TheHoverpope/Anapyxi

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Anapyxi, The Sower of Seeds Innumerable, Fetich soul of Chorima

Anapyxi is the truest essence of the earth - for as much as the earth hides below its surface, it supports more, and infinite variation grows on its surface from the bounty that it provides. Anapyxi is the bounty of Chorima in all things. She is the central heart of Chorima, and without her the Malfean earth's essence would change so that it might no longer bear the weight of the world on its shoulders.

Anapyxi is the greatest among all of demon kind in knowing the ways of things that grow naturally in or of the earth; plants, mountains, rivers and some animals all are within her sight. In her passing great forests spring from the smallest seeds and are swallowed by great valleys spreading from the tiniest crack and filled with rivers swelling from a single droplet of water. Her passage leaves chaos, disorder, and most importantly growth.

Anapyxi is to the sight an infant walking unstably on her two feet for the first time, and as she walks her skin weeps off her constantly, and each drop that falls to the ground grows as something new. Most of her children consume each other, but some grow mighty in her wake. This constant sloughing off of her exterior changes her look always, and though she is always beautiful, she is always changing as she sheds her exterior to build new things. Wriggling growths roll off of her like snakeskins and take root in the soil. When she first walked, seven great beings rolled off of her flesh and she named them her souls; and they are as varied as the rest of her spawn. Anapyxi cares not for what happens to her children, only that they are born; if they die and return to the earth, so much the greater.

Notes and Abilities: Anapyxi can control growth to an incredible degree. She can make a great land fertile for countless ages or render one barren, and in her passage grows, among other things, an army of beasts that serve her forever and faithfully, though she does not notice them. She is incredibly hard to hurt, not because she fights well - she ignores combat even if it erupts about her - but because any harm done to her grows back in less than an instant. Swords that strike her may become enmeshed and entangled in her roiling flesh, and grow to be great hillocks or glowing fireflies or steel trees in seconds as they are sloughed off and she walks on, unpurturbed.