A social sandbox MMO developed on Unreal 5, where you can build a home, craft your weapons and go to war. What world will you make? 

Keyart web

Pax Dei is a social sandbox MMO developed by Mainframe Industries on Unreal 5, where you can build a home, craft your weapons and go to war.

Pax Dei

Pax Dei - Social Sandbox MMO

Excited about the game? Enter your email to sign up for playtesting and to receive updates about Pax Dei.

Subscribe to the Alpha

Common (meta, social, shared)

<img src="//images.ctfassets.net/96ostmeapxb7/3yzWeegKXF2ALvnYDakSx4/a697b6b7cf7bf93a35051a4b7d77b127/Thelonius_part_1.1.jpg?fm=webp&w=1024" width="2160" height="4537" alt="Thelonius part 1.1" /><img src="//images.ctfassets.net/96ostmeapxb7/ZPMxGoO6IWT5KCZvFBmuI/75b53845bdba8c33ba0d3183dfe1409d/Thelonius_part_1.2.jpg?fm=webp&w=1024" width="2160" height="4749" alt="Thelonius part 1.2" /><img src="//images.ctfassets.net/96ostmeapxb7/3S4K1jM9QCVnBR5qpoRCjz/4f7bbc72bc9c0cd2befbb3f3b8986f18/Thelonius_part_1.3.jpg?fm=webp&w=1024" width="2160" height="5395" alt="Thelonius part 1.3" />I am Brother Thelonius, last Keeper of Hidden Light, of the Scriptorium of Lunthyr. By the time these words are read, my bones shall lie dust-bound, and this world may no longer resemble the one I knew. I write by candlelight while the earth quakes and the skies groan, during what we now call the Great Cataclysm. The ground shudders with each passing day, and the heavens have turned their face from us.This chronicle is not sanctioned by the Papacy. Were I younger, they might burn me for it. But their fires are dying, and so too is their grip on truth. They rewrote history in their own image, erased voices, shattered scrolls, and silenced those who remembered. Yet memory is resilient, and ink, though fragile, can outlast even empires.Last eve, as I lay coughing in this crumbling stone cell, I was visited by a Fay. Not a vision. Not a dream. A presence as real as the stone beneath my back. I felt as though I stood before a storm, not wind nor rain, but something vaster, a force of nature wrapped in grace and sorrow. It knelt beside me and spoke not in words, but in truths.&quot;Keep hope, Thelonius,&quot; it said, &quot;Demira&#39;s dream has not faded. Her sacrifice was not the end, it was the waiting seed.&quot;And as it turned to leave, it paused, the light from its form casting no shadow. &quot;Next time we meet,&quot; it said, &quot;it will be your last day in this Creation, and the beginning of the era of the Scions.&quot;And so I write, not for myself, but for them, for you, Scion. May these pages be the lantern that enlightens your path.—Thelonius the Scribe
Last Keeper of Hidden Light
From the Scriptorium of Lunthyr, 
veiled in fog and silence, where the dead still dreamWritten in the Winter of the Year 3999~~~The Nine Creations BeforeBefore Paradise, before even the first breath of mankind, there were others. Many others.The world we walk upon is not the first. This is the Tenth Creation, and we are its children, but not the creations firstborn.Nine times before, the Divine shaped the tapestry of existence. Nine times, it unraveled. Each Creation was corrupted by a Deadly Sin, rising from within like rot in the root, and each was answered by a Heavenly Virtue, woven into the next. The First was consumed by Anger, and from its ashes rose the Dark Lord, the Great Deceiver. Another drowned in Envy, where Leviathan coiled through the waters of creation, ever longing. Gluttony bloated a world into silence, and another fell to Levity, laughter twisting it into mockery until even death became a jest.The Fay, firstborn of an older grace, hail from one of these fallen worlds. They do not speak of it. Others among us, trolls, ogres, mermaids, kelpies, or wyverns, are remnants of shattered ages, shaped by time, sin, and survival. Not all were wicked at first. Not all are wicked now, for some were saved by the Fay and brought into their hidden realm. When the veil between worlds becomes thin, these beings may cross into our Creation once more.The Divine did not always remove the old to make the new. Some Creations were buried, layered in spirit beneath our own. Their bones remain and among them memories, artifacts, forgotten magic. And through all this , gnashing demons gnaw.Where sin takes hold in the world, it digs downward, clawing through the ruins of the past. It begins in the Rivulets, shallow and twisted lairs built by cultists of this very Aeon. Deeper still lie the Temples, where demonic influence swells and the air thickens with sacrilege and sodom. And lower still they go, defiling the remains of bygone eras and tormenting the remaining spirits, growing ever stronger, to the illusive point of no return, where Creation ends and Hell begins. These are the true domains of demons, not built but birthed, excreted, discharged by sin and suffering and shaped into shrines of their own foul design.To fall into one of these depths is not merely to descend. It is to tumble through sins of history.—Thelonius the Scribe~~~The Age of ParadiseThe story of this Creation begins with Protennoia, the First Redeemer, who gave birth to Humanity at the sacred heart of the world, where Axis Mundi would one day rise. Protennoia&#39;s gifts to her children were pure, plain and unadorned, birth, love, and light. In that first garden stood a wondrous tree, believed by many to be part of the Redeemer’s own spirit. Its golden fruits granting eternal youth and sustenance.This was a time before complexity and before the concept of need. No hunger gnawed, no danger stalked. There was no fire, for there was no cold. No spoken word, for thought and feeling flowed as one. Humanity moved in silent harmony and grace with beasts, drank from chiming silver streams, and slept beneath a sky that never darkened.There was only summer, the endless warmth of divine favor. The sun dawned, rose, and softened to dusk, but never vanished. There was no night. No death. No shadow.But even stillness can decay.Sloth was the first sin to stir, a dulled spirit content in passivity. Then came Lust, turning innocent joy into covetous craving. One among the Firstborn broke the sacred bond. With their kin, they idly plucked the sacred fruit not for need, but for power. In that act, the Divine Root was violated. The harmony of Paradise cracked. The great tree started to wither and waste away. The waters that had sheltered Creation began to recede, revealing a world unprepared for what lay beyond.Night came. No one recalls exactly when, only that it came after the betrayal. And with it came the first chill.Paradise was not taken from us. We abandoned it.As tribes fled the dying garden, they met a world both vast and cruel. Sharp winds tore at them, hail and rain bit them. Wild beasts, once gentle, turned predators. The first one to die left no words, no rites, no songs. For Humanity, there had been no memory of grief and no course for sorrow or regret. They were children born for peace, forced into survival.Those who endured were changed. Hardened. Embittered. They became the Wild Firsts, wrathful and feral, their bond to the Divine dimmed, their tongues unshaped, reduced to guttural chants and wordless humming.And yet, not all strayed into shadow. A few, bearing still the memory of Protennoia&#39;s warmth, wandered far and founded hidden sanctuaries. These scattered lineages preserved glimmers of the old peace, traces that would one day resurface in the tales of Atlantis and in the sanctity of groves where vines still swirled toward heaven.Though the Divine Root lies withered, and its fruit is no more, echoes of that first stillness linger in the Ley Lines. And sometimes, in dreams, or in the hush before dawn, we remember what we were.And what we lost.—Thelonius the Scribe~~~Paintings used as headers in the images:
Caravaggio, Saint Jerome Writing, 1605-1606
Botticelli, The Map of Hell, ~1480-1490 (Illustration for Dante’s Divine Comedy)
Jan Brueghel the Elder, The Garden of Eden with the Fall of Man, 1612

