Story of Destor

Destor was once an adventuring monk in a prime material world. He was good friends with Doraedian Mythlord. They both had a love for nature, Destor his jungle home far to the south, and Doraedian the deep elven forests to the west. They traveled on many adventures, fighting tyranny and evil. Over a couple of decades, their adventuring party changed composition many times, as brave heroes fell and new ones took their place. Yet Destor remained unscathed through almost every trial, and as his friendship with Doraedian grew, the elf also remained unharmed.

For a short time they both retired, Doraedian running a temple to the elven gods and Destor running a monastery deep in his jungle home. The domestic life was not for them, and eventually they started up their company and traveled the planes, settling in Iron Crown. Back when the city-state was a military outpost, just getting started. They were able to satisfy their desire to settle down by helping the young city thrive, while at the same time taking part in adventures to other planes from this central location. Back then, it was said, planar conjunctions opened more frequently and there was more opportunity to travel, although this also meant fighting horrible monstrosities that entered the astral.

Destor's excellent luck continued and on one adventure with Doraedian, he came upon the Starstone, a powerful artifact that could turn one into a god or destroy your soul forever. It seemed to be luck of the draw, and many a brave adventurer had ended their career during this period by touching the Starstone. Destor touched it of course, and never one to be without great luck, instantly became a living god.

Destor returned to Iron Crown where he quickly attracted followers. Initially they built him a house of worship  in the temple ward, but a series of calamities made it clear that good luck from Destor came at a price, usually bad luck visited upon ones neighbors. His temple was relocated underground, where the threat of seemingly random mayhem was lessened. Over time, with his temple out of sight and his worship a mixed blessing, the number of Destor's followers dwindled.  Over the subsequent two thousand years, the old temple district was abandoned and a new one built above it.

A small Destor cult kept the faith alive until thirty years ago, when the rise of Vlaakith resulted in a scourge of many smaller religions. Only his old friend Doraedian remained a Destor worshipper, whispering a single prayer to his old friend each night, along with the elven gods of his ancient home world pantheon. Destor is dying. It's a bitter experience for a god, but nothing lasts forever.

A god slain before his prime might create a giant explosion, ripping a hole in time and space, devastating entire cities, or taking down an entire world. A god who dies with a whimper fades away, perhaps with unusual events surrounding his passing, but in most cases it's not a noteworthy occasion. Regardless of how a god dies, the flesh and blood of a god has great power according to Requiem for a God, an ancient tome on the topic. As Doraedian Mythlord explains, it is Destor's wish to have his body used in such a fashion, to create an artifact that may turn the tide against the devil worshipers of Iron Crown. Or perhaps Destor will still live with the recounting of his tale by a charismatic bard? Luck is on his side.