Vulcan

A colossus at the intersection of two formidable lineages—half-dwarf, half-fire giant, his very blood a molten alloy of strength and ardor. At twelve feet, his stature is as monumental as the reputation that precedes him, a god who wields the essence of fire as easily as a smith turns iron upon the anvil. Though many whisper his name in the same breath as power incarnate, Vulcan’s true domain is the primal, unbridled realm of flame.

A deity of unmatched might, Vulcan is often deemed the sovereign of the Rotanian pantheon, a being whose force is as inextinguishable as the fiery core of the world. His long-standing rivalry with Kari, the God of Water, is as legendary as the elements they command—fire and water, power and honor, Vulcan and Kari, two sides of a coin eternally spinning in conflict. Yet for all the antagonism, Vulcan remains aloof, his gaze turned inwards, his thoughts consumed by the forge of his own ambition.

In a tale of forsaken love, Vulcan's heart once knew the warmth of affection for Tiana. But as the flames of his pursuit for greater might grew, so did the distance between them, until the embers of their bond grew cold and were scattered to the winds. A master among masters, Vulcan's hands once shaped wonders at the anvil, serving as the celestial blacksmith whose creations were worthy of the gods themselves.

In his ceaseless quest for power, Vulcan's gaze fell upon a dwarven city, a jewel hewn from the subterranean depths, its people as sturdy and enduring as the stone from which their homes were carved. This city was a bastion of dwarven craftsmanship and ingenuity, a place where the clang of hammer on anvil was a constant hymn. But to Vulcan, it represented more than a mere city; it was a reservoir of souls, each a spark to stoke the flames of his might. With the calculated precision of a master craftsman, Vulcan set his plan into motion. Through an intricate array of spells and the manipulation of the earth's molten heart, he caused the very ground beneath the city to tremble and fracture. The city's foundations buckled, and with a roar as deafening as any forge's bellow, it sank into the abyss, swallowed by a chasm as dark and insatiable as Vulcan's own ambition. As the city fell, Vulcan channeled the escaping souls, each a wisp of spiritual energy, harvesting them to fuel a divine device. The loss of the city was a calamity that echoed through the dwarven halls of Idoham as they were powerless to help, a wound that would never fully heal. And though Vulcan's power swelled, the atrocity he committed left a stain upon his legacy, a stark reminder that the god of fire's hunger for supremacy could burn away the foundations of honor and history in the pursuit of greater strength. This act, a grim parable of greed, would be whispered about in hushed tones, a warning to those who would dare to seek power at any cost. And for Vulcan, it was but another step on his path, each stride leaving behind the ashes of what once was, in exchange for the promise of what might yet be.

It is said that Vulcan, in a feat that defies the limits of mortal imagination, once captured a tarrasque, the most fearsome of beasts. In the guise of a giant, he wrought upon the world an offspring born of fire and fury, a progeny that vanished as mysteriously as it appeared, leaving behind only the echo of its legend. The wrath of the tarrasque mother was a tempest of nature’s raw vengeance, her assault upon Vulcan a cataclysmic event that shaped the very land. The site of their colossal struggle, where the tarrasque's body fell, transformed over the eons into the city known as Oniotol—a stone testament to Vulcan's indomitable power and the ferocity of a mother's fury.

Vulcan is the duality of creation and destruction, the artisan’s craft and the warrior’s conquest, a god whose heart beats with the rhythm of the forge and whose soul is the embodiment of an eternal flame.