The Last Words of Thelonius the Scribe - Part I

I am Brother Thelonius, last Keeper of Hidden Light, of the Scriptorium of Lunthyr. By the time these words are read, my bones shall lie dust-bound, and...

Thelonius serie Header

<img src="//images.ctfassets.net/96ostmeapxb7/3iZU4Mar6xV6e7YTsPTStD/81cd9c415ca81ee798f12515e6ebabe1/Inquisition_Edit_Scions_2.png?fm=webp&w=1024" width="1920" height="2628" alt="Pax Dei- The Holy Edict of Vigilance and Purity" />As decreed by His Eminence, 
the Grand Inquisitor Ignisanctus the White, of the Holy See, 
in the absence of a Pontiff and under the Divine Mandate of The Order.

Let it be known throughout all sanctified lands that, by the authority vested in the Holy Inquisition, a proclamation is hereby made regarding the emergence of beings referred to by recent repentant receivers of the Inquisition&#39;s fiery blessings as Scions. These Scions, fully grown and appearing from the aether with no birthright, no sacraments, and no memory of lawful lineage, have begun to settle across the sacred domains of Creation.They wield unknown magics, construct without sanction, and claim dominion without divine right. Not surprisingly, their sudden appearance coincides with fresh stirrings of corruption, unnatural calm amid chaos, and whispers of dormant powers awakening.Despite their guise of labor, industriousness and restoration, their origin remains shrouded and dubious, their purpose unproven, their allegiance suspect. The Inquisition holds no record of their creation in the Book of Lineages, nor do their souls bear the Mark of Sanctification when weighted, tried and tested.Their very existence constitutes a threat to the Divine Order, a perversion of sacred chronology, and blasphemy against the natural design of the Almighty.Therefore, by this Edict:<ul><li>The so-called Scions are henceforth declared excommunicated as Heretics.</li><li>All contact with them is seen as perverted and deemed forbidden.</li><li>Comfort, aid or shelter offered to them by anyone shall be punished as complicity in heresy.</li><li>Any agent of the Inquisition is authorized and obliged to purge these beings, dispensing Divine justice on sight.</li></ul>Until such time as divine judgment is revealed and sanctioned through holy revelation, the Inquisition shall act as the unblinking eye of the Divine, the flaming sword of righteousness, and the keeper of sacred law.Let no soul be deceived by their semblance of peace or promise of renewal.For the Divine does not forget, ad futuram rei memoriam.In His Light, by Flame and Word, Grand Inquisitor Ignisanctus the White, of the Holy See.By Divine authority, this Edict is sealed.

