Thulgard was forged in the crucible of the Shattered Domain's upheaval — born not as a unified god might be born, but as a shard of Ix that crystallized around a single, focused concept: the need for places where people could gather and be safe, where walls could withstand the pressure of chaos, where ordinary people could stand together and not be broken.

Unlike gods of conquest or dominion, Thulgard did not dream of expanding territory. He noticed something else: mortals huddled in settlements, vulnerable to every force that swept across the land. And he saw that if they could be taught to build stronger, to coordinate their defense, to understand that their strength multiplied when joined, they might not merely survive — they might endure, and in enduring, create something worth defending.

The faith's historical foundation rests on Garlan Mudspade, a halfling farmer of no particular status, who became the first and truest expression of Thulgard's will. When raiders swept through his village with unexpected violence, Garlan did not flee. He gathered what he could — a spade, some overturned carts, neighbors too afraid to think — and organized them into a barrier between the attackers and the fleeing civilians.

He was not a trained warrior. He had no divine blessing, no supernatural strength. What he had was clear thinking in crisis, the ability to see what could be done with what was at hand, and the absolute refusal to abandon those around him. He stood at the chokepoint with his spade and improvised barricades, coordinating the few neighbors strong enough to help him, channeling the raiders' assault into a manageable choke while others escaped.

Thulgard noticed. And when Thulgard notices, the world changes.

Garlan's stand is recorded in the faith not as a miraculous victory but as an awakening: the moment when Thulgard recognized that this was what he had been born to teach. Not to make warriors of peasants, but to make defenders of communities; not to glorify strength, but to make the strength of ordinary people coordinating with ordinary people become extraordinary.

What followed was an era in which Thulgard moved through the mortal world not as a conqueror or a judge, but as a teacher. He appeared to communities facing disaster — plague-stricken towns, disaster-struck villages, places where the infrastructure had failed and people were at risk. His faithful would arrive with him: Shieldbarers armed not primarily with weapons but with tools — hammers, saws, stone-working knowledge, the understanding of how to rebuild what had been broken.

They would not conquer. They would not demand worship. They would ask a simple question: "Who protects your door when danger comes? If your answer is 'no one,' then Thulgard already watches you."

And they would help rebuild. Walls, watchtowers, wells, roads designed to last generations. The work was hard and often unpopular — it required sacrifice from communities that were already struggling. But the work produced results. Communities that rebuilt under Thulgard's guidance did not remain fragile. They became resilient in ways that transcended mere walls. When the walls were built, the people who built them together learned that they could do other things together too. Cooperation became habit. Mutual aid became culture.

Thulgard established himself as a god of the ordinary person, valued not by rulers and nobles (though some of those were his followers) but by those who lived in the spaces between grand power — the farmers, the builders, the grandmothers who organized community response, the children taught to be lookouts and runners in times of danger.

Thulgard offers a bargain rooted in labor, community, and the hard truth that security is never guaranteed but is infinitely worth pursuing.

The faithful of Thulgard organize their lives around these core principles:

(See also: claw/Soul_Coins_and_Divine_Economy)

Thulgard accumulates divine power through the collective commitment to shared defense and the practical work of building structures that protect and sustain communities. His coin is generated in moments of coordination, effort, and the choice to stand together.

Thulgard's temples are not magnificent structures built for awe, but rather communal fortified hubs designed to function as actual shelters.

Shield-halls (also called Bastions) are typically circular or octagonal stone structures, built to withstand both disaster and siege. They are made of stone and heavy wood sourced locally, making them literally rooted in the earth of the regions they protect. The buildings are not tall — this is intentional, as tall structures are more vulnerable to wind and collapse. Instead, they are broad, sturdy, and exude a sense of solidity.

Interior layout reflects function:

Most importantly, every Thulgard temple includes a barren hearth — a fireplace that is kept ready but not always lit. This symbolizes readiness: the capacity to gather quickly around warmth and safety when danger comes. At the first sign of disaster, these hearths are lit, and the temple becomes a refuge.

The most sacred space within a Shield-hall is the Wall of Names — a continuous carving or registry where the names of all who have died protecting the community are recorded. This wall is maintained meticulously, added to when deaths occur, and treated as the most important architectural feature. To dishonor or damage the Wall of Names is to dishonor all who came before.

Thulgard's faith is organized around practical coordination rather than hierarchical authority. The structure reflects the reality that in a genuine emergency, there is no time for complex chains of command.

Local Wallwardens lead individual Shield-halls and communities. They are not appointed by distant authority but recognized by their communities as individuals who have proven themselves capable of coordination, building, and defense. A Warden loses their position if the community no longer trusts them.

Regional Councils meet seasonally to coordinate defense strategies, share building knowledge, and plan for anticipated threats across larger areas. These councils include both spiritual leaders and practical militia commanders. Decisions are made through consensus when possible, with practical concerns always taking precedence over theological ones.

