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ColorForge: Prism of Souls Event was an event in SMITE. It began on June 13, 2023 and ended on August 29, 2023.

It features skins for the following gods: Fenrir, Ra, Cthulhu and Kukulkan.

Description[ | ]

Welcome to the ColorForge Event![ | ]

Choose your own skin color pattern with these NEW Skins! Purchase ColorForge Skins directly or try rolling for them in the ColorForge Bonus Chest. Each ColorForge Skin will come with its own set of colors! Color Patterns are new cosmetic items and can only be equipped on ColorForge Skins! On initial release the bundles will cost 900 Gems Gems.

There are multiple ways to collect ColorForge skins! Purchasing 2 or more ColorForge Skins will grant you another pattern set and purchasing all will grant you a ColorForge bundle! Check your achievements page and the Quest Tab to see what kind of color patterns you can quest for!

The ColorForge event has a "Buy All" option which provides a discount of 16% for a total of 2500 Gems Gems.

Individually made purchases will discount the "Buy All" option cost by the value of the previously purchased skin equal to 900 Gems Gems per previously purchased bundle.

Colorforge Cosmetic Items[ | ]

These are the items that are available during the event. Each bundle costs 1500 Gems Gems to unlock.

Unlockable[ | ]

Bundles[ | ]

Spicy Ra-Men
Icon Type Release Date Description
T Ra SpicyRa-Men Icon God Skin June 13, 2023 An exclusive skin for Ra. It has custom animations and ability effects, and custom voicelines.


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Ra-Men Noodles
Icon Type Release Date Description
JumpStamp Ra-MenNoodles Jump Stamp June 13, 2023 An exclusive jump stamp.


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Angel of Chaos
Icon Type Release Date Description
T Cthulhu AngelOfChaos Icon God Skin June 13, 2023 An exclusive skin for Cthulhu. It has custom animations and ability effects, and custom voicelines.


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Prism of Souls
Icon Type Release Date Description
LoadingFrame PrismOfSouls Loading Frame June 13, 2023 An exclusive loading frame.


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Shadow Serpent
Icon Type Release Date Description
T Kukulkan ShadowSerpent Icon God Skin July 11, 2023 An exclusive skin for Kukulkan. It has custom animations and ability effects, and custom voicelines.


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Prism of Souls
Icon Type Release Date Description
File:MusicTheme PrismOfSouls.png Music Theme June 13, 2023 An exclusive music theme.


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Collection Reward[ | ]

Alpha Pack
Icon Type Release Date Description
T Fenrir AlphaPack Icon God Skin June 13, 2023 An Unlimited skin for Fenrir. It has custom animations and ability effects, and custom voicelines. Also comes with a Jump Stamp and a Recall Skin.


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Quests[ | ]

Play 3 games each week to earn ColorForge Chests! If you miss completing the quest in a week, you will miss the reward. Players will have to return to the quest page to earn rewards, including the free Little Charmer Cupid Skin!

Free Quest Reward[ | ]

Little Charmer
Icon Type Release Date Description
T Cupid LittleCharmer Icon God Skin June 13, 2023 An Exclusive skin for Cupid. It has custom animations and ability effects, and custom voicelines


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Lore[ | ]

Chapter 1: Ambush at Olympia[ | ]

Olympia burned.

Surtr strode through the Altis, leaving fire in his wake. Harpies swooped overhead, cackling in delight at the carnage. He heard the screams of the group of mortals seeking sanctuary in the temple of Zeus, and smiled. "Do you think he can hear them?" he asked, glancing at his companion.

Arachne frowned. "If he were listening, he would be here already. Like it or not, he is elsewhere. searching for you. For us."

"A shame," Surtr said. "I should have liked to have seen his face, as I bring his temple down atop his worshippers." He looked down at Arachne again. "You do not seem pleased. Is this not what you hoped it would be?"

Arachne stopped and rose to her full height - not equal to his own, but close enough to meet his eye. "What I hoped was that you would make this place a message to the goods, not indulge petty vandalism." She gestured to where the several satyrs were attempting to topple the great altar of Zeus without much success.