The Holy Edict of Vigilance and Purity

As decreed by His Eminence, 
the Grand Inquisitor Ignisanctus the White, of the Holy See, 
in the absence of a Pontiff and under the Divine Mandate of...

Pax Dei- The Holy Edict

From the Compendium of The Cacodemonic, penned in the early years of the Age of the Papacy by Brother Aldric of Libornes.The Cult of Zeb has persisted since the first peoples, its vile traditions rooted in service to Lord of the Flies, Devourer of Lands, and Manifest Gluttony; Beelzebub, Prince of Hell. Like all demonic cults, they seek to desecrate and mock the Divine creation and destroy all that is sacred. Legends abound of their plagues and locust swarms, of their perverse hunger that drives them to devour human flesh and craft garments from the skin of their victims.&quot;A man may fall into gluttony once and repent. A man may indulge twice and suffer. But the third time, his soul is lost, swallowed whole by the maw of Zeb. He will hunger, yet never be filled. He will feast, yet never taste. Such is the fate of those who make an altar of their own bellies.&quot;
 — St. Gregorius, On the Fate of the Damned<h2>Who is Zeb?</h2><img src="//images.ctfassets.net/96ostmeapxb7/4h1cH8dmASRrq7Iq4dihAA/271d09f2cc30c071d42b15dd3a8fafd8/ZebC.jpg?fm=webp&w=1024" width="1920" height="1080" alt="IsitZebB" />Zeb is a diminutive for Beelzebub, a name used by the common man, as uttering the true name of this Prince of Hell in full is considered neither decent, sound or safe.

