Editing Festus

'''Lesser Deity'''

'''Symbol:''' Crossed scythes behind a single stalk of wheat (made larger than normal as to be more iconic) 

'''Alignment:''' Chaotic Neutral 

'''Portfolio:''' Farming, ranching, cultivation of all sorts. 

'''Worshipers:''' Farmers, ranchers, also those who venerate the cycles of nature as revealed in the fallow and fertile field. 

'''Cleric Alignments:''' CN, rarely CG or CE

'''Domains:''' Earth, Weather, Rejuvenation, Destruction 

'''Favored Weapon:''' Scythes 

'''Description:'''

It is said that the gods walk among us at times unseen. Festus is fond of this, perhaps more than many other gods. 

Appearing in his earthly avatar as a weather-beaten farmer, his straw hat and stained breeches a symbol of his profession, Festus often walks the land blessing or blighting crops as he sees fit. 

Able to control the weather in various manners, he is also lord over the earthly fields, making the soil nourished or starved by his will. Most of the time he is fair, but sometimes he wakes up on the wrong side of the divine bed and just decides to give a poor farmer hell for ... well ... the hell of it. The next year, though, he may triple-bless the same farmer every bit as handily. 

Festus is celebrated in great cyclical rituals which recur year after year. He often appears as a slightly younger man in the springtime and may emerge from the woodlands to lead revels in his honor. Said revels, with or without the god's arrival, are usually fun affairs, full of carnival-style revelry. His worshipers, strong believers in sympathetic magic, are wont to believe that the best way to make the land fertile is to practice ... er ... fertility themselves. The Rites of Festus are thus legendary for their openly ribald nature and their pleasurable activity – which includes ritual fighting, ritual feasting and ... well, something else that begins with “f,” all in a ritual context.. 

Every seven years, a young man from a particular village is chosen to be the avatar of Festus for the harvest festival. While in other years the festival is generally considered to be important and has a slightly more somber tone, the seven-year version is much more intense. 

In a regular year, the people give fairly solemn thanks for the food they have received and have a large meal recounting the trials of the previous year and hope for the next. 

In a seven-year ceremony, one young man is chosen to descend deep into a hidden temple complex in the hills near the particular village, carved long ago by ancient priests of the God. Practically every town, from small thorps to titanic cities, have a temple to Festus and an underground complex devoted to the seven-year rite. 

What happens in those darkened chambers are unknown, but the young men are never, ever seen again. While Festus is not a cruel god, he is not a kind one either. Still, debate rages. 

Some say that the young men transcend, becoming servants of their master in the Hidden Realms. Others say the young men are devoured in some hideous communion with their somewhat chaotic god. 

No one knows. There are stories of the shades of some of the young men haunting the inner depths of the underground temples of Festus. But the temple complexes are guarded year-round by priests of the god, and few dare venture there without permission.