She and Surtr watched them for a moment, until Arachne huffed impatiently and cast a web, snaring the altar. She pulled it over with barely a flick of her wrist. Surtr smiled. Despite her words, he knew that Arachne understood. It was not enough to simply destroy the city and the temple. Every altar would be toppled, every fane desecrated. The inhabitants would be driven into the wilderness, and monsters would run riot in the streets. And after Olympia, he would do the same to the rest of Greece, the lands of the Norse, the Egyptians...he would burn them all.

Only then would the gods understand.

"I do not understand why you sent the furies away," she said, softly. "We could have used them here."

"I required messengers who were of sufficient status. Your spiders, while numerous, are not the most respectable of creatures."

Arachne was silent for a moment. "Do you think she will listen to them?"

Surtr grunted. "There is no telling, with Tiamat. She might listen. She might take offense. But she is the mother of monsters, and we are all her children in one way or another. To have her with us would be a boon."

"And if she refuses?"

Surtr said nothing. He heard Martichoras roar and turned towards the temple. The Manticore king stalked up the steps towards a phalanx of mortal spearmen, a hungry look on his face. The spearman cowered back as Martichoras drew near, drool dripping from his fanged maw.

Surtr strode to the bottom of the steps. "Do not play with them, Martichoras. Devour them and be done with it," he said. Martichoras glanced at him.

"I thought this was supposed to be fun," he growled.

"War is rarely fun," Surtr said, as he began to climb the steps. His feet left black scorch marks on the marble, marking his ascent. He reached the landing and paused. The temple doors were shut, but that wouldn't be much of an obstacle. "It is an ugly thing we do here, and a necessary one," he went on. "We do not do this for our own amusement."

"Could have fooled me," an unfamiliar voice interjected. Surtr turned - and interposed his sword to intercept the heavy hook that had been hurling towards his head. The hook, hauled by a rope shot back into the waiting grip of its wielder.

"Maui," Arachne hissed.

"The one and only," Maui said, with a slight bow. He stood at the entrance to the Altis, his hook now balanced on his shoulder. He looked utterly at ease, surrounded as he was by satyrs and harpies. "I' ask what Zeus did to deserve this, but we all know the answer to that. So, I'll suffice by asking you to spare the lives of his worshippers. They are innocent of the crimes of the gods."

"You admit it, then?" Surtr asked.

"Admit it? I agree with you. What was done to you was shameful, even by our standards. Had I known, I might have freed you myself," Maui looked around. "Then again, maybe not."

Surtr chuckled. "You are brave. That is good. Cowardly enemies are not worth the effort to dispose of them."

Maui paused/ "We don't have to be enemies, you know."

Surtr cocked his head. "Have you come to join us, then?"

Maui took in the harpies crouched on the nearby pillars and rooftops, and the satyrs lurking in the sacred groves, and shook his head. "Somehow, I do not think I am the sort of warrior you are looking for..."

"If you are not with me, you are against me," Surtr rumbled. Maui's answer wasn't a surprise; though his conciliatory tone was unexpected. Arachne's spies had warned them that Maui and Ix Chel were in the region. It had not been a stretch to imagine that they might attempt to intervene, given their purpose. Indeed, Surtr had hoped they would attempt to interfere. What better way to show his disdain for the gods than to defeat those they'd tasked with his capture? "Martichoras, him what our opponents can expect."

Martichoras hurled himself skywards with a joyous roar. Arachne, in contract, made no sound at all as she scuttled towards Maui. To his credit, the god did not flinch. Instead, he met their charge with a toss of his hook. The weapon caught the top of a pillar and, with a flex of his shoulders, Maui brought the marble column between himself and Arachne, forcing her to dodge aside as struck the ground with a crash.

Chapter 2: The Ferryman[ | ]

Light pierced the darkness. Two shadows fell, plummeting to the rocky ground below. They landed with a thunderous crash, scattering the souls of the dead. The latter hesitated, then drew close to the crater where the newcomers now lay insensate.