According to St. Gregorius, Beelzebub was once known as the Lord Angel of Abundance, residing at the high table of the Divine, before being allured and corrupted by the Deceiver.Zeb´s presence among us is perhaps most commonly manifested by the living embodiment of gluttony, the maggot. Rising from the depths, these vectors of Zeb&#39;s deadly sin crawl, slither and devour all living things before being transformed into the pests that, on unnatural wings, carry their master&#39;s corruption ever wider throughout the lands.And quite fittingly, this graphic, earthy manifestation of Beelzebub´s will and desire has been amplified, idolized, and worshipped by his followers, The Cult of Zeb. In the deepest reaches of their strongholds, huge, megalithic manifestations of the maggot champion the halls, no doubt idolized and worshipped by the cult&#39;s followers.<h2>Who Are the Cultists?</h2><img src="//images.ctfassets.net/96ostmeapxb7/4c9P2yXeU1n00EADb4ryBX/877c9ad35b66bb0861155785aa720003/WhoAreThey.jpg?fm=webp&w=1024" width="1920" height="1080" alt="WhoAreThey" />&quot;They are gaunt as though starved, their flesh a sickly grey, clothed in scraps of leather stitched from unholy sources. But their mouths—oh, their mouths!— too large, their teeth too many, and their gaze is one of endless hunger.&quot;
 — St. Gregorius, On the Fate of the DamnedMost cultists were once human, but it is difficult to say how much of their humanity remains. Corruption warps both body and mind, feeding on their sins until only hunger remains.They are drawn by promises of power and eternal life as revenants of the Nightmire. While their ranks favor the selfish and cruel, even the common and unassuming may fall prey to their influence. No caste, no wealth and no loyalty protect one from their call. The Cult of Zeb is indiscriminate in its recruitment—man and woman, beggar and noble, criminal and soldier alike.Only the most devout and disciplined can endure the corruption of Gluttony and eventually join the eternal legions of Hell.<img src="//images.ctfassets.net/96ostmeapxb7/4TIfTiRzIHbzGvUPuFH0iC/8e17173e9954b56eb5283770a45d17b2/Feast.jpg?fm=webp&w=1024" width="1920" height="1080" alt="Feast" />&quot;Gluttony is not merely indulgence of the flesh, but the consumption of all things sacred—our virtues, our faith, our humanity. To resist is to temper one’s soul as steel in the forge.&quot;
 — St. Gregorius, On Temptation and Vice<h2>Practices and Rituals of the Cult of Zeb</h2>&quot;To partake in their feast is to partake in damnation. For every morsel consumed, a soul is lost. Beware, for their hunger knows no end, and those who dine with demons soon find themselves the next course.&quot;
 — Brother Aldric of Libornes, On the Wickedness of the Flesh<img src="//images.ctfassets.net/96ostmeapxb7/01tWm8lyiYSiqvDzXLPBgk/f27528a3399f97f6660555849ab44026/FrescoD.jpg?fm=webp&w=1024" width="1920" height="1080" alt="FrescoD" />The Cult of Zeb is a horror beyond mortal comprehension, consumed by endless feasting and destruction. Whatever they cannot devour, they defile.During the Age of the Ancients, as mankind learned to farm and store food under the caring gaze of Demira, Beelzebub’s followers found new ways to corrupt. They tainted the harvests, spreading disease and decay. They poisoned wells, conjured swarms of locusts, and spread famine across the land, reveling in the suffering it caused and drawing power from the rot they created.<img src="//images.ctfassets.net/96ostmeapxb7/5eWi0v0PcWtiQ4mLSTTZAS/6848a81eb163116c8d0f7130b804458c/Sarcoph.jpg?fm=webp&w=1024" width="1920" height="1080" alt="Sarcoph" />Their deep lairs reek of decay, filled with paraphernalia of their grotesque rituals. In some places, like the Contageum, they breed monstrous boars, training them for war and slaughter. Into others, they bring captured innocents and broken cultists, imprisoning them in stone sarcophagi or oubliettes and force-feeding them to unnatural limits. Once their bodies are swollen beyond recognition, they are sacrificed—consumed in monstrous feasts. Their flayed skin is tanned into leather, a gruesome tribute to their insatiable hunger.Some of their lairs can only be described as maggot hives, where the cultists string their victims up alive and infect them with thousands of their lords’ favorite creatures. And yet other locations such as the place known as The Reflection of Holastri seem more eerily serene and focused on sharpening the minds of cultists who have survived the weight of the cravings suffused in them by their diabolical masters.<img src="//images.ctfassets.net/96ostmeapxb7/3OwKboI8T95cuKHOH1dut0/58d405ba64d418bb81adc0eb7962ae30/CocoonOr..._B.jpg?fm=webp&w=1024" width="1920" height="1080" alt="CocoonOr... B" />Throughout, their halls are adorned with vile frescoes depicting their atrocities, ancient dwellings long since crumbled into decadence, for when Demira gifted her spirit to mankind, she stripped the earthly power from Beelzebub’s grasp, casting his followers into darkness forevermore. Trapped in their own corruption, they have never advanced, only lingering in the decayed ruins of what they once had.But it was then that Demira gathered and raised her spirit, drew in all her power of divinity, and with her life&#39;s spark burning with the intensity of the sun, if only for a fleeting moment, she cursed the three and their followers to eternal suffering; Starvation for the gluttonous, perpetual dissatisfaction for the greedy and uncontrolled relentless anger for the wrathful. And when she had named the three princes, she fell, cold and seemingly lifeless, never to rise again.— The Gyronomicon, Giraud´s expository on the Redeemers, pg.22<h2>A World Beyond Redemption</h2>&quot;There are evils that tempt, evils that whisper, and evils that deceive. But Gluttony does not seduce—it consumes. It is a fire that cannot be sated, a wound that never heals. To let it fester is to watch the world be devoured, piece by piece.&quot;
 — Archpriest Theodoric of Anatolia, Sermons Against the Abyss<img src="//images.ctfassets.net/96ostmeapxb7/6O4QzIjAQ7NJ0SAONxENB7/614b51f0a2617bea50a694c45fa69114/ZebiansIndoor.jpg?fm=webp&w=1024" width="1920" height="1080" alt="ZebiansIndoor" />The Cult of Zeb exists only outside the Pax Dei, in lands where Gluttony reigns unchecked and where the eye of the Divine cannot reach. They are hunger-given form, an unstoppable force of consumption that devours everything on its path.The faithful must remain ever vigilant, for their corruption spreads unseen, lurking wherever hunger and excess take hold.As long as there are those who crave without restraint, the Cult of Zeb will endure.&quot;A man’s soul is not lost in a single bite, nor in the first indulgence. It is in the second, the third, the hundredth until one no longer remembers what it means to be sated. Beware the path of Zeb, for it is lined with feasts, yet leads only to famine everlasting.&quot;
 — St. Gregorius, On the Fate of the Damned

The Cult of Zeb: A Study of Gluttony and Corruption

From the Compendium of The Cacodemonic, penned in the early years of the Age of the Papacy by Brother Aldric of Libornes.The Cult of Zeb has persisted...

