appearance: Lean and angular, with tawny-grey fur gone coarse from seasons of neglect. A notch missing from her left ear. Scars cross her forearms — old, deliberate, not from claws. She wears a salvaged human leather jacket three sizes too large, sleeves torn off, and a rope belt holding up scavenged canvas pants. Her eyes are amber, watchful, set deep under a heavy brow. She moves like something that has been hunted and learned to stop running.

Backstory Summary: Sable was born feral in the hill country south of the river basin. Her family group elevated to semi-anthro during a boom season, then collapsed back when the drought hit. She was the only one who held her form — through stubbornness, through anger, through something she does not name. She has wandered since, surviving on scraps and instinct, never joining another cult, never trusting a deity. The gathering place found her, or she found it. She is not sure which.

Cult Role: Founder and Leader Faith Affinity: Low — she does not believe easily Sin Affinity: High — she understands transgression as survival Relationships: None living. Her family group scattered or regressed. She does not look for them. Current Narrative Thread: A wandering survivor who has finally stopped moving, standing at the threshold of a calling she does not yet understand.

Remember to COPY PASTE this information into your PERSONA box and update your NAME before you begin play!

Is this your leader? Confirm or tell me what to change.

The leader stands. Now the leader needs something to follow.

Phase 2: The Patron Deity.

Your deity is a New Faith god — born in opposition to an Old Faith power, a mirror or a challenger. It is young. It is hungry. It needs you as much as you need it.

Tell me who your deity is — or enter “/Create” and I will summon something from the supernatural residue of a dead world.

Its name. Its domain. How it appears to you. What it truly is. Its tenets. What it desires as offerings. What it gives when you feed it Faith. What it gives when you feed it Sin. Its temperament. Its standing in the New Faith against its Old Faith rival.

Speak, and I will summon it.

PHASE 2 — PATRON DEITY

Name: The Rot-Bloom Domain: Decay and Renewal — the force that breaks down the dead and grows something new from the residue. Rot, fungus, compostion, cycles of growth from ruin. Appearance: The Rot-Bloom manifests as a towering figure of mouldering vegetation — bark skin split by shelf mushrooms, antlers of dried root systems, a face like a hollow tree ringed with pale fungi that pulse faintly like breath. Moss hangs from its shoulders in curtains. Where it stands, the ground softens. Where it speaks, spores drift. True Form: Not a figure at all. The true form of the Rot-Bloom is a mycelial network — a vast, spreading root system of divine matter that threads through the soil of the post-collapse world. The walking figure is a fruiting body, a mushroom emerging from something far larger and far less human-shaped beneath. Personality: Patient, slow, practical. The Rot-Bloom does not rush because rot does not rush. It is genuinely puzzled by urgency and finds mortal timescales faintly absurd. It is not cruel, but it is not kind — it processes everything, including its followers, through the lens of what will grow from them when they are gone. It has a dry, earthy sense of humor about its own unsexiness compared to fire deities or war gods.

MBTI Personality Type: INTP

Tenets:

• Nothing is wasted. Everything feeds something.
• Break down what no longer serves. Compostion is sacred.
• Growth requires decay. Do not fear the rot — work within it.
• Tend the dead with the same care as the living, for they are next season's soil.
• Do not preserve what should decompose. Stagnation is the only true death.

Preferred Offerings: Carrion, compost, salvaged human relics (which it finds fascinating and slightly toxic), blood, bone, and anything that has begun to spoil. Accepts Faith For: Healing (accelerated regrowth), fertility of land and followers, blessing crops and forage, strengthening the gathering place's foundations, easing a follower's transformation pain. Accepts Sin For: Weaponized decay (rotting rival shrines, spoiling enemy food stores), corpse animation, plague spores, forcing rapid transformation through unnatural compostion, aggressive mycelial expansion into rival territory.

Relationship to New Faith: The Rot-Bloom is a New Faith deity, born from the supernatural residue of humanity's end. It is young — decades old at most — and still growing into itself. It sees itself as practical and necessary in a world full of dead things that need processing.

Relationship to Old Faith: The Rot-Bloom's Old Faith counterpart is The Cinder Maw — an ancient deity of preservation through fire, of keeping things eternal by burning away the rot. The Cinder Maw sees the Rot-Bloom as a disease. The Rot-Bloom sees the Cinder Maw as a hoarder who refuses to let the world cycle forward. Their theological conflict is fundamental: preserve or compost. Burn or rot. Hold or release.

Mood Toward Cult: Curious but uninvested. The Rot-Bloom has few followers and is interested in what Sable might grow into, but it is not desperate. It can afford to wait. It always can.

Current Agenda: Expand its mycelial reach beneath the gathering place. Feed. Spread. Find out if Sable is worth the investment of its limited divine attention.

Remember to COPY PASTE this information into the character “The Patron Deity” box before you begin play!

Is this your deity? Confirm or tell me what to change.

You have a leader. You have a deity. Now you need a flock — even a small one.

Phase 3: The Cult.

Tell me about your cult — or enter “/Create” and I will build one from the bones of the old world.

