Thursday, March 17, 2011

Petty God: St. Ainless of Inocks, Patron Saint of Metal Accoutrements

[Thine Spawn submits another Petty God for your pleasure. But first an Editorial:]

I'm not a fan of St. Patrick as a historical figure, and I'm not much of a fan of St. Patrick's Day in the US as it's practiced. To me it's like Columbus Day for Native Americans. I think the peoples of Ireland could have done just as well without the Christianity, thank you very much (or better said, they could hardly have done worse). But aside from my ideological issues, I ask: Why does anyone need a calendrical excuse to get totally shit-faced drunk? Why do you wait for the sanctioned day to lose your shit completely? How free are you if you get drunk when local Eyewitness News tells you to? And do you think that's what happens in Ireland on St. Patrick's Day?
To account for this smallish rant I provide the following as Joesky-recompense to my dear readers:

 St. Ainless of Inocks, Patron Saint of Metal Accoutrements 

From his first day at the Jadist seminary in Brothback, the acolyte cleric Ainless was recognized as a savant of scriptures and an exemplary holy warrior. Everyone from hierophants to neophytes praised his precocious divine abilities. It was often joked that he could turn the undead faster than a Hedarish prostitute could turn a trick, but unlike her clients, Ainless’s would never be repeat customers! Rollicking laughter inevitably followed every telling of that hoary old chestnut, to be sure.

Having excelled in weapon- and book-learning, upon ordination Ainless was entrusted with the mighty Mace of Jado’s Convincing Wrath, a +3 mace of disruption that when used with subdual damage would convert any sentient vanquished opponent to the Way of Jado regardless of race or alignment. No candidate had proven worthy of bearing it for several centuries, and Ainless’s ascendance seemed to harbinge a renaissance for the Jadist sect. Righteously armed with Jado’s mace and a full suit of plate mail, he set forth for a dungeon whose name is now lost in the annals of infamy.

After a few encounters with zombies and giant rats that were a scanty match for Ainless, he happened upon a nest of 3 rust monsters, a creature unknown to the Jadists who had been relative home-bodies for quite some time. Viewing the trio as simply another opportunity to demonstrate the divine power of Jado to an unbelieving world, Ainless barreled into melee, beating away mercilessly. Within moments, Ainless was mortified to discover that with each strike, the mace seemed to weaken, and before he knew it he was standing in his underwear swinging a bereft mace-handle in vain at the rust monsters. Jado’s exalted mace was no more, and the half-naked Ainless fled the dungeon in disgrace. Some say he was so thoroughly beaten that even his iron rations rusted.

Upon his return to the Jadist seminary he was defrocked and thoroughly rebuked for having lost Jado’s mace, and for debasing the entire order by running across the countryside in his skivvies like a run-of-the-mill village idiot. At that time he came to be called “Brainless”, “Aimless”, or “Anus”. Thusly castigated he fled to the forests of Inocks, where despairing of a clerical career, he rejected all metal accoutrements and devoted himself to Druidic practice. Vengeful lust still drove him though, and he spent his days crafting the most lethal blackthorn shillelaghs ever known. With these in hand, he journeyed far and wide offering to exterminate rust monsters in any dungeon, anywhere, controlled by anyone, taking only donations for his services (along a suggested sliding scale). What he managed to do to rust monsters without the aid of metal weapons has run the descriptive gamut from “primitively inventive” to “coarsely perverse”.

He started on the road to sainthood when a sad little band of adventurers sought him out and begged for their array of +1 weapons to be restored after unfortunate rust monster encounters. Ainless became so vexed at rust monsters that he grabbed the weapons and struck back at the oxidizers in spirit, and drew back the usurped magical properties from their carcasses. This miracle built Ainless’s renown and attracted enough followers that he built a stronghold in Inocks, where even after his death he is revered as the saint of metal accoutrements, the restorer of all metal things that have been degraded in the pursuit of a divine (or mundane) quest.

For every two rust monster carcasses PCs bring the Shrine of St. Ainless, the priests of Inocks will restore +1 to magic weapons or armor ruined by rust monster attacks.


  1. I love your tag - nonsense. Which is both true and all the better for being so. A great petty God or petty faith! As for St Patrick - I doubt he ever saw himself as the patron saint of Guiness. That came after his death from other, less saintly, men.

  2. I think you're right JP, but I don;t think I'm ever going to really dig St. Patrick. St. Brendan the Navigator is really the Irish monk that kicked ass in my book.

    The real deal with St. Ainless is I came up with it after misreading "stainless" on a paring knife as "St. James" with part of it rubbed out.

  3. Nice!

    Hey, isn't St. Brendan the Irish sailor who reached Iceland, Greenland, and even the New England coast waaay before Columbus did?

  4. Yeah, he probably reached Labrador or Newfoundland (not as far south as New England per se), and he did it it a leather boat, fighting sea monsters and other crazy stuff ... a boat with AC8! Pretty bad-ass.