This troublemaker is a jester and a fool, a lie-smith, but armed with divine energy and power. His tricks change the world, his pranks create or destroy. Sometimes his jokes are harmless, such as when he attended an important banquet and made all the gods' clothing transparent. Eurmal can be helpful, as illustrated when he distracted the gate guards of Hell so that the Lightbringers could slip by. Often he is malicious, as when he ate all of the flying raccoon babies. He is as often the butt of jokes as he is the prankster.
Eurmal is a self-indulgent buffoon. Eating, drinking, and fornicating are his favored activities; thievery and callousness are his entertainments. Every sensible deity throws this bum out of his pantheon if he can, and every sensible human throws any worshiper out of his house. Only Orlanth can (sometimes) control him.
Eurmal is usually shown provocatively dressed and impishly grinning, often with sharp teeth. With one hand he holds a leather bag of tricks while he makes an obscene gesture with the other.
Trickster has been born many times. No one knows how many. Most people say it has been too many.
Trickster goes by many names and many shapes. He is a liar, a shapeshifter, a joker, a murderer, an innocent victim, a ravenous glutton, usually insatiably selfish but occasionally touchingly generous. He is a paradox and a mystery, or else too shallow to be real. His life and stories are jumbled, though the God Learners discerned or imposed an order upon them.
At first Trickster was mischievous, but harmless. He pulled pranks, such as letting a tangle of boggles loose at Yelm's feast, but there was no harm in him. Since Death had not yet come even the worst devastation was only a temporary annoyance to the gods and First People, who reformed themselves and continued their lives.
The growing confusion of the Gods Wars made Trickster's impact more widespread. His jokes changed on the world, and many fearful gods blamed their problems upon him. He became the scapegoat for the problems of the world, and from that time everyone began to hate, fear, and despise him. One time Vadrus chopped him up and fed him to chickens, hoping that he would be reborn as a harmless bird. Trickster became disgusted with the hypocrisy of the world and vowed that it deserved to be destroyed. He became Eurmal the Destroyer, and set upon a deliberate path to assist the demise of the universe. His most critical actions were to facilitate the discovery, use, and continued reuse of Death.
Despite his former success at destruction, or maybe because of it, Trickster sought to halt the process. The Theyalans say Orlanth forced him to do this. In company with other friends of the storm god, Trickster trekked through the Underworld and succeeded in the famous Lightbringer's Quest.
Since the Dawn the Trickster has achieved no great success. Everyone remembers his inconsistency, his infidelity, and his gross social habits. Even his friends only grudgingly acknowledge his actions to save the world. He is given enough worship to maintain his many shrines.
The Second Age saw the realization of a great dream. Hofhadalos the Nonwise, a God Learner, privately financed the construction of The Temple of United Eurmal. This was a collection of all known Trickster shrine types, so trickster priests could obtain all Trickster rune spells at one place. The experiment worked, though no new spells came to light from the massed worship of thousands of initiates. But it was judged a failure by Hofhadalos's peers, because of the overwhelming influence of the disorderly god and his minions, each of whom performed one or two catastrophic actions for their favorite city, movement, or friend before being caught and condemned by local authorities. Hofhadalos himself was trapped into an inescapable feast, where all other guests were boggles and madmen. He is still there. Without his support the temple went bankrupt and was condemned to be razed. However, the land of Slontos sank beneath the sea before the demolition. Some tricksters claim that their cult did it. Since the defending tricksters also went beneath the waves, many people doubt their claim, or counterclaim that they got their own justice.
No one openly acknowledges himself to be a hero of Trickster, though some are suspected of such.
Funeral rites are not important for any Trickster cult. They openly put forth that life and death are both illusions, that they will undoubtedly change after either experience, and embrace wildly variant life-after-death creeds. Most scholars agree that Trickster's Runes include Illusion, Disorder, and Change.
A single fact unites the many subcults which collectively comprise this religion: they all disagree. In fact, they cannot even agree what rune he has (Illusion, Change, or Disorder). The idea of a world-wide "Cult of Trickster" is laughable, and is the imposition of God Learner thinking, not internal organization.
