Vetch
God of Crime
Lesser God

Epithets: Crimelord, Master of the Silver Flail, Lord of Thieves  
Alignment: Chaotic evil
Symbols: Flail, silver rat
Colors: Gray and black
Precious metal: Gold
Primary followers: Thieves, fences, con men, and other criminals
Special mark: Gray veils worn by all clerics and Knights

     The true form of Vetch is that of a slightly built yet handsome human male of some twenty years. Vetch’s emerald green eyes are bright with mischief; his high pitched yet melodic voice is soothing and very persuasive. The god dresses in a manner keeping with his nature: a suit of fine leather armor, a tunic and leggings of deep grays, and a hooded cloak and gloves of the deepest black. The overall effect is that of a charming rogue—but first impressions can be deceiving.

     To the discerning eye and spirit, the Crimelord is an unsavory and repellent deity. Though his voice is smooth, his words are dishonest, sly, and manipulative. Behind the glitter of his emerald eyes lies a stony contempt for his victims and an icy fear of those who have the will to oppose him. And not even Vetch can explain away his severed left hand, taken in the Age of Mists by Rifkis the Peacekeeper, the righteous enforcer of the House of Light.

     Grafted to the stump of the Crimelord’s arm is a fist-sized mithril ball, studded with a bewildering variety of thieves’ picks and other tools. When desired, the ball transforms into a flail head of deadly accuracy and vicious crushing power. The handle of the flail is the arm of the god himself, and the chain can expand to a length of up to twenty yards.

     Avatars: The variety of Vetch’s worldly manifestations is well known to Minarran clergy of every faith. The god may appear as human, demi-human, or humanoid, of either sex and of any age. The illusion of a gloved hand conceals the mithril appendage unless the god so wills. Less frequently, the god assumes the form of a street rat, raven, or alley cat. The only form seemingly beyond Vetch is that of the isak, perhaps because the peculiar psychological makeup of that race makes them virtually invulnerable to the Crimelord’s influence. The avatar is often accompanied by his Servitor, a silver-furred rat named Koller, whose size can vary from the rodent norm to that of a large mastiff.

     Mortal servants: The consecrated followers of Vetch are an easy match for the ruthlessness and double-dealing natures of their congregations. Senior clerics and Knights are never far from the centers of power of most of Minarra’s thieves’ guilds, if they don’t already dominate them overtly or covertly, that is. Vetch doesn’t play favorites when it comes to his servants; humans, demi-humans, and humanoids are all the same to him.

     In the spirit of the most shameless of toadies, all members of the Order dress in the same fashion as their divine master. The holy symbols of Adepts and junior Knights are of silver, those of Graces and Lord Knights are of gold, and those of the Cruelties are of diamond-encrusted platinum or mithril. In the same spirit, most members of the Order have the flail as an initial weapon of proficiency.

     The criteria for advancement differ for clerics and Knights. The former rise through cleverness, imagination, and daring; those who take the biggest risks and succeed are those who get ahead in the Order. The Knights, on the other hand, are a violent and physical lot. Indeed, they are some of the finest enforcers and thugs you’ll find anywhere, and they pride themselves on doing whatever is necessary to get the job done. And though they may be "professional", their methods can hardly be described as dainty…

     Worship is held in specially sanctified catacombs, safe houses, and guildhalls in urban areas, or in hidden caves or abandoned buildings in the countryside. Tithes to the Order are triple the norm, but much of this money ends up, sooner or later, in the hands of the guilds to meet expenses and train new talent.

     Philosophy/Tenets of Faith: The "philosophy" of Vetch, such as it is, can readily be explained in terms of a meat animal and the butchers that carve its carcass. The former is the whole of mortal society and culture, the latter the apprentices of the Crimelord.

     Consider: the labors of the mind—art and literature—they are the brain of the beast, valuable if hard to fathom at times. The labors of those who create—the smithies, the jewelers, the artisans of every stamp—they are the abundant meat of the carcass, rich and satisfying to the palette. The shopkeeper and the tradesman are the bones of the beast; one has only to crack the brittle shell to suck the marrow within. The watchman and the magistrate? They are the horns and hooves that gore and trample the careless, but can never harm the clever and the swift. And coin…coin is the life’s blood, so easy to siphon if one knows where to put the knife.