The Three Saints

In the high peaks and shadowed valleys of the Agriss Mountains, where survival often depends on unity and endurance, the Tieflings of Areeott have forged a unique spiritual tradition that reflects their struggles, triumphs, and the land itself. The Three Saints folk religion, practiced almost exclusively by the Tieflings and changelings of the region, is a faith rooted in reverence for the ancestors and the sacred balance between light and shadow. Centered around the venerated figures of Granna Anakis, Granna Matari, and Granna Voss, the religion is at once deeply practical and profoundly spiritual, an evolving narrative of resilience and transformation that mirrors the lives of its adherents.

The Three Saints are remembered as the wise and resolute leaders who guided the Tieflings through the darkest days of the Arin Civil War and into the safety of the mountains. Each Saint embodies virtues that the Tieflings hold sacred: strength, compassion, and pragmatism. Over generations, these figures have transcended their historical roles to become archetypes of the qualities necessary to thrive in the unforgiving mountains and to forge a place for their people within the Arin identity. While the Saints are revered, they are not worshiped as deities. Instead, they are seen as intercessors, stewards of the community’s moral compass, and guardians of the balance that sustains both the land and its people.

The religion is deeply intertwined with the natural rhythms of Areeott, its practices shaped by the cycles of the seasons and the mountains themselves. Shrines to the Three Saints are scattered throughout the vaults and the mountains, blending Infernal sigils with Arin alpine motifs. These shrines are often simple yet symbolic—stones arranged in triads, candles burning in alcoves, and small offerings left as tokens of gratitude or pleas for guidance. Fire, the sacred element of the Tieflings, burns brightly at these sites, a constant reminder of the Saints’ enduring presence.

Granna Anakis, the Saint of Strength and Balance, is invoked in moments of challenge and hardship. She is remembered for her ability to enforce discipline and maintain harmony, even in the chaos of war. Her teachings emphasize the importance of structure and the necessity of walking the line between extremes. Those who seek her guidance leave offerings of metalwork or carefully balanced stones, symbols of her unyielding resolve and her role as the guardian of equilibrium.

Granna Matari, the Saint of Compassion and Healing, represents the nurturing force that binds the community together. Her memory is tied to her unwavering care for the vulnerable, from tending to the newborns of Areeott to healing the physical and emotional wounds left by the war. Her teachings focus on empathy, connection, and the power of love to mend what is broken. Offerings left in her name often include wildflowers, small tokens of warmth like knitted scarves or shawls, and vessels of mountain spring water. Her shrines, quieter and more secluded, often serve as places of reflection and solace.

Granna Voss, the Saint of Pragmatism and Duty, embodies the hard decisions and foresight required to ensure survival. He is remembered as the one who shouldered the burdens others could not, ensuring the safety and stability of the Tiefling people through unflinching practicality. His teachings remind the faithful of the importance of seeing the larger picture and of making sacrifices when necessary for the greater good. Offerings left to Granna Voss often include tools, carvings of mountain animals, or pieces of parchment inscribed with vows or plans, symbolizing his role as a steward of foresight and responsibility.

Beneath the reverence for the Saints, however, lies a deeper, more mysterious layer of the faith—the figure of the Red Widow. Though never explicitly depicted and rarely spoken of, the Red Widow is believed to be the unseen force behind the Three Saints, the silent matron who governs their actions and embodies the greater, unknowable forces of the universe. To the Tieflings, she is not a historical figure but an allegorical presence, a symbol of grief, vengeance, and protection. Her myth speaks of a mother who lost everything but used her sorrow to forge strength, ensuring her children’s survival at any cost. In many ways, the Red Widow is the spiritual heart of the faith, her influence lingering in the flicker of every fire and the shadow of every shrine. While most Tieflings see her as a representation of cosmic balance, those who walk the darker paths of Tiefling society—such as members of the Tiefling mafia—interpret her more literally, as a patron of vengeance and the ruthless protection of their own.

