Names: Bering - Scyltheldish / Beringer - Cathringian / Berengo - Auresian
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Provinces: God of Gluttony, Madness and, Debauchery.
Common Symbol: A goblet of wine.
Followers: Humans.

Bering, known as Beringer among the Cathringians and as Berengo to the Auresians, is the Chaotic Neutral god of gluttony, madness, and debauchery. He is the unrestrained hunger of the world, the endless appetite that consumes food, drink, sensation, and sanity alike. Where other gods impose order or purpose, Bering revels in excess, believing that to deny desire is to deny life itself.

He is depicted as a bloated, ever-shifting figure, sometimes a laughing noble drenched in wine, other times a monstrous thing of grasping mouths and swollen limbs, never fully the same twice. His holy symbol is an overflowing goblet split down the middle, representing indulgence taken beyond reason. Among his followers, revellers, nobles, mercenaries, and the lost, he is both tempter and liberator, the voice that urges one more drink, one more feast, one more step beyond restraint.

Bering’s influence is found in feasts that turn to riots, celebrations that collapse into violence, and minds that slip from pleasure into madness. He speaks in laughter and song, in slurred promises and whispered dares, valuing experience over consequence and excess over control. His champions are the Feast-Taken, men and women who have abandoned moderation entirely, becoming vessels of his endless appetite.

In myth, Bering was once a lesser spirit of celebration, a patron of harvest feasts and shared joy among mortals. But as kingdoms grew rich and indulgence replaced gratitude, he changed. What was once abundance became excess, and what was once joy became obsession. It is said he devoured his own sacred table in a fit of hunger, consuming not just food but the very idea of “enough,” and from that moment, he became the god of insatiable desire. He now dwells within the Wild Feast, a shifting hall of endless revelry where tables never empty, cups never dry, and no soul leaves unchanged, if they leave at all.