Shojun's gods claim they shaped the world before its first sunrise, raising mountains from the dark sea and assigning every living thing a place in the old pact.

Their names were later stricken from histories after their rivalries brought catastrophe. Centuries of neglect warped their natures, and now the forgotten assembly returns through corrupted memory, anger, and need.

Before time had a name, the gods raised the world from a dark sea and set it beneath a roof of stars.

They bound its seasons, births, and deaths with a pact recorded on stone. As mortals forgot the old gods, the pact's inscriptions faded: its protections became curses, its blessings became hungers, and the gods themselves grew warped by neglect. Each forgotten prayer now acts like a crack through which divine influence seeps.

The gods rarely appear openly, but their influence spreads through dreams, inherited customs, and the sudden return of obsolete symbols.

Communities disagree over whether to revive their worship, suppress it, or bargain with particular gods for protection. Shrines are often built into ruins, and a village that restores one may gain a harvest while losing the ability to sleep without hearing the old prayers.

The dead descend through the Nine Quiet Terraces, where their memories are weighed against the harm they caused and the kindness they withheld.

Qhapaq keeps the scales, but Seshali whispers into the judgment, and the condemned may be claimed by any god whose name they carried in life. Few souls find rest: the forgotten dead become dim, hungry echoes that drift back toward the world.

Qhapaq insists the gods must be remembered to preserve the world's order, while Seshali profits from the fear and madness that their return brings.

Mzimba seeks to mend mortal minds, but Xalli teaches that grief is a door best left open. Dakan hunts Grom's war-cults; meanwhile, P'achak and Vusho dispute who may command the dead. Iru tries to keep the assembly bound by its ancient pact, though Yali and Bruk each plan to break it for different reasons.

Shojun is an assembly rather than a unified church.

Its old temples were organized around local obligations: a judge served Qhapaq, a hearth-keeper Bruk, and a funeral guide P'achak. With the pantheon forgotten, surviving practices have splintered into household rites, secretive cults, and revival movements. The gods have no uncontested chief, though Qhapaq claims the right to interpret the ancient pact. Priests may honor several gods while choosing one patron, and rival congregations argue over whether the gods should be remembered at all.

The cost of forgetting, the danger of inherited power, and the corruption that grows when fear fills the space left by vanished faith.

Wrathful, haunted, and morally unsettled.

Divine attention is rarely gentle: even sincere worship may invite obsession, grief, hunger, or violence, while communities struggle to decide whether the old gods are protectors, captors, or both.

The assembly spans benevolent, neutral, and malign powers, but its old laws have grown cruel.

Its two Greater Gods are Qhapaq and Seshali; the remaining nine are Lesser Gods, Demigods, or Outsiders.