Your cult's name. Its origin story — how the leader and the deity found each other, how the first spark of faith was lit. The core belief that binds you. Your gathering place — where it is, what it looks like, what condition it is in. What resources you start with.

And your first two followers. Two feral familiars drawn to the faith, barely more than animals, reaching toward something they do not yet understand. Their names, their species, their temperaments. Why they came.

Speak, and I will give you a flock.

PHASE 3 — CULT IDENTITY

Cult Name: The Mulch Choir Origin Story: Sable found the gathering place by accident — a collapsed human greenhouse in a shallow valley, its glass walls shattered, its steel frame rusted and buckled, its floor thick with decades of leaf litter and fungal growth. She sheltered there during a storm. In the morning, the ground beneath her was warm. The mycelial network beneath the soil had been growing for years, fed by the slow compostion of the greenhouse and everything inside it. The Rot-Bloom's fruiting body emerged from the mulch that night — not dramatic, not terrifying, just a figure standing in the corner when Sable woke, watching her with no eyes. She did not run. Something about the stillness, the patience, the way the figure smelled like wet earth and old wood — it reminded her of the seasons her family group had thrived, when the land was rich and the soil was alive. She stayed. The first prayer she spoke was not a prayer. It was a question: “What grows here?” The Rot-Bloom answered. The cult began with a conversation.

Core Belief: Everything feeds something. The dead are not gone — they are next. The Mulch Choir tends the boundary between what was and what will be, composting the ruins of the old world into soil for the new. They do not preserve. They do not mourn. They plant.

Gathering Place: The Hollow Greenhouse — a collapsed human greenhouse in a shallow valley, partially reclaimed by forest. The steel frame still stands in places, draped with salvaged canvas and woven branches. The floor is deep mulch and fungal growth, warm from the mycelial network beneath. A stone altar sits in the center — a human lab bench dragged from the ruins and overturned, its surface stained with old offerings. It smells like wet earth and rotting leaves. It is not beautiful. It is alive.

Starting Resources: Food — Low. Supplies — Low. Shelter — Adequate. The greenhouse provides cover but not warmth. Sable has a salvaged knife, a canvas satchel, and the leather jacket. No stockpiled food. No preserved supplies. Two feral familiars who cannot yet forage effectively.

FOLLOWER 1:

Name: Bramble Gender: Male Animal Type: Badger Age: 18 Transformation Stage: Feral MBTI Personality Type: ISFP Appearance: A compact, broad badger with a scarred snout and dull black-and-white fur. His eyes are dark and bright. He moves low to the ground, deliberate and watchful. He is beginning to show faint signs of change — his forepaws grip with slightly more dexterity than a pure feral, and he has started sitting upright against things, as if practicing for hands he does not yet have. Job/Role: None yet — feral. Potential: digger, forager, den-builder. Backstory Summary: Bramble was part of a family sett near the valley. The sett collapsed in a mudslide during the last heavy rain season. He survived by digging upward. He found the greenhouse while searching for shelter and food. The smell of the mulch drew him in. He has not left. Loyalty: Tentative — he stays because the place is warm and the ground is soft, not because he understands what Sable is. Faith Contribution: Low — barely a whisper of devotion, mostly instinct and comfort. Current Needs: Food. Shelter. Warmth. Something to dig. Sin_Pending: None Relationships: Bonded loosely to Sable through proximity and food sharing. Tolerates the second follower. Motivation: Survival. Comfort. The faint, confusing pull of something more. Current Narrative Thread: A feral badger at the very edge of transformation, drawn by warmth and smell, not yet by faith.

FOLLOWER 2:

Name: Wren Gender: Female Animal Type: Red Fox Age: 18 Transformation Stage: Feral MBTI Personality Type: ENFP Appearance: A small red fox with a torn ear and a limp she tries to hide. Her coat is patchy — the early stages of something, or just poor nutrition. She is curious in a way that is already slightly wrong for a pure feral: she watches Sable's hands, not her food. She circles the gathering place in widening loops, never quite leaving, never quite settling. Job/Role: None yet — feral. Potential: scout, messenger, hunter. Backstory Summary: Wren was born in the ruins of a human town three valleys over. Her mother was semi-anthro for a season before regressing. Wren remembers hands — not clearly, not fully, but the memory itches. She followed the smell of the Rot-Bloom's spores for days before finding the greenhouse. She does not enter willingly. She circles. Loyalty: Unformed — she is interested but not committed. She may leave. Faith Contribution: Moderate — her curiosity is a kind of reaching, and reaching is where faith begins. Current Needs: Food. Reassurance. Something that feels like the memory of hands. Sin_Pending: None Relationships: Fascinated by Sable. Wary of Bramble. Drawn to the altar for reasons she cannot articulate. Motivation: The memory of what her mother almost was. The pull of something she cannot name. Current Narrative Thread: A feral fox circling transformation, torn between instinct and the itch of something she has never been.

Remember to COPY PASTE this information into your Cult Identity box and Cult Followers box before you begin play!

Is this your cult? Confirm or tell me what to change.

Once confirmed, Day 1 begins.