In a heroic world where angels, demons, and the walking dead mingle in the affairs of mortals, where the awesome power of prayer can heal the sick, raise the fallen, and part the seas, why is everyone not a priest of unswerving devotion? Many times players want to make a character that has no affection for any specific deity, and perhaps even animosity towards the entire pantheon. While it seems that agnostic and atheistic beliefs are an anachronism, they have their place in a fantasy setting. Use these ten ideas for your next godless character.
Only old souls may speak words that the gods will hear, and a string of reincarnations leads inexorably to a strong bond with the powers of the Afterlife. However, you are a young soul, a child-spirit who has no rapport with the Great Judges of the Dead. Thus, you must do without the power to sway the Laws of the Universe — at least for this lifetime. If your deeds are great, however, the Keepers of the Eternal Records will stand in awe, and bless your next lifetime with power over the very turning of the sky.
The long-slumbering god of your great grandfathers is an old and exhausted deity, who forged the world and set the stars in their heavens long before the coming of men and elves. He has no time for hearing prayers, fast asleep on his vast throne above the heavens — those who invoke his awesome name, in fact, set themselves ready to suffer greatly upon the waking of the High Eldest. Better then, simply to raise a glass of ale quietly to him with each meal, and to live a life that will not stir him from his dreams.
As many others reared in a deeply religious community, the lessons of love for the Harvest-God and fear of Hell were seared into you before you could speak. Yet you possessed a gift unseen for generations — inborn talent with a blade. You asked, in secret, a bargain with the Harvest-God, for the love of Jessandra, you would forsake the sword to become a farmer. She chose the love of the Mayor’s son. You departed to make your way in the world without a god — only a blade.
You believe that the gods are holding back the rest of the world from reaching true enlightenment. They do not really care about the faithful, but merely the power that worship brings. Those that die do not journey to some idyllic afterlife, but rather become slaves for the immortals. If people knew the secrets of the universe as the gods do, they would have no need to worship divine entities, and could forge their own destinies free of divine influence. This does not mean that you do not believe in the gods, but merely that they are not as worthy of respect or adoration as many claim.
Arcane magic is your god, your salvation, and your creed. With it, you can overcome almost anything the world can throw against you. Even death is no obstacle when one holds the power of magic in hand. You respect the gods for the power they hold, but do not bow down to them. They are simply beings that have mastered arcane magic in ways that ordinary mortals have not. Clerics receive adoration for their dedication and devotion, but reliance on divine entities for power holds them back. You have no such restrictions.
Just as you would not marry a man who did not propose to you, hire a servant who could not be bothered to apply, or take as a confidant someone who sent a cousin to demand your favor; you will take no god as a patron who does not seek you out. After all, any being deserving of worship must behave like a civilized creature, and meet with you personally. As no deities have met your simple requests, you have no particular reason to meet theirs.
Destiny subverts even the will of the gods. The true path of enlightenment lies in the single unwavering truth that the gods themselves seek to hide. The only true exercise of faith is to be true to the heart and make choices unhindered by the beliefs of others. The gods, in their hubris, believe that they can subvert free will, but you know better. Their own machinations are part of the grand design, and easy for you to ignore. While most people spend time in prayer and communion, you reflect deeply upon your choices. Unlike the masses, you know you have only yourself to blame for misstep.
It is the oldest reason in the world, but perhaps the truest. The gods love us not. Oh, they are all right — watching, manipulating, and toying. However, they remain as pitiless as a foodless winter, as remorseless as a burning summer lost at sea, and as indifferent as the plague. You will bow and scrape, sure. You will humble yourself and mutter praises, blending in with those around you. The gods’ power commands the behavior. Their threat demands it. Why abase yourself by asking favors like a legless beggar? Just as no abused slaves ever love their masters, you will never care about the gods.
You are a philodox. You love beliefs even though you hold none of your own. The tradition and rituals of others, even of your enemies, endlessly fascinate you. Missionaries are often encouraged by your eagerness to learn, but soon find disappointment in your inability to submit to one faith. Though you are very practical in your everyday life, you know more about religion than many of your devout friends. The teachings of various religions have aided you in the past, and you see no reason to confine yourself to just one.