Divine Uprising



Divine Uprising was an event in SMITE made to celebrate the introduction of 3 new pantheons to the game (Slavic, Voodoo and Polynesian) with gods for each one. This event ran between May 15 and October 29, 2018.

Additional information can be found here: Divine Uprising promo site.

Welcome to the Divine Uprising!
During this event you will meet Gods and discover Items from newly encountered Pantheons. These new Pantheons are different in every way, coming from the rolling hills of Eastern Europe, and the bayous of New Orleans, to the blossoming hibiscuses of Hawaii.

Exclusive Items
Every 3 updates a new Pantheon Chapter will be revealed along with new items and skins, which will all be in 1 Pantheon Chest. There will be 3 Pantheon chests in total as we have 3 new Pantheons!

Unlock 9 exclusive items from each Pantheon chest to unlock that Pantheon's exclusive skin. Unlocking all 27 Items before the end of the event will grant you the limited Bellona Divine Dragon skin. Items can also be directly purchased for a higher price in the skin store or bundle store.

Pantheon Chests
Purchasing your first chest roll of each Pantheon will grant you a 50% off coupon for the next roll of that specific Pantheon chest. There will be 3 updates for each Pantheon, 9 in total for the whole event. Each Pantheon chest roll will grant a choice between three items.

Event Quests
3 Quests are available for the beginning of each Pantheon. These will be automatically assigned to you as you start the event. Completing all 3 quests will grant you 100 gems. One Pantheon Chapter will grant you 300 gems upon completition of all 9 quests and you can claim 900 gems in total across the whole event.

Divine Uprising Cosmetic Items
These are the items/bundles that are available during the event. Items are bound to pantheon themed chests. Upon rolling the chest, the player can choose one out of three items randomly selected from the pantheon's list. The chests start with only 3 items, with more being gradually added per updated up to 9. Each roll from the latest chest released costs 300 Gems, while older chests cost 400  to roll. Rolling for the first time also grants a 50% OFF coupon for the next roll. Additionally, god skins can be directly purchased for 750 without having to roll the chests.

These are the chests currently available:
 * TreasureRoll Slavic.png Slavic Chest
 * TreasureRoll Voodoo.png Voodoo Chest
 * TreasureRoll Polynesian.png Polynesian Chest

Unlocks
Slavic Pantheon=


 * -|Voodoo Pantheon=


 * -|Polynesian Pantheon=

List of quests
Complete quests to earn rewards through the event's duration. All quest chains are available at once. Quests must be completed in order before the next one in the chain is unlocked.

Slavic quests=
 * -|Voodoo quests=
 * -|Polynesian quests=

Prologue
The world has changed.

Zeus, almighty father of the Pantheon of Olympus, is dead. No longer content with the devotion of her countless worshippers, Hel has set into motion a series of events that will either deliver her the world, or see it destroyed. In her lust for power, she has become the architect of a new war that will cause pantheon to battle pantheon, brother to turn against sister, and divine blood to spill as never before. Hel had balanced the mortal realm on a knife's edge. In his own lust for power, Hades would push it over. For the sins of the gods, all would be cast into ruin.

Untold destruction wracks mankind, and calamity reigns over all. The very earth itself rebels, shattered in seismic upheaval and burnt to ash by firestorms that span entire continents. Oceans swallow the land, dragging countless souls to their blackest depths, or boil away until nothing remains but desiccated, lifeless deserts. The denizens of the Underworld rise, a vast incursion of the damned as the lands of the living and the dead blur together into a single unholy perdition. Mortals cry out to the heavens, begging for deliverance from the fate their patrons have wrought for them. Bellona, the goddess of war, will hear their call to test her might and drive back the darkness. And she will answer.

The old games between the pantheons are over. Bitter rivalries and lifelong feuds are forgotten as the wellspring of the gods' power now faces extinction. New gods will rise, and empires will fall. Great armies will clash in wars beyond imagining. The gods will bleed, and the fate of all will be decided.

The age of Ragnarok has begun.

Shadow and Flame
In the heart of Ragnarok's storm, the goddess draws her blade against the Lord of Darkness. He stands opposite her in the chaos, cold and malicious. Bat-like wings stretch from his back, their leathery flesh bleeding black fire.

As she leaps to strike, the goddess realizes that she does not know why they are fighting. Is his emergence, brought about by this apocalypse, a threat only she can confront? Is he a mountain to her, a towering peak crying out to be scaled? To be conquered? In truth it doesn't matter. She is in her element, falling into the familiar rhythm that has never failed to make her heart sing.

She is Bellona, and she is making war.

Her sword falls, a perfect cut, but the target ceases to be. Laughter hits her back like ice and Bellona spins to face him. His form shivers, becoming three. The trio flits around the goddess of war, laughing as they sway beyond her blade.