Charon saw it all from his boat. The light – the fall – the impact. He sighed and set his oar into the water. Such an event could only mean one thing. A god had been sent to the underworld. A rare occurrence, but not unheard of. Or it had been.

Recently, it had become more common. No less than five divine spirits had fallen into the underworld only a few weeks ago. Anubis and the others had been most put out, and had not been pleasant company for the brief span that he’d entertained them.

Not that he blamed them. Gods could not perish, as mortals did. Instead, they were sent to the underworld for a time, until the prayers of their worshippers drew them back to the world of the living once more. Unless something prevented them from leaving, of course.

Charon didn’t approve of such delays, even when they were the doing of his queen. Persephone had since seen the error of her ways in delaying the return of Zeus, Anhur and the others so many cycles ago, but the damage had been done…and then undone.

Charon had endured it all, as stoically as possible. He’d watched the gods, led by Olorun, invade the underworld, and made no attempt to interfere, though it pained him to do so. He’d borne witness to Hades drawing in the power of Ragnarok for himself, and then he and Persephone sealing the gates of the underworld against the threat of Cthulhu. Later still, he’d borne witness to his queen’s overtures to Tiamat. However much the wheel turned and the world changed, Charon endured it; he remained himself, unchanged and unchanging. He had always been as he was, and would always be so, even unto the ending of all things.

He reached the shore a few moments later, the prow of his craft scraping across the rocks. He stepped out, and used his oar to gently push aside the gathered souls. “One side, one side,” he said, with as much gentleness as he could muster. “Patience, please. Your turn will come.” Then, more firmly. “Now step aside, in the name of Hades.” The crowd of souls swiftly dispersed, and he reached the edge of the crater. It wasn’t as deep as some; the impact of Zeus’ fall had nearly changed the course of the Styx. But it was big enough to make him pause.

Two forms lay within. As Charon watched, one groaned and sat up. “Hello Maui,” Charon said, in greeting. He knew all the gods by name, even if they had never met before. Maui blinked and looked up at Charon, startled. Frightened, perhaps. Charon knew his appearance could be unsettling, even to a god.

“Charon – what…?”

“A better question would be where,” Charon said.

“The underworld,” Ix Chel said, as she made to stand. Charon gallantly offered her his arm, and, after a moment’s hesitation, she accepted it.

“Yes. If you would step this way…?” Charon indicated his craft. “I have a schedule to keep, and dead mortals are somehow even more impatient than the living ones.”

Ix Chel pulled away from him. “We are…?” she began, as if the very idea were inconceivable. Charon nodded politely.

“Dead? Deceased? Departed? All of the above, I fear. But only temporarily, I assure you. Unlike mortals, gods rarely stay down here for long. Soon enough, you’ll be back upstairs. For now, however, I must insist that you come aboard. The others are getting restless.” Charon indicated the mortal souls that crowded the shore. It took the dead a long time to notice when something was going on, but when they did, they could become…troublesome. He would hate to have to discipline them.

“We do not have time for this,” Ix Chel insisted. “We must go back immediately.”

“You cannot,” Charon said, simply. He hoped he sounded apologetic. From the look on her face, however, he suspected he hadn’t quite managed it. Thankfully, Maui quickly stepped in.

“What she means is, there is great threat is loose in the world above…” he began.

“Surtr,” Charon interjected. “Many of the souls I have ferried of late have spoken that name. He is free, then?”

“Yes,” Maui said. He looked at his hands. “Are we really…?”

“I am afraid so,” Charon said. “Thankfully, it is a temporary affliction for gods. As I said, in time, you will be allowed to return to the living world.”

“When?” Ix Chel demanded.

“When it is time,” Charon said, looking at her. She frowned, clearly unhappy with that answer. Charon met her gaze squarely, and did not flinch from her anger. He was used to it. Few souls were satisfied with their ending; at best, most were resigned. A few were even relieved. But gods were a different matter. They rarely approached their time in the underworld with anything approaching resignation or relief. Instead, they raged at him or attempted to bargain with him. As if he were responsible for their fate, and not merely a guide. He often had to show them the error of their ways, usually by administering a few firm thwacks with his oar.

