Laughing Knave

The Laughing Knave is the god of mischief, tricks, thieves, humor, and revelry. He delights in wine, hedonism, and song. He is a vagabond, a prankster, and a master of disguise. His temples are few and his worship done in secret—but there are more people than you know who will raise a glass in his honor.

He is known as the Merrymaker, the Trickster, and the Reveler.

Overview
The Laughing Knave is the god of mischief, wine, and revelry, and the patron of thieves, minstrels, gamblers, and promotes the freedom to choose your own path in life. The Merrymaker is said to be outgoing, friendly, boisterous, unashamed, and flirtatious—even more so when there are fermented delights. He loved good-spirited toasts, games of chance, bawdy songs, and a well-executed trick or prank. He loathes slavery, mean-spiritedness, bullying, and restrictive laws and customs. He believes that everyone would get along better if they could all just sit down and have a drink, preferably in the company of attractive companions. He expects his followers to be clever in the face of danger, though there’s no shame in retreat—he’s the god of mischief, not stupidity. Although most assume his faithful will accept any dare, the god’s focus on freedom keeps his followers from being manipulated so easily. It’s traditional among his adherents to toast his name with the first drink of the evening.

The Laughing Knave’s direct intervention with the mortal world is rare, but he’s been known to prevent a keg from emptying (often to help folk survive a siege or convince them to congregate a little longer in a place of safety) or to push someone especially meek to show courage at a key moment. Having seen his share of misery and devastation, he’s not above helping someone for free every now and then, but he also promotes fair pay for a job well done, whether it’s in coin, drink, or a tumble with an enthusiastic paramour. This simple philosophy makes him somewhat popular with adventurers and sellswords.

As the god of wine, his interest is in the merriment and socialization that wine can bring, rather than attempting to drown or forget sorrows. He despise mean drunks or those who allow their drunkenness to hurt others or themselves. There’s nothing fun about that.

Those who go against his simple tenets may find themselves ill the next time they drink, intoxicated the next time a lucrative opportunity comes along, happen upon a string of bad luck, embarrass themselves in front of a potential paramour, or just unable to do anything smoothly or stealthily. Their lockpicks snap in half, and they easily startle. When he is happy, drinks are more delicious and things just tend to go their way.

Dogma
Don’t let the rules get in the way of enjoying what’s good in life. Avoid misery, temperance, and solemnity, for they are the greatest poisons to the soul. Ownership equals possession. If you want something, take it—as long as you’re willing to risk the consequences. If someone takes an item from you, then you didn’t guard it carefully enough and should take better care next time.

As a general rule, followers of the Laughing Knave spend much of their time upsetting anyone who seems too attached to an ordered life or predictable routine. He teaches that life is meant to be enjoyed, and that the best jokes need a good target to hang them on. The tables can turn on any trickster, and the Laughing Knave’s followers should accept the laugh and appreciate the trick when it happens to them. Wine, the god of mischief says, is one of the joys of life...and the only thing better than making wine is drinking wine.

Although his divine concerns are…flexible in interpretation, he is hard as nails when it comes to someone’s right to freedom. He believes there’s no justice or enjoyment to be derived from rules, and the only sensible way to live one's life is without the shackles of tradition, rules, or hierarchy. He especially hates laws or rules that oppress one person to benefit another. His adherents believe that over the centuries, the Knave has worked to counter slavery, topple tyranny, throw a monkey wrench into the gears of civilization, and even the plots of gods who see mortal misery as a fair price to pay in pursuit of their goals. In places where the peasantry suffers from harsh taxes or demoralizing practices, he helps them topple their oppressors—or at least aids them in escaping to somewhere friendlier. Though often seen as a god of rebellion, he doesn’t really believe in vengeance or coups for their own sake. He is not a god of destructive chaos or madcap frivolity—his followers must take responsibility for the consequences of their actions.

The Laughing Knave could not care less for the battle between good and evil. He personally found the Deceiver’s big "long-con" that led to the Sundering to be kind of hilarious, and that the exile of the gods as a result of that to be deliciously ironic.

The Church
The church of the Laughing Knave is less of a "religious organization" and more of a criminal syndicate. Without any central leadership or organization, every branch and sect of the church is, essentially, left to its own devices and to interpret the words of their god in their own way. The head priest or priestess is functionally a crime lord and they are known to be cunning and ruthless.