Rage warps Bellona's weapon into liquid brass, shifting until it becomes her hammer. She leaves craters in the earth with every strike, but she cannot touch him.

The Lord of Darkness manifests shards of black crystal, dark as the void between stars. They fly from his hands, singing as they strike her. Every blow they land against Bellona's shield plunges her flesh to a cold beyond ice.

He releases a long, shuddering breath. ‘Oh, how I have waited to do that. Such a good servant you are, so eager to oblige me.’

The words stop Bellona cold. Her own leave her lips as a snarl. ‘I serve no one.’

‘No?’ he offers a black-fanged grin. ‘Pity the puppet, so blind she cannot even see her strings.’

‘You lie.’

He lifts a hand, and the earth splinters. The dead spill up from the cracks, staring up from behind tarnished visors. Bellona recognizes every face, and the sigil stitched upon the tattered banners they carry.

It is hers.

‘Are you not evil's agent, goddess of war, for sowing such conflict? Spurning the mortal realm to ever-greater violence as you bathed the earth with their blood? You never cared why the iron reaped and the threads were cut. You never stopped to think who it is you truly serve.’

A new shard manifests from out of the Lord of Darkness. The smile widens as he lets it fly, faster than Bellona can track.

‘You serve Chernobog.’

In the last moment she raises her weapon. Hammer reforms into sword. Obsidian meets steel.

And obsidian shatters. Chips of darkness spin from the edge of Bellona's sword, clattering against her warplate before bleeding away into smoke.

Chernobog pauses. ‘Interesting.’

With a flick of his wrist the other shards recall, melting back into him. He turns away, his great wings stretched wide.

‘Is that all?’ Bellona surges to her feet. ‘I'm not done with you.’

‘Oh little one,’ Chernobog laughs, smiling with too many teeth. ‘I am not done with anything.’

Chernobog vanishes with those words, away to visit unknown horror upon the world whose ruin has set him free. Bellona reverses my blade, burying it into the ground to support herself as she sinks to one knee.

Alone, Bellona watches Ragnarok devour everything. The souls of the dead cry out as the underworld blurs into that of the living. All that remains with the goddess of war are questions, the howling dead, and the echo of dark laughter.

Path of the Dead
Nightfall had descended when Bellona came across the first grave.

A sword stood upright in freshly churned earth, surrounded by its kindred that filled the spaces between crumbling headstones. The light of distant firestorms glinted from their notched blades, and a dry wind sent clinking the small talismans that marked the name of every warrior now beneath the earth.

These were soldiers' graves, dug and made with as much reverence as swiftness would allow. They crowded a graveyard that had stood there for centuries, a field of silence and stone. Small objects lay where the blades met the ground. Food, cloth, whatever the living could spare. Offerings to the gods of the dead, to pay their brothers' passage in their journey beyond life.

A soft hiss and softer touch against her foot alerted Bellona to the serpent slithering across the ground. She reversed her blade, ready to drive its tip down through the creature's skull, when the slim haft of a cane appeared beneath her chin.

‘Ah-ah,’ a voice tutted, low and cultured in a way that reminded Bellona of warm honey. ‘He’d prefer you didn't do that.’

Bellona rested her own blade against the speaker's chest, then aimed it lower.

‘Pull that back before I take more than the arm holding it.’

Laughter greeted her threat from the face of a man's grinning skull. The snake spiralled up a thin body, rising to hang about his neck in the shadow of a stovepipe hat. ‘War gods, always so impolite.’

Bellona spun her blade away and faced him. ‘You are Baron Samedi. Death god. Master of souls between the lands of living and dead.’

‘You lie.’

The skull grinned impossibly wider. ‘Flattery, my dear, will get you everywhere.’

‘I come to you for aid,’ Bellona spread her arms. ‘Ragnarok threatens all, living and dead, and must be stopped.’

Baron matched her gesture theatrically. ‘Ah, since I have so little to occupy me here? I'm quite aware of this apocalypse, dear. Spirits I've led to peace are suddenly not so peaceful, and the dead refuse to lay still.’

‘Then help me stop it.’

Baron studied her for a moment. ‘Well, you want something from me,’ he leaned in close. ‘I want something in return.’

Bellona's glare was all the answer he would get.

‘Hmm,’ Baron reconsidered. ‘Maybe something else, then.’

They strode amongst the graves together. ‘So many new dead,’ said Baron, hopping atop the headstones and dancing between them with an easy flourish. ‘They all need guidance, a path to rest.’

He flipped over Bellona, stopping before one of the soldier's graves. ‘Help me with this one.’

Bellona frowned. ‘Why this one?’

‘Why?’ Baron laughed. ‘Because this one is screaming your name.’