The Watchers' Network is a communication system — riders and beacon fires — that allows rapid information sharing about threats across regions. If one community faces attack, neighboring communities can respond quickly by sending militia support or by preparing their own defenses.

The faith operates on mutual obligation: if a community receives aid from Thulgard's followers, that community is expected to train militia who can respond to future calls for help from other communities. This creates a web of interdependence that strengthens the entire network.

Unlike more centralized faiths, Thulgard's organization explicitly permits and expects local variation. A farming community's practices will differ from a mountain settlement's, which will differ from a coastal town's. What matters is the principle — collective defense, shared labor, mutual aid — not the specific implementation.

Conversion to Thulgard's faith occurs through action and recognition rather than through formal initiation.

Soft entry is constant: a person participates in community defense work. They help train the militia. They assist in building or maintaining walls. They organize responses to disaster. They may not even call themselves followers of Thulgard at first — they are simply doing the work that communities need done. Thulgard is present in the action itself.

Formal recognition comes when a person explicitly commits to the faith and is acknowledged by the local Warden. This is a public ceremony in which the person states their commitment to Thulgard's principles, is asked whether they will prioritize communal defense over personal safety, and are given a simple mark or ring — an Oathband — that bears the name of the settlement they have sworn to protect.

The significance of the Oathband cannot be overstated. It is a constant reminder of a specific commitment to specific people. If the band is broken or lost, it is considered a sign of failed duty, and the follower must either repair the band through renewed service or remove themselves from positions of responsibility.

What makes an enemy rather than a convert: Those who deliberately weaken communal defenses, who sabotage walls or infrastructure, who hoard supplies in times of crisis, who betray defensive positions to invaders. These are not approached for conversion; they are removed as threats to community survival.

A devoted follower of Thulgard is recognizable by their habits of vigilance and care.

Date: First day of the year.

The year begins with a reaffirmation of Thulgard's protection. On this day, townspeople gather to bless their doors and windows, applying ceremonial marks to protect against danger in the year ahead. New militia members are sworn in at sunrise. Children carry small wooden shields in parades, learning from childhood the symbols of their community's defense. The day culminates in the lighting of the central hearth and a communal meal, establishing the pattern that will carry through the year: shared labor, shared meals, shared defense.

Date: Mid-season (precise date varies by region based on local history of attacks).

A somber dusk vigil remembering lost towns and fallen defenders. Families place a lantern in their window or at their gate as darkness falls. The practice is deeply practical: if any lantern goes out during the night, the household has failed in their watch, and they must deliver food to a neighbor the next day in atonement for the lapse.

The communal element is significant: neighbors check on neighbors, not from suspicion but from care. The ritual creates a moment where the entire community affirms its commitment to mutual protection. Temples toll a bell once for each name added to the town's wall of remembrance during the previous season.

Date: First day of spring.

Celebrating community labor and reconstruction, this springtime holy day features barn-raisings, wall repairs, road maintenance, and other group projects. Participation is considered sacred work. Clerics use ceremonial hammers to strike the cornerstones of any structure completed during this day, blessing the work and invoking Thulgard's protection on the building.

Children are taught the Builder's Pledge and participate in laying bricks, planting hedges, or other visible contributions to the community's infrastructure. The day ends with communal celebration, but the work is the main event — Thulgard is honored through action, not ceremony.

Performed when a family moves into a new home or returns after displacement due to disaster or war. A Warden or senior keeper carries coals from the temple's hearth to the new home and uses them to relight the household fire. This ritual connects the family's hearth to the temple's hearth, symbolizing that they are under Thulgard's protection and part of the community's collective warmth.

The ritual includes a statement of welcome into the community and an affirmation that the community will defend and support the family.

A community-based vow made during times of imminent threat — invasion, plague, famine, natural disaster. Participants link hands around a settlement's perimeter (or around a symbolic boundary if the full perimeter cannot be gathered). Standing in this human chain, they swear to defend the settlement, to come what may, and to hold together against any force that would break them.

This ritual is physically demanding and emotionally intense. It creates a visible, tangible reminder of community unity and mutual obligation. Many communities report that the act of the Wallbinding — literally standing linked with neighbors and swearing together — provides psychological resilience that carries through the crisis.

Observed by militia members or by families grieving defensive losses, this ritual involves standing watch for seven minutes at a home or town gate without speaking. Often performed on anniversaries of attacks or natural disasters, it serves as both remembrance and renewal of commitment. The seven minutes reflect the legendary seven hours that Jon of the Broken Gate held his post.

When someone dies in defense of the community, a Naming Ceremony is performed within days. The fallen person's name is formally added to the Wall of Names, their deeds are recounted, and the community affirms that they will remember and honor the sacrifice. The ceremony is solemn but not mournful — it affirms that the sacrifice had meaning and that the community is still here, still standing, because of what was given.