Worshipers
Most who follow the Laughing Knave are simply folk who seek contentment in their life, to have a drink with their friends, and to be able to spot good opportunities when they arise. They are generally happy people, preferring to look on the bright side of things. Brewers, vintners, barkeeps, and innkeepers pray to the Laughing Knave (perhaps not openly) for good food, tasty drinks, and good business—and of course, to turn away thieves. The faithful live for the opportunity to pull a fast one. Some church members believe any creature they can take advantage of is weak and exists only for their benefit. Most, however, have had hard lives themselves and struggled at one point or another, and instead focus on wealthier members of society who, they believe, are more deserving of their attention and could stand to be knocked down a couple pegs. Openly lawful individuals are frequent targets of the Laughing Knave’s church. His followers enjoy deceiving and tricking anyone, but nothing pleases them more than swindling some paladin or another champion of “law and order”.

To followers of the god of chaos, mischief is a form of worship. Each member tithes a portion of their take, giving thanks to their god for his blessings, and offering prayers of success for their next job. Offerings are always left anonymously by night on a small, hidden shrine, and they always disappear before another night has passed. To steal from this tithe is to invite a curse to your blood—though, let’s be honest, the Knave would still have to respect the moxie.

Shadow Names
The Laughing Knave is a shapeshifter and master of disguise. His holy symbol is a mask, and he is clear about the need to conceal one’s identity and motives, especially when doing things in his name. To that end, the church has universally adopted a tradition of Shadow Names. These are used to protect their own identity and because they sound cool as hell.

This is essentially a nickname that members of the church go by when dealing with each other or outsiders on “church business”. It is common practice to only refer to one another by these names. Learning a Finger’s true name is a mark of great trust—or great leverage. Calling a worshiper by their true name in public, especially around other members of the church, is a huge breach of trust.

For example, “the Nightingale”, “the Artist”, “Two-Bit”, “Dancer”, “Four Eyes”, and “Grinner” are all basic examples of Shadow Names.

Clergy
The Laughing Knave’s religion may be loosely organized, but his servants are nevertheless numerous. They are usually found among urban folk or wandering the countryside in search of something interesting to occupy their time with. His clerics often have second occupations, such as minstrels or bartenders. They can be found almost anywhere, doing anything. The church uses no formal titles, so most just go by their Shadow Name. Because of the god’s easygoing nature and the lack of a central organization, his priests typically use their discretion when it comes to advancing his ideals in the world. Some are swashbucklers and adventurers who rail against slavery and corruption. Others can be found as the heads of local thieves’ guilds, providing sanctuary and training for local thieves, and edging out other criminal groups who may not be so high-minded about who they steal from or how. Some brew ale, some make wine, some plant the crops for these beverages. Some are traveling troupes of entertainers. Priests tip well and often foster orphans and children born of other traveling priests, who are raised by the church community.

A typical day for a priest of the Laughing Knave usually involves waking, a prayer-toast (with a little hair of the dog) and then breakfast before a period of work. Meals begin with a toast, and the afternoon is marked with a swig of alcohol. Evening is for friends, telling stories, and personal interests. The night time, however, is for mischief of all kinds.

The clergy has a tradition of drinking contests and “dueling dares”, or boasting contests. These are all in good fun and never done with the intent to harm. By custom, many brigands who consider themselves civilized will allow a priest of the Laughing Knave to pass safely in exchange for a drink and a blessing, though this courtesy rarely extends to the priest’s companions.

Members of the church like to refer to themselves as “Fingers of the Knave”. Few cities permit open worship of the god of thieves, so the Laughing Knave’s church is little more than a network of hidden shrines and speakeasies tended to by secretive clerics. These temples are always located in urban environments and serve as the heart of thieves’ guilds or smuggling rings—because the Laughing Knave’s followers enjoy music and vices of the city, and find little of interest in more rural places. It would be incorrect and shortsighted to say that members of the church never leave civilization, however; they can be frequently found plumbing the depths of hidden temples and ancient ruins in search of stores of ancient wealth.

The churches only real noncriminal activities involve music. The Laughing Knave loves music and entertainment, so his places of worship are always filled with music of all kinds—perhaps calm garden tunes one day, and bawdy tavern chants the next. A musician is never the target of a trick or mischief, unless they have committed some act that pisses the church off.

Despite the church’s reputation as unreliable, and its members alleged tendency to change sides of a whim, quite the opposite is true. To a point, anyway. There must be honor among thieves and a member of the church will never turn on or sell out a partner, comrade, or brother in arms. The Laughing Knave is god of mischief, not snitches.

Temples & Shrines
The Laughing Knave is quick to dismiss ostentatious ornamentation and pointless displays of ceremony. He doesn’t want sprawling temples, or pious followers who clutch their holy symbols in penance. He wants people to party and celebrate and sing and raise hell. His followers say that a temple to the Trickster can be found anywhere there is wine, song, and laughter.