Contact with the newly dead man flooded Bellona's senses with his dying moment: the clash of shields, shattering spears, cries of anger and pain, the sour reek of phobos. His spirit emerged from the soil, a reflection of the man he had once been, as though viewed through a tarnished mirror.

‘Antioch,’ said Bellona, to the man that had once been her champion.

Goddess... the soul writhed. Where are you? I... I can't find my sword.

‘You don't need it,’ Bellona crouched beside the grave as Baron looked on with a grin. Antioch's spirit shivered, contorting in the agony of the blow that had killed him.

Goddess... the pain, I-I can't breathe—

‘Silence!’ Bellona's voice was steel. ‘You are a champion of the war goddess, comport yourself as such! Linger not in your pain like some defeated beast. Take your mind to your triumphs, Antioch. The siege of Nolus. Shattering the line at Vassyndri Pass. Go there, your goddess commands it.’

The wraith ceased in its thrashing. The images in Bellona's mind became those of a conquering warrior, rallying his kin in the shield wall, reaping lives with spear and sword, raising his banner over a vanquished foe. Agony drained from Antioch, replaced with golden warmth.

‘Rest within your triumph, my warrior. Revel in your glory, and know peace.’

‘Antioch sank back beneath the earth, a soft sigh echoing behind Bellona's eyes as she rose. ‘His journey has reached its end.’

‘Nothing ever ends, war-goddess,’ chuckled Baron Samedi. ‘There is an ocean of souls waiting for me, and they won't see to themselves. But don't you fret; you'll find me at your side, when the time comes. Until then, you can do something for me.’

‘Name it.’

The skull flashed his grin once more, producing a bottle and thumbing the cork into the air with a soft pop. ‘Have a drink with me and quit being so serious all the time. The way you're carrying on, you'd think it's the end of the world.’

Into the Earth
For so long, cataclysm had swallowed the sky over Bellona's head, and shook the ground to splinters beneath her feet. The war goddess' journey had taken her across darkness and light, life and death, from upheaval to upheaval as she rallied whoever she could to turn back what had been unleashed. Now she stood at the precipice, where the fate of all would be determined.

Here and now, either all creation or Ragnarok would be ended.

Brought low against the blasted earth that had been their battlefield, Hades roared in Bellona's grip, broken and defeated. Rage mixed with pain in his cry, as something tore the imbued power of Ragnarok from his being in a stream of fiery quicksilver.

No, thought Bellona, looking up from Hades. Not something. Someone.

Bellona had not been quick to trust the fire goddess. Nearly being burned to cinders upon meeting had not been the most promising of introductions. But Bellona knew they lived in an age of divine war, and that trust had to be earned. Once Pele had seen their shared purpose, in turning back the tide of Ragnarok and preserving creation, she turned her power to that end.

Pele was screaming. The molten essence of her being was burning like a star fallen from the heavens as she drew Ragnarok from across the earth. The ground cratered around her, stretching into the vast caldera that would swallow the energy of the apocalypse and bind it within the core of the world.

“Blind.”

Bellona looked away from Pele, just now realizing that Hades had ceased his cry.

“What?”

“You who look on me and see a monster,” Hades snarled between clenched teeth.

“Blind. Too blind to see it, the world I was trying to create. No more life, no more death. Just existence, all of us together and everlasting. No more war for you, to sow your misery and blood.” He laughed, a pained gasp of breath, and stared up at her in accusation. “What would you even be?”

“Do not distract me!” Pele hissed. Furnace heat bled from her skin in radiating mandalas of haze. Ragnarok had been gathered in all its horrible grandeur, a crashing tempest of malignant light that swirled over the caldera. Pele seized hold of the storm of ruin, hurling it down into the ground.

A fissure split open in a deafening crash of sheering bedrock. The wound in the world yawned wider, drawing Ragnarok into the burning depths that smouldered at its bottom. Bellona could hear the howling of the undead, the wails of the slaughtered, the laughter of dark gods, all scraped from the skies and cast down into it.

And then, it was gone. Bellona released the breath she had not realized she was holding, tasting clean, fresh air for the first time since the catastrophe began.

“It is done,” Pele panted, struggling to stay on her feet. Bellona rushed to her side, supporting her with her weight. The two goddesses looked down at the last vestiges of dark energy crawling across the sealing fissure as they extinguished.

“Ragnarok,” said Bellona, “is over.”

“Is it?” asked Hades from behind them, still on his knees. He gathered up a handful of ashen ground, letting it fall between his fingers. “You believe that you can simply stuff the power I unleashed down into the earth, and nothing will come of it?”

Bellona and Pele looked back at the lord of the underworld, and a cold sensation danced up the spine of the war goddess after seeing his smile.

“You truly believe that all of this is finished?”