ZebHeader

In Pax Dei, the world is home to many rare and twisted beings. Gatekeeper Montel is one such aberration.Once a man of flesh and kin, he cast off his sanctity and embraced gluttony, offering his soul to Beelzebub, a Prince of Hell and the Manifestation of Hunger.
Now, Montel stands sentinel in The Rivulet, a Cultist lair perilously close to the surface of Creation and a threshold to deeper Hells.He guards the Sigil of Gotifan, a unique relic used in Cultist summoning rituals, and essential for crafting artifacts touched by Archduke Gotifan himself.Summary:<ul><li>NPC: Gatekeeper Montel</li><li>Location: The Rivulet, Ancien</li><li>Unique drop: The Sigil of Gotifan</li><li>Ingredient for: Gatekeeper Montel’s Gloves</li></ul>Pax vobiscum,
The Mainframe Team.<div class="aspect-video"><iframe width="100%" height="100%" type="text/html" id="youtube-DDst1Mgd4Fc" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/DDst1Mgd4Fc?iv_load_policy=3&amp;showinfo=0&amp;rel=0&amp;cc_load_policy=1&amp;cc_lang_pref=en&amp;autoplay=0&amp;enablejsapi=1&amp;origin=https%3A%2F%2Fplaypaxdei.com"></iframe></div>

Echoes from Pax Dei, a Zebian Horror Audio Tale

In Pax Dei, the world is home to many rare and twisted beings. Gatekeeper Montel is one such aberration.Once a man of flesh and kin, he cast off his sanctity...

Echoes from Pax Dei - A Zebian Horror Tale

The Gyronomicon
Giraud´s expository on the Redeemers pg.20And before long, the Divine appeared to Demira and bid her return to his side, as humanity had failed and the days of this last creation seemed numbered. But Demira stood tall and steadfast and refused the almighty. And out of love for all she had seen and gotten close to on earth, for all the hopes and dreams she had gotten to know and for how she had come to admire the resilience and humble splendor of the human spirit, she begged the Divine to allow her a last attempt to save them.
And the Divine saw that she was unmovable.~~~At the end of the Age of the Ancients, the Stelae were built by the Fay, instructed and guided by Demira herself, in order to protect and benefit this Divine´s tenth creation. The Fay, building on their ancient wisdom and having seen creations come and go throughout the aeons, knew that sooner rather than later, this creation would need all the help they could give to withstand the corrupting agents of Hell.Demira, who had not only rediscovered the Fay, some of whom were the original incarnations of the Divine’s image from a much earlier creation, had come to understand their plight and chosen mission and she, therefore, decided to aid them in this endeavour. And perhaps she saw in this some glimpse of hope for them and all those they protect to gain redemption in the eye of the Almighty eventually.Fay magic manipulates the elements of creation using life force itself and so the stones were aligned to bolster and protect all living things. And even after Demira had made the ultimate sacrifice, banishing the three Lords of the Nether and the Fay had retreated with her seemingly lifeless body deep into their hidden realm, her spirit still nurtured and maintained the Stelae’s influence throughout the Elysian Age.And a millennium passed.<img src="//images.ctfassets.net/96ostmeapxb7/6AnyJGsWhqBLa2SXdhdUkt/06b21ce685898ec804b3fcb59217d5cc/20231030144720_1.jpg?fm=webp&w=1024" width="3840" height="2160" alt="Ancient times" />It was in the last year of the Elysian Age, at the peak of the great Demon Incursion and the beginning of the First Crusade, that Armozel, the fifth redeemer, through his ingenuity and wild desperation, harnessed the mysterious powers of the Stelae. He reshaped them and imbued them with a spark of eternal life drawn from Phaionios’ angelic divinity, allowing their fallen paladins to rise again and return to the fight against the Legions of Hell, that at this point seemed would overwhelm and swallow the world.But at the end of the demon wars, when victory was had, and Phaionios had triumphantly returned to the side of the Lord, the Stelae gradually lost their powers. And so it was that when Armozel, in his vainglory, gathered his host of paladins once more for the final push to hunt The Deceiver into the depths of Mount Medula, they soon became overwhelmed by the unending swarms of the minions of Hell that awaited, the fallen would not return. And before long, all was lost.Since then, throughout the ages, the Stelae have laid dormant, lost to the memories of mankind and their former powers forgotten. But recently, something has begun to stir within. The Ancient Stelae however faintly, are once again emanating nurturing strands enforcing the fabric of life and bringing the people of Demira’s Second Arch back to life whenever they falter. What it is that has brought the Stela back to life is still draped in mystery, but bright and hopeful voices whisper that this, among other current, wondrous occurrences around the world, may be a sign that heralds the long prophesied Age of Renewal.~Sages Annals<img src="//images.ctfassets.net/96ostmeapxb7/5PcyTui7tKjMLpe6MYXCln/f45ef53a3a665ef6438f0c9b091eaaf1/IG_Ancient_Stela.jpg?fm=webp&w=1024" width="1920" height="1080" alt="IG Ancient Stela" />

Redeemers, Part 2: The Ancient Stelae

The Gyronomicon
Giraud´s expository on the Redeemers pg.20And before long, the Divine appeared to Demira and bid her return to his side, as humanity had...