The practice of the Three Saints religion is woven seamlessly into the daily lives of its followers. Every morning, families light a small flame at their hearth to honor the Saints and ask for their blessings. Seasonal rituals mark the turning of the year, from the lighting of winter fires to ensure warmth and survival, to the spring offerings of wildflowers and seeds to honor renewal and growth. Communal ceremonies, such as the lighting of watchfires in the vaults or the sharing of stories around festival bonfires, keep the teachings of the Saints alive and pass them on to the younger generation.

Despite its deeply symbolic nature, the Three Saints religion is practical at its core. It provides a moral framework and a shared identity for the Tieflings, guiding them through the complexities of their lives in Areeott. The Saints remind them to balance strength with compassion, to temper ambition with foresight, and to honor both the fire that burns within them and the land that sustains them. The faith is not prescriptive but reflective, encouraging each individual to interpret the Saints’ teachings in their own way and apply them to their unique circumstances.

For the Tieflings of Areeott, the Three Saints folk religion is more than a set of beliefs—it is a living tradition, a connection to their past, and a guide to their future. It is the fire that warms them in the coldest nights, the shadow that shelters them in times of fear, and the balance that allows them to thrive in a world that is both harsh and beautiful. Through the Saints, the Tieflings remember who they are, where they came from, and the community that sustains them. Through the Red Widow, they remember that even in loss, there is strength, and even in shadow, there is light.

Granna Anakis

Granna Matari

Granna Voss

The Red Widow

In the shadowed corridors of the Tiefling mafia, one name is never spoken aloud without weight: the Red Widow. To the devout, she is an allegory—a figure tied to the deeper, unseen forces of the Three Saints faith. To the underworld, she is something more—a patron of survival, loyalty, and the brutal justice that defines the mafia’s code.

The Red Widow is not depicted in art, not enshrined in icons, and not openly worshipped. Instead, she exists in the empty spaces between the Saints, her presence implied in every oath, every deal, and every act of vengeance carried out in the name of loyalty. She is the fire that tempers and the shadow that protects, a figure both feared and revered for the lessons she represents. For the Tiefling mafia, the Red Widow is not just a myth—she is a reminder that their bond to one another is forged in fire, and betrayal burns hotter than anything.

Her name is invoked in whispers during initiation rituals, when the burning of a saint card serves as a symbolic pledge of loyalty. The act is not merely symbolic—it is a covenant, a vow made under the watchful eyes of those who have sworn the same. To break faith with the family is not just to dishonor the living but to court the wrath of the Widow herself. This belief pervades the mafia’s culture, where loyalty is paramount and those who stray face consequences as fiery and final as the myth itself.

Within the Three Saints faith, the Red Widow is considered a hidden force behind the virtues embodied by the Saints. Granna Anakis speaks to justice, Granna Matari to compassion, and Granna Voss to pragmatism—but the Widow is the balance that binds these virtues together when no other force can. She is invoked not in prayer but in action, her name a reminder of what must be done when faith and morality falter. In the underworld, this manifests as an unspoken understanding: the end will justify the means, so long as it serves the family.

Her image is never depicted—not in shrines, not in stories, not even in secret. To attempt to render her likeness is considered an act of arrogance, a hubris that no Tiefling dares to court. Instead, her presence is acknowledged through symbols: the faint curl of smoke from a flame, the crimson threads woven into the lapels of a coat, or the solitary ember glowing in the dark. These quiet reminders are enough to keep her influence alive, a presence felt rather than seen.

For the Tiefling mafia, the Red Widow is more than an abstract idea—she is a cultural foundation, the unyielding force that defines their way of life. She is the matron of shadow and fire, a figure who demands loyalty, respect, and the courage to do what others cannot. In her name, they survive, they thrive, and they enforce their will in a world that would see them burned. To the devout, the Red Widow is a force of faith. To the mafia, she is something far more visceral: the unseen hand behind every oath, every strike, and every sacrifice made in the family’s name.