The Trickster religion is an illusion. It does not exist in any formalized sense. Those who worship Trickster in his many forms each belongs to a separate subcult which has, at most, two divine spells. Each shrine operates completely independently.
Each Trickster subcult is separate from all others, each with its own divine spell. His temples are only shrines. Paradoxically, these many shrines work in unofficial harmony, for a worshiper can get rune spells from any shrine. However, the wide distance between shrines permits only well-traveled tricksters to carry a wide array of spells.
Spirits of the Trickster can be summoned and worshiped as spirit cults by shamans. Hence, the Trickster is one of the most common and widespread spirit cults in existence.
Some shrines provide identical spells, though they worship different aspects of the god. By categorizing them by spells we can discern several "types" which act as subcults.
Trickster often got angry, and depending on the story told he killed off a family (Peloria's Holdbright dynasty, after Yelm died), a type of animal (the three-horns of Pamaltela), or the whole world (in Theyalan myth).
At various times Trickster takes parts of his body off, and then restores them. Among the Theyalans he passed his body parts through a hole in a wall, and reassembled himself on the far side. A story told on Pamaltelan grasslands is of his five years as a head, seeking the rest of his body which he'd lost.
Many people agree that Trickster, in one form or another, stole fire from the darkness. Among the Pentans he was Raven, in Pamaltela he was Hare, and for the Theyalans he was a Lightbringer.
Sometimes the god saves himself by making everyone laugh, or otherwise amuses others. In Tarien the badger brothers planned to eat him, but he caused them to laugh so hard they died. In Theyalan mythology Eurmal's amusements include puns, prancing, and pratfalls before Orlanth lets him off the hook.
Trickster finds it amusing to frighten others. Elves hate him, because his terror lurks in the depths of their woods. In Ralios he got food by frightening children to death. In Peloria he began a reign of terror among dying empires, frightened off even trolls for a while, then succumbed to his own fears.
Never-ending capacity marks the hungry trickster. In Kralorela he punished his enemies by eating everything edible in the land, but burst because he could not hold it all. He once out-ate Kyger Litor, saving his own life but impoverishing the troll community. Along the Pamaltelan coast he is the Catsup Slob because he puts the local spicy sauce on everything.
A playful, but essentially harmless, character. In Pamaltela he burned off Pamalt's hair once, another time fooled everyone into putting their clothes on backwards, and a third time made the Artmali oversleep when Pamalt was coming to visit. In Ralios he taught everyone a dance which they could not stop until they made him laugh.
Trickster knows many ways to cheat others. Sometimes he does it for profit, and sometimes just to harm others. His disguise as The Mask creates false reasons and worship which seem useful to those who join but proves always to be empty and meaningless.
Trickster has dispatched many other beings. Some were by accident, as when he made the House of Horvanglos collapse. Sometimes it was necessary, as when he ate all of the red headed women of the Pamaltela grasslands. Sometimes it was for vengeance, as when he slew Little Zorangos who insulted Trickster's mother. Sometimes it was for fun, as when he burnt the trade fleets of Moskatall and Sigtrigor.
Trickster often lived by his wits, and occasionally was successful. In Fronela he tricked the ancient kings into feeding him for seven years before they discovered he never fulfilled his promises, and in Kralorela he sold imaginary armies in return for sleeping with the imperial harem.
Trickster has incredible skills to seduce the opposite sex. In one story of the East Isles, Trickster lives seventy eight years, sleeping each night with a different married woman. Sometimes his skills prove his undoing. In Peloria an idle boast causes the local king to test Trickster, who successfully seduces almost every female sent to him including a century-old virgin priestess, one hundred leper women, and a grizzly bear. He is halted only by Gorgorma, a goddess with teeth in a bad place. In Theyalan mythology he even seduces Sinjota, the demon of darkness guarding the gates to the underworld, who eats her lovers. (She ate Trickster, too.)
Trickster often changes his shape. The various shrines are all dedicated to one or another change, and so the spells are usually Become Something-or-other, often an animal, but sometimes a type of tree, a rock, or even (in Naskorion, a city of Ralios) a dirty shirt or (in Pent) a pile of dung.