As such, a place of worship is never a “proper” church, but instead hidden speakeasies that one can find only if they know where to look or who to talk to. They are dark and smoky places where the booze flows like water, and the hymns are bawdy drinking songs. They often double not only as bars, but also casinos, brothels, and smuggling rings.

Holy Texts
The Laughing Knave doesn’t really have a “holy text”; he didn’t have the patience to write his own and never really got around to sending divine inspiration to a follower or whatever to do it for him. He prefers to keep his message simple anyway, and that message can be boiled down to one phrase, which many clerics have tattooed on themselves somewhere:

Enjoy life, take what you want, have a drink now and then, and never forget to raise a little hell.

Rituals
Besides toasts to one’s health, the church is not inclined to formality and official church holidays are few, and most commonly resemble festivals or fairs rather than worship services. The church believes that every day is a good excuse to have a drink and celebrate something.

Orders of the Laughing Knave

 * Band of the Bottle: Originally called “The Brothers of the Bottle”, but they changed it relatively recently out of a desire to be more inclusive. They are a band of adventurers, monster hunters, and swashbucklers who pursue heroic adventurers. They traditionally carry a beer mug or stein on their belts, sometimes even holding in their off-hand for balance or defense.
 * The Door Kickers: This order is a band of rough-riding slave fighters. They are known for their ruthless efficiency when it comes to exposing, tracking, and eliminating slavers of all kinds.
 * The Merry Misfits: A traveling carnival dedicated to the Laughing Knave, the Merry Misfits are known for rowdy songs, copious amounts of wine, and unforgettable shows. They are known to take in outcasts, exiles, and misfits from all walks of life, giving them purpose and sanctuary. They are sometimes referred to as “The Freak Show”, a title they wear with pride.

Appearance
The Laughing Knave is famously a shapeshifter, able to take whatever form he pleases. However, when depicted in art, he is usually shown as an average humanoid with a charming smile and shaggy, dark hair. A bottle of wine is in one hand and he’s always got a cocky, knowing smirk. Some depictions show him wearing his famous black and white mask, while others have the mask simply hanging from his belt, or sometimes in hid other hand.

History
The Laughing Knave is said to have been around with the rest of the Pantheon during the Time Before Time. He mostly pestered the other gods, doing little to participate beyond minor trolling and giving the other gods a hard time. Only one documented creation of the Laughing Knave is said to exist—his sacred animal, the Platypus.

He is said to have gone on many adventures with the Stormlord during the Dawn Age, including (most famously) engaging in a drinking contest with the Mountain of Kings. The two gods became close, like brothers.

Dawn War
But his fun was cut short when the Primordials came onto the scene. The Laughing Knave wasn’t particularly interested in fighting at first, though he is not counted among those who wanted to stand aside and do nothing. He IS counted among the seven named gods who took up arms alongside the Dawnfather; he was the seventh and last god named in the story.

According to the legend, when he volunteered, those who would stand against the Dawnfather asked him: “The primordials wish to tear this world asunder and everything in it. Why would you, of all of us, risk your skin to fight a hopeless battle to save a hopeless universe?”

The Laughing Knave responded with a grin and a simple, “Because I happen to be one of the idiots who lives in it.”

The god of mischief’s exploits during the Dawn War are many—and likely exaggerated. He is often portrayed in these stories as a nuisance and a schemer who outsmarts his primordial foes, using their own chaotic natures against them. For example, a well-known story centers on the Laughing Knave presenting himself as foolish quarry, leading feral primordials into traps set by his friend the Stormlord.

The Search for Kelmor
During the Exalted Age, the Laughing Knave was said to have spent much of time away from Seraphel, wandering the world and finding kings to embarrass and order to disrupt. He is said to have brought revelry and mischief wherever he went, and he changed his shape from place to place.

A popular story from this time is the tale of the Search for Kelmor, the Mighty Sword of the Thunderer. You see, the Laughing Knave had stolen it, trading it for a bottle of wine. He had fully intended to steal it back, but..well...wine and revelry happened. When he came to, he did so to the Stormlord's arrival, with fury and lightning and thunder. He enlisted the aid of the god of mischief in recovering the sword. Of course, the Stormlord was unaware of his friend's involvement. The god of tricks humbly agreed to the request, and legends have been written about the expltoits and shenanigans the duo found themselves on, including drinking an ancient dragon under the table. Finally, after months of searching, they eventually discovered its location—Kelmor had, somehow, wound up in the castle of Gorm, son of Thrym—the father of giants who the Stormlord had slain during the Dawn War. The Stormlord wished to simply kick in the door and take his sword back but the Laughing Knave recognized the need for finesse. After all, it would do nobody any good should Gorm destroy or use his magic to send the blade away who knows where before they got to it. No, they would need cunning to retrieve the sword.