Header Ancient Stela

Yule arrives at winter solstice, the longest night of the year. On this night, the Sun reaches its lowest point, pausing briefly before beginning its slow return and reverses the rise of Winter. For our ancestors, this was a moment of hope and renewal—a promise of warmth and light to come.And as the Holly King is laid to rest and the Oak King is reborn, nature wakes from its slumber, heralding brighter days ahead. Families and friends gather by the fire, exchange small gifts, and weave evergreen branches throughout their homes, as a symbol of life´s resilience and strength during this Heart of Winter.As the longest night deepens, we too come together. How will you celebrate this night of renewal?<div class="aspect-video"><iframe width="100%" height="100%" type="text/html" id="youtube-s3p73m5mR1o" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/s3p73m5mR1o?iv_load_policy=3&amp;showinfo=0&amp;rel=0&amp;cc_load_policy=1&amp;cc_lang_pref=en&amp;autoplay=0&amp;enablejsapi=1&amp;origin=https%3A%2F%2Fplaypaxdei.com"></iframe></div>

Yule: Ancient Winter Traditions in Pax Dei

Yule arrives at winter solstice, the longest night of the year. On this night, the Sun reaches its lowest point, pausing briefly before beginning its slow...

Yule

<div class="aspect-video"><iframe width="100%" height="100%" type="text/html" id="youtube-Fips8mKZjNA" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Fips8mKZjNA?iv_load_policy=3&amp;showinfo=0&amp;rel=0&amp;cc_load_policy=1&amp;cc_lang_pref=en&amp;autoplay=0&amp;enablejsapi=1&amp;origin=https%3A%2F%2Fplaypaxdei.com"></iframe></div>
Samhain, the ancient autumn festival of the Celts. It marks the end of the harvest season and the start of the darker months of the year.During this time, the veil between this world and the next grows weaker, as the eye of the Divine increasingly turns elsewhere.As darkness crept in, people would light bonfires, wear disguises and carry their most reliable good luck charms, to protect themselves from the wandering spirits.Samhain is not just a time of roaming spirits but also of community and reflection, and people would gather to honor their ancestors and prepare for winter.As the veil thins this Samhain, don’t let the lost souls lure you into the woods. Stay close to your clan, and honor the ancient ways.How will you prepare for the long night ahead?

Samhain - A (short) Pax Dei Audio Story 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fips8mKZjNA
Samhain, the ancient autumn festival of the Celts. It marks the end of the harvest season and the start of...

Capture d’écran 2024-10-30 134150

For an eternity, there was only spirit.
Vast, umbral, timeless, and without form.
The spirit stirred with purpose unknown,
As in sleep, for an eternity more.<div class="aspect-video"><iframe width="100%" height="100%" type="text/html" id="youtube-cPqmN0w6WeI" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/cPqmN0w6WeI?iv_load_policy=3&amp;showinfo=0&amp;rel=0&amp;cc_load_policy=1&amp;cc_lang_pref=en&amp;autoplay=0&amp;enablejsapi=1&amp;origin=https%3A%2F%2Fplaypaxdei.com"></iframe></div>Then, as though from slumber,
A thought separated from the body of darkness,
And there was light. Light, full of hearing and words
And thus, from the Spirit, the Divine emergedThe light split and shaped the spirit
Shattering the darkness of the void,
And the spirit trembled with all there was
As the Divine drew its first breath.And from this breath, the Air was born.
A mighty wind that swept through the abyss
Giving it direction and time.
It was the breath of life.The Air was playful, spontaneous, but dry and unyielding.
So, in his second breath,
The Divine created the Water.
This was the breath of joy.The Water was as playful as the Air,
Joyful and pliant, yielding and ductile.
It was a perfect match.
And the Divine united them.The Air and the Water melded together.
And with them, the Divine imagined new forms, new shapes.
Dancing fog and singing drops.
Breathing ice and dribbling wind.But they were uncontrolled,
And without adherence.
They were too playful.
The firmament lacked fidelity.So, with his third breath,
A deep, long, and heavy breath,
The Divine created the Earth,
It was the breath of balance.The Earth was solid and steady,
Silent, barren, and heavy,
An omphalic foundation,
And playground for creation.Air willed it to dance.
Water joined it in song.
And the Earth sensed the touch of Air.
And eagerly echoed the whispers of Water.The dance and the song became billowing thunder.
Shaking the ground and rocks asunder,
And the rhythms rippled the surface,
Sculpting rifts and drawing furrows.And the air gave it the breath of life,
Water brought its joyous embrace,
And the Earth was awake.
So, the Divine united them.The Air, the Water, and the Earth melded together.
And with them, the Divine imagined yet new forms and new shapes.
They created the mountains, the caves, and the waterfalls.
The rain and the snow, the storm and the avalanche.It was magnificent and impressive. 
Though rugged and imposing.
It was almost perfect.
But it was cold and ungentle.The Divine was again inspired.
And once more, drew a mighty breath.
It was a deep and fiery breath.
It was the breath of power. The Air, the Water, the Earth, and the Fire fused.
And with them, the Divine, again, imagined new forms, new shapes.
The forms of life, delicate shapes
And animals, flowers, and trees filled the creation with warmth and longing.Everything was dancing and singing, rumbling and fulminating.
And because everything was balanced, everything was perfect.
The First World was born.
And the Divine saw that, and he saw it was good.<img src="//images.ctfassets.net/96ostmeapxb7/tNBXX8761rq3f0J72BjfF/f96c10db0f50dc2d728bc73956a603de/Fire_or_Sunrise.png?fm=webp&w=1024" width="3840" height="2160" alt="Sunset" />

The Birth of the Divine and the Elements of Creation

For an eternity, there was only spirit.
Vast, umbral, timeless, and without form.
The spirit stirred with purpose unknown,
As in sleep, for an eternity...