Trickster's favorite form of thievery is stealing from friends or companions. In Tanisor Trickster took the stirrups and saddles from the steeds of Basmol, so none of the Basmoli could ever ride animals. In Ralios he took away Orlanth's flying boots, so the chieftain of the gods had to walk through the Dead Forests. In Enkloso he stole Artmal's Diamond of Command and Protection, which marked the god's doom. In the East Isles, Trickster, called Invisible Jayoran, stole his father's magic cattle, weapons, and ship, then departed uncaring of the doom he left behind.
One day the Thunder Brothers were showing off what they could do with their breath. Vangarth could fly on his, Vinga could create the defender storm, Ohorlanth could create huge storms, and in fact they could all do something.
When Eurmal saw what they were doing he quickly hid, fearing that he would become the target of their powers. From his hiding place in an old turnip he watched them bluster and blow. "It isn't fair," he thought to himself, "everyone has a mighty breath but me. I wish I had a powerful breath like that."
Eventually the Thunder Brothers wandered off to other duties, and Eurmal left his turnip. "There must be someone else who doesn't have a breath." He muttered. Then he decided to go find out whom.
First he thought of Gustbran. "He wasn't there boasting and blowing, I bet he doesn't have a breath." thought Eurmal. So he found Gustbran at his forge, and said, "We're alike in not having a breath, we should be friends."
Gustbran just gave Eurmal a withering glance, and then blew a long and steady breath over his coals, bringing them up to a perfect and even redness.
Eurmal slunk out of Gustrbran's forge, then said to himself "Lhankor Mhy wasn't there boasting and blowing either, and his chest isn't much bigger than mine, he must not have a breath either." So he found Lhankor My in his library, and said, "We're alike in not having a breath, we should be friends."
Lhankor My immediately started an impassioned lecture on the nature and importance of "breath." By the time Eurmal's ears were too tired to listen anymore Lhankor My hadn't stopped to breathe.
Eurmal slunk out of Lhankor My's library, then said to himself "Minlister wasn't there boasting and blowing either, and you never see him compete with the Thunder Brothers, he must not have a breath either." So he found Minlister by his vat, and said, "We're alike in not having a breath, we should be friends."
Just then Minlister sent a gentle puff of air over the vat, and refreshing smell of flowers came off the beer. Eurmal was tempted to slink away again, but he was more interested in beer than in coals or lectures, so he stayed instead.
"What did you do?" he asked Minlister.
Minlister smiled and replied "The barley has to give up its breath before the beer is finished. I just finished convincing the grain sisters to give up their breath, then I breathed mine over the vat to help ease theirs out."
"Barley has breathed?" Eurmal demanded, indignantly.
"Of course, everything has breathe." Assured Minlister.
Then Eurmal slunk out. "How could even Barley have breathe if I don't?" he demanded. But the world didn't answer him, so he came up with his own answer. "It can't. Minlister was trying to play a trick on me, that's all. But how to prove it?" Then Eurmal had an idea, he'd show that the beer was the same whether Minlister got the barley to give up its breath or not.
The next time Minlister was getting ready to brew a batch of beer, Eurmal crept into his brewery when Minlister wasn't there. Eurmal disguised himself to look a little like Ernalda, and he told the Barley that it must keep its breathe to itself no matter what. The Barley, being fairly simple, agreed.
Later Eurmal hid himself outside Minlister's brewery, until he heard Minlister muttering and cursing. Eurmal sauntered in, and asked, "What's wrong?"
"The barley won't give up its breath, and I don't understand why not. This batch of beer will be ruined."
"Oh, would you like me to get rid of it for you?"
"No, it will be no good to drink at all, I'll just pour it out."
Eurmal looked affronted "I wasn't going to drink it. My cabbages could use some extra water, if you'll just pour it into a barrel I'll roll it over and pour it on them."
Now, Minlister didn't totally believe Eurmal, but he felt just a little sorry for him, and he didn't really want to have to find somewhere to pour it himself, so he put his spoiled beer into a barrel and let Eurmal roll it away.