So the Laughing Knave used his magic to disguise himself as a prim matron and also disguised the Stormlord like a maiden—not a particularly beautiful maiden, but he game him a dress and some makeup—and presented him to Gorm as a potential bride. Gorm was cunning—well, no, he wasn’t. But he WAS suspicious and asked them who they were and why they wanted to marry him. The Laughing Knave said that they had come on behalf of King Jack of Mehoff, who had heard many tales of Gorm’s power and fearlessness. He spun flattery and lies together into a beautiful song that Gorm played right into. He asked them a second question, then. If the maiden were, in fact, a maiden then why did she have a beard? The Laughing Knave replied that it was not a beard at all, but a veil! It was customary in their homeland that a husband should not see the wife’s face until it is time to consummate the marriage. Gorm then remarked “she seems quite big for a maid”, to which the Laughing Rogue replied, “Well I imagine anybody who would bear your sons would have to be!”

Satisfied with this, Gorm accepted them into his halls and threw a great feast! The Stormlord wished to tear Gorm apart then and there, but once more the Laughing Knave convinced him to stay his hand—if they killed him now, they may not find out where the sword was being kept. So attended the feast. The Stormlord guzzled barrels of ale and ate entire cuts of beef in one bite. The Laughing Knave, meanwhile, continued to ply Gorm with flattery and alcohol, until at last the titanspawn revealed what he knew of the sword—he was keeping it in his bathroom as a plunger.

This really pissed off the Stormlord, who flipped the table and knocked off Gorm’s head with one clean punch. The giants that filled his hall were shocked and angry at this display. The Stormlord began to bare-knuckle fight the host of giants while the Laughing Knave turned into a crow and flew to where the sword had been kept.

The earth shook beneath their feet as the Stormlord brought down foe after foe, but their numbers were great—perhaps too many, even for the god of battle. But it was in that moment when hope seemed lost that a great crow flew overhead and dropped the sword right into the Stormlord’s hand. The Laughing Knave took his proper form then, and amidst the roaring thunder and clashing steel began to dance about the room, singing a bawdy song and drinking from his bottle of wine as the Stormlord slew six scores of giants.

Their quest complete, the Stormlord made the Laughing Knave swear to never tell another soul of what had happened in Gorm’s Hall. The Laughing Knave, being the trustworthy gentleman that he is, well…you read the story, so you know how that turned out.

The Sundering
The Laughing Knave was among the gods present in Seraphel when the Deceiver revealed his true nature and unleashed the Titans. However, he is not listed among those who fought against their brethren during the siege. Instead, most tales claim that he and the Music Maker focused their efforts on concealing those who could not fight and helping the common citizens escape.

Like most gods, his exploits during the Sundering are not well documented, though hundreds of tales (most of them likely tall tales) are swapped over drinks.

Apocrypha
There are some stories who paint the Laughing Knave as less of a trickster and mischief maker, and more of a sinister figure.

Some claim he is a Primordial that switched sides at the last moment and others claim that whether that claim is true or not, he had a hand in the events that led to the Sundering. After all, how did the Deceiver know how to open the prisons where the titans had been kept?

Whatever the case, the Laughing Knave was never shy about the irony of that whole situation—the gods were knocked off their high horse and driven from the mortal realm forever. Maybe the titans were defeated, but the Deceiver ultimately got what he wanted: a world without gods, a brand new order where mortals were free to guide their own fates.

The Laughing Knave might coyly wonder if that was really such a bad thing after all.

Relationships
The church of the Knave has many enemies. Few understand his principles or ideology, and lawful organizations especially condemn its activities. The churches of the Lawbringer and the Platinum Champion especially frequently try to expose temples to the Laughing Knave and shut them down.

The Laughing Knave, despite being a god of mischief and trouble, doesn’t go out of his way to pick fights with other gods—though he isn’t afraid to join the fray if challenged. He avoids evil gods for the most part, though he rarely passes up a chance to “tweak the devil’s nose”. He’s on good terms with the Moonweaver (who he delights serenading) and with the Music Maker, and enjoys swapping brews with the Allhammer. The Green Shepherd is a little too brooding for him, the Knowing Lord is waaaaay too humorless. He finds the Everlight to be tolerable (and attractive) but too forgiving of evil, oppressive bullshit; some people don’t deserve a second chance.

He of course has a special brotherhood with the Stormlord. But the strangest relationship is the apparent respect he holds for the Dawnfather, who is the only god who can “keep him in line”. Whatever the reasons for it, the church of the Laughing Knave rarely tries to cause strife with the church of the Dawnfather.