Lempo – the Finnic god of Fertility, Fire & Fighting

I could have written a lengthy tirade on comparative mythology, folklore, magic etc. (I do have an academic degree therein, you know) but instead opted for this (somewhat) brief posting. For further information on the subject, don’t PM me, unless you happen to be a RPG publisher or something resembling it 😉

Lempo aka Lemminkäinen (various renderings of the name into English could include “the fiery/lusty/loving one”) can be regarded as the Finnic fertility/fire/war god. Never mind what the Kalevala tells you about him…reducing the character to the status of a “mere” hero. I have based my take on the decades and centuries of scholarship on Finnic folklore, as befits an obsessive Judge and shut-in nerd of questionable sanity.

Shadows in the Sanctum!

“Us dwarves, we’re good with the caves. I mean, we live underground, can see in the dark, what’s there to be afraid of?

But we still carry a lantern with us, everywhere we go.

Why, you ask?

Well, would you like a shadow following you home?”

Zuppie’s DCC RPG Homebrew Fumble Tables

“Prithee, Sir Warrior, thou wouldst call thyself full-bodied & able; yet thou didst just shew a Vulgar Display Of Blunder, which hath put our party entire in sad & saucy peril!”

“Nay, thou fond Wizard, I have merely become Discombobulated for the nonce!”

Pelagia, Goddess of the Sea

“Ye, the sea looks like a bride today doesn’t she?

Cold, unforgiving and smells like fish! HARHARHAA!”

Justicia, Goddess of Justice and Mercy

“Did’ja hear? Ol’ Hannah, from Squalid’s Row, y’know ‘er, she went to the church of the two-faced law god, whas’er name… Juhsticia! Yea, thassit. Justicia.

She went right up there, stood bare-bucking-nekkid in fronta the big scales at the altar, and demanded justice for alla the raglings and droogs living in Squalid’s hellholes.

Now, Mr. Squalid’s a real slumlord, don’t get me wrong. But Hannah ain’t no saint. She done opened ‘er legs for more delvers than I care ta think. Wouldn’t dally with no law-god lady if I was ‘er. Dunno what pushed ‘er that far, t’be’onest.

But lo-and-fucking-behold, the goddess answered! Mr. Squalid was turned into a rat, snap-bang, right then and there!

“YOU’LL LIVE IN THE FILTH FOR AN ETERNITY!”, a voice outta nowhere roared at ‘im. Squalid shat ‘imself, an’ ran down a gutter at full pelt! HA! No one’s seen ‘im since!

Ol’ Hannah wasn’t served much better, mind you. I ‘ear she’s still shittin’ through ‘er mouth, on account’a ‘er legs bein’ stitched together inta one limb. Ta keep ‘er off the streets, y’know.”

Random Encounters, in a Weird World

“Hitting the road, with your wagons and followers in tow, you wonder what the winding way has stored for you this time?

Wolves? Trolls? Something altogether more sinister? There’s no way to know. You can only push forward.

And that is precisely why you push through this bleak landscape. To surprise yourself.

There was nothing new to find under the cold soil of your father’s fields, so you took the risk to become a delver. A reaver. A knower of things, a finder of secrets.

The road is your home, the inns on the way are the closest you want for  a restful place.

You can never go back home again. But what is home anyway?”

Amun Tor, God of Mysteries and Riddles

“Right, so me and the crew were digging around in one of the old graveyards on the moors last winter. Just a bit of graverobbing, to warm our bones, y’know. Was me, Three-Finger Bob, Jenny O’Block and this clerical bloke we picked up at the tavern in Soulgrave, with an eye tattooed on ‘is forehead.

We come up on this crypt, silent like. Check out for traps, all the usual shit, nothing.

Creep deeper, and come to a heavy stone door. I nearly drop me ballast right there when this magic mouth appears, and comes out with some gibberish riddle.

Old Three-Fingers tries to blag a bullshit answer to the spectre and gets fried to a crisp. Apparently the wage for stupidity is witchfire.

So this cleric walks up, and tells us he can answer the riddle, if we help him. Asks us for a secret in trade, eye-for-an-eye, y’know. Now, I try to keep out of trouble with gods, the less they know of me the better, so I keep shtum. But Jenny, y’know how she is, dallying with them demons and everything, she’s got a right plonker for the god of secrets to trade for. Tells the cleric something that turns his face all white.

The cleric prays for a bit, comes out of his trance, and opens the door with the right answer, quick as you like.

Should’ve asked ‘is god what was on the other side, rather than the answer though. The skeletons cut ‘im to bits, before me and Jenny could do a thing. We ran off, of course. No point in getting everyone killed. Live to steal another purse, ‘s what I always say.”