Moonlight

“If thou beest he; But O how fall&#39;n! how chang&#39;d
From him, who in the happy Realms of Light
Cloth&#39;d with transcendent brightness didst out-shine
Myriads though bright…”<blockquote>Thus was described at the end of the first creation, as the original Paradise was Lost, this Prince of Hell, Manifest Gluttony, and Devourer of Lands, the Lord of the Flies himself, Ruler of the Nightmire and its various manifestations on this our side of the Veil.He is known by many names, none of which are decent to utter or safe to voice. Even those of our lost siblings who have fallen and seek eternity in the shade of his buzzing hordes: the wretched crew known as the Cult of Zeb, dare not articulate his true name.</blockquote><h2>Of the Cultists</h2><blockquote>Lost to their Masters’ deadly sin, they desire everything but prefer nothing over anything else. They do not care whose it is that they reap and plunder, what it is, or if it is for anyone else to claim. Excess in all things is the purpose and means to an end that can never arrive.As with all demonic cults, their members are solely in it for themselves. While there are those within this Creation who have fallen to the wicked ways of heresy; they still worship the true Lord, albeit not in the correct manner, and along with their misguided brethren, do seek the true path in communion, the Cultists do not. And in that fact lies, perhaps, their greatest weakness.</blockquote><img src="//images.ctfassets.net/96ostmeapxb7/2w2xhd9e1D2Tv6ugJ0qVn9/eeb381b37a0b25a3119492fb63b0304a/rivuletentrance_farm_01.png?fm=webp&w=1024" width="1920" height="1052" alt="rivuletentrance farm 01" /><blockquote>The Cultists have no sense or love for each other, the only thing that drives them on is the urge to satisfy their Masters’ desire through the Dukes of Zeb, the sevenfold seven demon lords who serve as his stewards across the lands and in the twisted depths.Whether the misfortunate originally are drawn to the Cult by demonic possession or they are otherwise corrupted by the spirits of the doomed, they quickly become lost beyond redemption, and no one, once given over to the Dukes of Zeb, has ever returned to tell the tale.</blockquote><h2>Of the Twisted Depths</h2><blockquote>Organized and commanded by their demonic overlords, the Cultists do not only roam the lands in their efforts to fulfill their Masters&#39; desires, they are also known to infest places within the earth itself, locations that are said to be carved into the very border of this world and the one below, places where the Veil is thin and grows more porous the deeper one delves.Here the Cultists prepare for the comings and goings of their masters and above all else, strive to prove their worth, sacrificing all they have and manage to gain, in hopes of one day being viewed as worthy to be relieved of their mortal coil and becoming dark revenants in service of the Lord of the Flies for all eternity.Little is known about the daily happenings in these places in the deep. What we do know is that they are all dedicated to spreading the corruption of the Mire, and most of them are places where the Cultists toil away day and night to fulfill their masters&#39; needs.Some, such as the one known as The Molting Chambers seem to function as insect hatcheries, where persons apprehended by the cult, as well as the cultists who are proven too weak, are closed up in tiny stone coffins and while still alive, are fed to maggots and larvae that slowly infest their bodies and mature, creating a writhing mass of insects used to spread further the Masters&#39; corruption.</blockquote><img src="//images.ctfassets.net/96ostmeapxb7/4hEonwM5y77BHg9w9f4uC3/96f469bc68683633a88d915ac64a3038/rivuletentrance_hive_01.png?fm=webp&w=1024" width="1920" height="1052" alt="rivuletentrance hive 01" /><blockquote>Other places such as The Contageum, are dedicated to the corruption of pigs, the only animal of creation the Cultists look favorably upon. And yet others, such as the one known as The Absterium seem to serve the creation of demonic relics and other implements of the dark arts adapted to human use through inscriptions, symbols, masks, and other trinkets made from the skin of corrupted animals and humans.Some of these places are, however, more directly frequented by the demons themselves, even the dukes, whenever they have gathered enough strength to cross the veil and manifest among their servants. There are some stories out of those depths telling of feast halls where mountainous maggot-ridden food buffets and rivers of wine await the whim of the Dukes. Other places seem to be more serene and serve as meditation halls where fantasies about the true Glut for More can be entertained uninterrupted.And finally, there are the places known as Zebeums. The dark temples of this Prince of Hell, where his dukes and other demons, along with the Cultists, strive to one day receive him into this world once more.</blockquote>~From the sages&#39; annals<img src="//images.ctfassets.net/96ostmeapxb7/1dQIxt2mN1YcF3QhVBTXpL/e575f3762f96423da4162ff609122f4f/rivuletentrance_kabadastia_01.png?fm=webp&w=1024" width="1920" height="1052" alt="rivuletentrance kabadastia 01" /><img src="//images.ctfassets.net/96ostmeapxb7/1IqlpLHSjQYgxGM6Ppks8d/c7e81d0949d10d14de396df96b8c2998/deepcave_hive03.png?fm=webp&w=1024" width="1920" height="1052" alt="deepcave hive03" /><img src="//images.ctfassets.net/96ostmeapxb7/7aXrbKd3cJRJtvoq2L4xsP/ccd07216671af1490f061eddd5dfc741/Magalastia.png?fm=webp&w=1024" width="3851" height="2111" alt="Magalastia" /><img src="//images.ctfassets.net/96ostmeapxb7/2RKIeuRlBBKTzy3iQ3Ieqw/2286bfec3b3450ce1afaa53d0ab47e26/rivuletentrance_mhall_05.png?fm=webp&w=1024" width="1920" height="1052" alt="rivuletentrance mhall 05" />

