You are the gods of the peoples of this world. You are imbued with the power to bless mighty heroes, answer the prayers of your followers and do titanic battle with other gods in the mortal realm. However, you are not omnipotent, you know all too well your strength and even perception is tied to the belief of your followers, and that even the most fervent believers can only empower you so far; gods may claim to raise and set the sun, but in their absence all that would happen is a fusing ball of hydrogen would crest the horizon in the morning.
Your power is mostly subtle, influencing the air currents to redirect rain, slipping tales into the dreams of a sleeper or protecting a faithful champion against the arrows of their enemies. The most direct influence you have is to manifest directly as a divine avatar in the mortal world, but this is a draining process, and for reasons you cannot fathom, only a limited number of gods may perform this feat at once.
Now your followers are on a great migration to form the first truly great city in the known world, founded from a simple village of a single faith, and consequently your presence is drawn along with them. Some claim it is a religious pilgrimage, others are fleeing flood or drought or famine and others yet seek to control and exploit the new city. The exact stories are less important than this fact: the gods of all these peoples must now work in harmony, command with an iron will or manipulate each other to rule over their new domain, win followers to their side as cultures mix and fuse.
Welcome, to the Gods’ Game.
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