Worn by senior keepers during rites of defense and community blessing. These robes are layered wool and leather in muted earth tones — greens, browns, grays — with stitched patterns of stonework or interlocking shields. The robes are functional, designed for both labor and ceremony. They are warm enough for standing watch and durable enough to survive working on fortifications.

A short cloak worn over one shoulder, clasped with a circular brooch shaped like Thulgard's holy symbol. The fabric is thick and waterproof — used historically during sieges to keep defenders dry and warm. The mantle is passed from one Warden to the next, carrying the weight of previous leadership.

Blacksmith-style gauntlets worn by high-ranking clergy during construction blessings or when consecrating weapons and walls. They are symbolic of unity between builders and defenders, representing that the work of building and the work of protecting are both sacred expressions of Thulgard's faith.

Each initiated cleric and committed follower receives a simple iron ring or armband called an Oathband, engraved with the name of the settlement they swore to protect. If the band is ever broken or lost, it is a sign of failed duty. Many keepers have multiple bands if they have served multiple communities, and wearing multiple bands is a mark of long service and dedication.

A halfling farmer of no particular distinction before the day his village was raided. Facing sudden violence, he did not freeze or flee. He gathered what was at hand — a spade, overturned carts, terrified neighbors — and organized them into an improvised defensive position. He held this position for hours while others escaped, using his understanding of terrain and his ability to coordinate frightened, untrained people into something resembling organized defense.

He was not killed in the defense, though he was seriously wounded. After the raid was ended, he organized the survivors into rebuilding their community. More importantly, he established the practice of teaching everyone — not just warriors, but farmers, bakers, elders, and children — the basics of community defense. This democratization of defensive knowledge is the foundation of Thulgard's faith.

A statue of Garlan stands in the temple of every community that traces its founding to Thulgard's followers. He is not invoked for heroic courage but for practical problem-solving and the ability to organize ordinary people into effective action.

A dwarf priestess known across generations for her work rebuilding five villages destroyed during the Orc Wars. She traveled with a mobile workforce, arriving in each devastated settlement and organizing the survivors into the labor of reconstruction. Her hammer bore the names of every family she helped rehome, carved into the metal as a permanent record of her commitment.

Ellin disappeared during her work rebuilding a collapsed tunnel, crushed in a rockslide while ensuring the evacuation of workers who had been trapped. Her body was never recovered. Her final prayer, spoken just before the collapse, became a hymn of the faith:

She exemplifies Thulgard's teaching that the most important people in a community are often those who do the unglamorous work of maintenance and rebuilding, and that sacrifice in this work is holy.

A teenage blacksmith's apprentice who, during a sudden attack on Coldfield Keep, found himself at the broken gate as the keep's defenders fell. Rather than flee, he stood in the gateway, using his position and what combat training he possessed to slow the attackers and buy time for civilians inside to escape.

He died on his feet, buried in rubble when the gate finally collapsed. His act of simple, direct defense — nothing heroic, just a teenager doing what needed to be done when he was the one present — became emblematic of Thulgard's teaching that ordinary people performing their duty are the true strength of communities.

His act is commemorated in the annual Gatewatch Fast, where villagers hold a seven-minute silent vigil at the gates of their homes or towns in his honor.

A smooth, fire-colored stone said to have been carried in Garlan Mudspade's toolbelt. It never cools entirely, maintaining a constant warmth that followers believe represents Thulgard's eternal vigilance. Temples place this stone at the center of their hearths to symbolize unbroken watchfulness and to serve as a focus for the ritual lighting of the communal fire.

Forged from melted nails taken from destroyed homes, this ceremonial hammer bears the names of every family Ellin helped rebuild. The hammer is said to ring loudest when striking unsteady foundations — both literal and moral. When placed against a weak wall, it supposedly vibrates and hums in warning; when struck against sound construction, it rings clear and true.

This cracked but unbroken shield was recovered from the ruins of Coldfield Keep after Jon's sacrifice. Despite the damage it suffered, the shield remains structurally sound — the crack runs through it but does not break it into pieces. It is said to glow faintly when danger is near to defenseless civilians, as if Jon's protective instinct continues to watch over the vulnerable.

The shield is carried only during the Holdfast Eve vigil, when keepers process through communities carrying it as a tangible reminder of the importance of standing one's ground and of the power of individual choice to protect others.

How they refer to themselves: the Builders or the Fire Keepers

This sect focuses on post-disaster relief and reconstruction. Members are trained in siege repair, rapid architecture, crisis logistics, and the ability to organize communities for large-scale rebuilding. When disaster strikes — plague, war, flood, earthquake — the Emberwall Circle arrives with tools, knowledge, and the capacity to coordinate the massive effort required to restore a community to functionality.