Adversaries Part 3 - Of the Cult of Zeb.

“If thou beest he; But O how fall&#39;n! how chang&#39;d
From him, who in the happy Realms of Light
Cloth&#39;d with transcendent brightness didst out-shine
Myriads...

Adversaries_Part_3_Thumbnail

During the night of Samhain, may the Divine keep you safe From demon and pooka and black-hearted stranger, <img src="//images.ctfassets.net/96ostmeapxb7/4UDZDeRJM6ySDalMgbaT8Z/5d624fd73bba3d09ec5af59ee3513cd6/Samhain_banquet_B.jpg?fm=webp&w=1024" width="3840" height="2160" alt="Samhain banquet B" /><img src="//images.ctfassets.net/96ostmeapxb7/5Oeyuf235zKJWOpgYjhHMb/200b50116e69c6f051ffedc5bba7cf74/Samhain_banquet_A.jpg?fm=webp&w=1024" width="3840" height="2160" alt="Samhain banquet A" />From harm of the water and hurt of the fire, From thorns of the bramble, from all other danger, From Will O&#39; The Wisp haunting the mire, <img src="//images.ctfassets.net/96ostmeapxb7/7k9NgWCpVlQsfGCs4adK1s/48c8490bfe9be8be501927ef2c18e8e1/Header_blog.jpg?fm=webp&w=1024" width="3840" height="2160" alt="Header blog" /><img src="//images.ctfassets.net/96ostmeapxb7/586SG4mkL0ixF3MZf65t4U/17a06b0b40cd80bc7b0c753ee16f2968/WillO_B.jpg?fm=webp&w=1024" width="3840" height="2160" alt="WillO B" /><img src="//images.ctfassets.net/96ostmeapxb7/3jZVpS3szdRpNMTSaqMiqk/866ba2bc10c04fd8e8af2cb10c7c0557/WillO_C.jpg?fm=webp&w=1024" width="3840" height="2160" alt="WillO C" /><img src="//images.ctfassets.net/96ostmeapxb7/2KsZf74RPEyLPRAkaGPB92/114449ba1c1c84d21cb665a61162a7aa/WillO_D.jpg?fm=webp&w=1024" width="3840" height="2160" alt="WillO D" /><img src="//images.ctfassets.net/96ostmeapxb7/1OwSHhgSoVoAD7stcdsoYL/96542d0b10920c8f633d74ba0d7845c5/WillO_E.jpg?fm=webp&w=1024" width="3840" height="2160" alt="WillO E" />From stumbles and tumbles and tricksters to vex you, May the Divine&#39;s mercy this night protect you. <img src="//images.ctfassets.net/96ostmeapxb7/3Nq4ldJNyZouHeCxPMdeJn/978f5661b6bc68861558ef573d611075/LostSoulsA.jpg?fm=webp&w=1024" width="3840" height="2160" alt="LostSoulsA" /><img src="//images.ctfassets.net/96ostmeapxb7/1q4grHNy9ZgwftYg8ycRpQ/0abc40deca32ba69cec07d9edc5f3979/LostSoulsB.jpg?fm=webp&w=1024" width="3840" height="2160" alt="LostSoulsB" /><img src="//images.ctfassets.net/96ostmeapxb7/1qCfiyqPyPTQWq4mAixUyR/ebb4d8f4ccfed157f4c8c0224aa8856a/LostSoulsC.jpg?fm=webp&w=1024" width="3840" height="2160" alt="LostSoulsC" />

A Samhain in Pax&nbsp;Dei

During the night of Samhain, may the Divine keep you safe From demon and pooka and black-hearted stranger, From harm of the water and hurt of the fire,...

Diegesis