Even gods can be cowards, and amongst them, the name Pathfinder came ever on top. Dead like his daughter Nerva, he lived–or rather refused to let go of life by trapping himself in between the day and night. Through memories and dreams, he moved, spewing doubts in the hearts of the faithful. His daughter will never be a playground for kids trying to play god, or at least that's what he thought and hoped to achieve through his disruptive acts.
Alone in his quest to defend his daughter's dignity, he had moved along from being a god of night and day to a spectre of what he once was. But as that hand reached for him from beyond time and dimension, he latched onto it and garnered the help of otherworlders to strike at the shackles with which Athenia and Elenaria had hold of his daughter.
'You have my blessings and my gift. Do not disappoint me.' He thought to himself in the darkness of the unbeing. And then…he opened that damned portal, leading an army in the heart of Elenaria's city.