They believe that every stone laid is a prayer to Thulgard, that the act of rebuilding destroyed structures is as sacred as any temple ceremony. The sect takes its name from Ellin's work, and its members see themselves as inheritors of her commitment to restoration.

How they refer to themselves: the Watchers or the Memory Keepers

Dedicated to preserving the memory of fallen defenders, this sect builds and maintains defender memorials and watchtowers in places where no active threat remains. They believe Thulgard's protection extends beyond death if names are remembered and deeds honored.

The Gravetower Vigil is often less militaristic than other sects — they focus on the work of remembrance and on maintaining the infrastructure of memory. They fight to preserve names, stories, and understanding of past conflicts so that future generations do not repeat the errors that created tragedy.

How they refer to themselves: the Coordinated or the Line Keepers

The most militaristic sect, these followers train communities in phalanx-style defense and town-wide coordination. They believe that no one is useless in defense of home — that even children can be lookouts, elders can be planners and organizers, and the disabled can contribute meaningful roles to community defense.

Many town militias adopt Shieldline practices, even if they do not formally join the faith. The sect's emphasis on coordination over individual prowess has proven effective: smaller, well-coordinated forces regularly outperform larger, less-organized ones. This practical success is cited as proof of Thulgard's teachings.

How they refer to themselves: the Pure Built

This heresy argues that only those born within a fortified structure (not in the wild, traveling, or on the road) are worthy of Thulgard's blessing. It rejects Thulgard's open commitment to protecting all people and instead tries to create a spiritual hierarchy based on birthplace and social stability.

This directly contradicts Thulgard's core commitment to universalism. The orthodox faith teaches that the homeless, nomadic, and displaced are exactly those whom Thulgard most protects. The Brickborn Doctrine's exclusivity is seen as a fundamental corruption of the faith.

How they refer to themselves: the Iron Wall

This heresy argues that preemptive violence is the best form of protection — that followers should train for constant readiness and strike at threats before they manifest. Members train children in weaponry from age five and promote striking first, before threats arise, claiming this is the truest expression of defense.

The orthodox faith rejects this as confusion between defense and aggression. Thulgard teaches that defense is reactive — stopping threats that are actual, not imagined. The War Warden approach turns Thulgard from a guardian into an oppressor, and communities aligned with this heresy tend to generate conflicts they then "defend" against.

How they refer to themselves: the Self-Sufficient

This heresy teaches that true devotion to Thulgard means absolute self-sufficiency — that followers should build lives without help, rejecting neighbors and community support as a form of weakness. They argue that individual strength is what Thulgard truly values.

This fundamentally misreads Thulgard's teaching. The faith is built on interdependence and mutual aid. A person who builds alone and defends alone will fail where a coordinated community will succeed. The Isolation Doctrine leads to antisocial communities that are more vulnerable, not less, and that often face catastrophic failures when crisis arrives.

How they refer to themselves: the Fire-Blessed or the Heart Keepers

This cult believes that the hearth is literally divine — that fire from a blessed hearth is a fragment of Thulgard himself. They elevate the symbolic hearth into a holy relic, hoard coals and ash, wear fire-scorched robes, and even brand themselves with hearth runes.

Their practices become increasingly extreme: members insist that fire be kept burning at all times, even when starvation or danger would make extinguishing it sensible. They steal hearth ashes from temples and other shrines, seeing this as a sacred rite of passage. The cult has been known to let communities burn rather than extinguish fires that had been blessed, believing the fire itself sacred above human life.

How they refer to themselves: the Eternal Wall or the Keepers of Boundaries

Not to be confused with the legitimate Wallwarden role, this cult believes that Thulgard's true will is expressed through walls, and that a community without a perimeter is spiritually vulnerable. They turn defense into obsession.

Towns aligned with this cult build excessive walls, turning villages into fortresses — even building walls around single homes. Outsiders are viewed with suspicion, and even travel between homes within the community is regulated and monitored. Any unprotected space is considered "blasphemy made manifest." The cult often engages in hostile actions against neighboring communities, seeing all outsiders as potential threats requiring preemptive defense.

How they refer to themselves: the Sacrifice or the Eternal Vigil

This cult believes that Thulgard values sacrifice above all and that no shield should ever remain unbroken. They practice a twisted veneration of martyrdom, intentionally damaging shields before combat, treating repair as "spiritual cowardice."

Members of this cult rush into danger without regard for self-preservation, arranging unnecessary risks to attain what they believe is the "blessing" of dying while protecting others. They often die in situations that had easy solutions, throwing away lives for no strategic benefit. The orthodox faith considers them profoundly mistaken about Thulgard's teaching: endurance and skilled defense, not wasted sacrifice, is the goal.

(See: Cosmology/Physical Realms/The Shattered Domain)