Of course, Eurmal went and hid the barrel under a pile of hay, then crawled inside and started to drink. He was furious to discover that Minlister was right, that the beer didn't taste any good. But it did still have its usual effects on Eurmal, so he kept drinking until the barrel was dry.
Just then it happened to be time for a feast. Eurmal knew better than to try and sit down and eat for the Thunder Brothers would probably throw him out, but he went and hid along the roof beam, waiting until they fell asleep so he could steal the scraps they left behind.
The feast was typical of its kind, and lasted quite some time. Gradually Eurmal began to feel strange. There was an odd pressure in his gut, but by then Eurmal was so hungry he didn't want to leave his post. Then the pressure became a pain, and he hurt too much to want to move anyway.
All of the Thunder Brother's had eaten their fill, and were relaxing and talking when suddenly something happened. Something shot out of Eurmal's backside with a sound like the bellowing of a bull, and the pain in Eurmal's gut eased up.
Everyone was startled by the noise, then Elmal yelled "That could be trolls attacking, I'll take my shield to the ramparts and shine my light upon them." He grabbed his bright shield, but then its face lost its luster, and Elmal went all purple in the face.
"I'll find it!" announced Vangarth, and he leapt onto his breath to start looking, but then his breathe lost its strength and he fell to the floor.
"It must be chaos, and it is right inside here!" yelled Vinga, and she started running along the table, when suddenly she stumbled, then started retching.
"I'll blow whatever it is away," rumbled Ohorlanth, and he breathed in a mighty breath, but before he could breathe it out coughing overtook him.
Just then something more came out of Eurmal's backside, with a sound like horse that has been wounded, and the pain in Eurmal's gut went away completely. Everyone in the hall began cough and gasp and wretch, so Eurmal took the opportunity to drop to the ground to grab something to eat. So distracted was everybody that none noticed him.
Finally Orlanth bellowed, and his mighty voice blew open the doors to the hall and sent the air out in a great rush. Everyone breathed a little bit easier, but then they heard lamentations coming from all over the land, as the people, the animals, and even the plants were offended by the odor.
Just then something more came out of Eurmal's backside, with a sound like an Alynx in battle, and most of the pressure in his gut went away. All the folk in the hall were overcome again. Even Ernalda, who could normally ignore almost anything, was beginning to look pale. Realizing that the Thunder Brothers were not going to be able to solve this problem, she looked around the hall, and spotted Eurmal.
Ernalda pointed a finger at Eurmal, and said, "You, come here." Eurmal obeyed, although he was shaking in his boots, for if there was one person he feared more than Orlanth it was Ernalda.
He walked slowly up to her, and just then still more came out of his backside, with a sound like hailstones off of a shield, and the pressure in his gut went away completely. Now Ernalda began to sweat, but demanded, "WHAT is this?"
Eurmal wasn't quite sure what it was, and he doubted that he had any left. All the same, he'd never had such power before, and he hoped to get it back again some time. Thinking quickly he said, "It is my breath!"
"You must take control of it and stop this carnage." Demanded Ernalda.
"I will," said Eurmal slyly, "so long as you agree that nobody should ever be asked to give up their breathe, not even mere plants, like barley."
Minlister knew right then what had happened, but he couldn't breathe well enough to say anything.
Ernalda knew that any commitment to Eurmal would be double-edged, but her eyes were starting to water and she was feeling faint, so she agreed.
Then Eurmal grabbed the remains of a roast pig and ran out of the hall before anyone recovered enough to beat him.
After that, Minlister still breathed on his beer, and that was enough to get the barley to give up most of its breath, but not all. Soon everyone found that if they drank much ale they too would get the pressure in their gut. Nobody ever had results as dramatic as Eurmal (and even Eurmal never matched that first wonderful night). Eurmal claimed that his breath was so powerful that he could share it with others, although most people doubted his story, as most people always doubt what Eurmal says.
To this day though, some folk call this "Eurmal's breath," although others say it is the ale wind that blows no good.