Jaqkin, Messenger God of the Northern Winds

Messenger Gods are chosen by the King of the Gods (or one of his vassals, at least) for their speed, and no one could deny that Jaqkin was fast. He can travel between the Realm of the Gods, the Underworld and the Mortal Realm in-between within a day and still have time to play a prank or two.

Because of this speed, Jaqkin was able to finish his divine duties prematurely and stop by a party. Jaqkin could be easily spotted as a god by his glowing sapphire eyes, deathly pallor and chalk-white head of hair. Common for gods of winter and the far North, inheriting it from the original Primordial God of Winter. He did not need to disguise himself for this party though, as today was a special occasion, for it was Floreitical, the Festival dedicated to the Goddess of the Harvest Florae.

Florae was sister to the King of the Gods Stoivik and the actual mother what could only be described as a pantheon of gods and goddesses of nature, of love and bounty. To celebrate her was to celebrate the things that made life worth living, so when her festival came out in the mortal realm, everything was pulled out. Many celebrate the festival differently, but Jaqkin chose this particular village for its famous (or some would say infamous) excess. People exchanged gifts, they drank themselves sick, all culminating in a week-long, non-stop hedonist experience.

It was the first night of the festival and a massive bonfire was lit in the center of town. Humans were dancing like fools to a band playing lively music. People put on face masks as daring woman would pull the front of their shirts to show off the bountiful gifts they owe to Florae. Drunken fools singing off-key as their sober friends laughed. Men wrestling as the crowds cheered them on. The party was so lively, it attracted the attention of some of the more magical beings that lived in the forest nearby. Jaqvin could see satyrs and nymphs, trolls and slattenpattes, changelings pretending to be human as they danced, a limp in their dancing the only clue behind their inhumanity.

Being a god, Jaq had a strong tolerance for mortal beers and wines. However, he had been drinking non-stop since he had arrived midday in drinking contests (all of which he had won), toasts people made for good health and good fortune, and samplings of different home-brewed meads and ales the various families in the village had been brewing all year. Some of them might have been accidentally poisoned due to their poor quality - half of the other samplers vomiting excessively a few hours ago - but Jaq could stomach it just fine.

He felt his cheeks blush, the intoxication setting in, before he saw a young man deeply kissing a nubile young redhead, his hand clumsily reaching up her dress and careless and touching what must have been a virgin's bounty in an alleyway. Jaq was also sure that there many couples (even more so) who had wandered into the nearby forest to "celebrate" in honor of the Goddess of Fertility. The very thought left a sudden tightness in his loins,

Hey, it was Floreitical, after all.