“That…might be too late,” Maui said. “Surtr intends to make war on the gods.”

“Which ones?” Charon asked.

“All of them.”

Charon hesitated. That sounded bad. He forced the thought aside. Bad or not, it was no concern of his. He had his duties and he would see them through. “That is not my concern,” he said.

“Your master might feel different,” Maui said, quickly. “Surely Hades is aware of the danger the pantheons face…”

“If he does, he has not mentioned it to me,” Charon said, affronted by the very idea. It would not be proper for a psychopomp, however powerful, to question the king of the underworld. There was a such thing as decorum, even in the underworld. Especially in the underworld.

A ripple of agitation ran through the souls on the shore. Something new had attracted their attention. Charon heard the rustle of wings and looked up to the vaulted, cavernous spaces above the river. The harpies had been disturbed. Something was among them.

As Charon watched, five winged shapes descended. Not harpies, these. Something much worse. “They followed us,” Maui said, grimly.

“The Furies,” Charon murmured, watched the newcomers spiral down towards the shore. He’d never had the misfortune to encounter the creatures before, as they inflicted their torments almost exclusively on the living. “They should not be here,” he said in disapproval.

“Try telling them that,” Maui said. He and Ix Chel braced themselves as the Furies swooped overhead. The creatures loosed blood-curdling cries as they dropped to the ground, their robes swirling. One, the largest of the quintet, her features hidden behind a golden mask, stepped forward and extended a cruel blade in Maui and Ix Chel’s direction.

“You will give them to us,” the Gold Fury hissed, wings spread. “They are our prey, and we will have them, Ferryman.”

Charon’s gaze flickered in annoyance. The creature’s tone was disrespectful. Mighty though the Furies were, they were not so powerful as to dictate orders to him. “They are under my protection, as is every soul bound for the far shore,” he said. “You know this.”

“Things have changed. The old order is undone. We hunt where we will. Even here.” The Fury studied him warily. They knew his power, and respected it, as well they should. “We do not have to be enemies, Ferryman. You have never opposed us before. Do not start now.”

Charon paused, as if to consider this. Then he gave a hollow laugh. “I have never opposed you because you have never been so foolish as to test my patience in matters related to the dead.” He straightened to his full, impressive height. “The living are your prey, and you are welcome to them. But down here is where your authority ends. So go back and consider yourselves lucky that I bear you no particular malice.”

The Gold Fury shrieked in anger and beat the air with her wings. At her cry, the others sprang into the air. Charon watched them ascend, then glanced at Maui and Ix Chel. “Get aboard my boat. Now.”

“But –” Maui began.

“The boat,” Charon said, firmly. Maui stepped back, clearly startled by power in Charon’s voice. He turned back to the Furies. “Neither of you is in any condition to help me. You will be safe aboard the boat. Go.” He swung his oar out, conjuring a shimmering, spectral radiance. “You Furies, however, are anything but safe. The Styx is my territory and you are not welcome here. Depart, or learn why even the dead fear the Ferryman.” He jabbed his oar towards the Furies, unleashing the energies coalescing about its head. The Furies dodged the blast, as he’d expected. It had been more in the way of warning, really. He’d hoped they’d realize the error of their ways, and depart without further violence.

Instead, the Furies swooped and spun overhead, eerily silent now. They were clearly surprised by the power of his attack. Not that it would stop them. One darted down towards him, blade in hand. Charon narrowly avoided the blow and swung his oar, cracking the Fury in the face, knocking her sprawling. The others landed and charged to meet him.

He blocked a blow with his oar, and was forced back a step as the Gold Fury strained against him, her blade sunk deep into the haft of his oar, her eyes wild behind her mask. He glimpsed the others circling him, closing in on all sides. “You should have stayed out of this, Ferryman,” the Gold Fury hissed. “We would have left you to continue your thankless task undisturbed. But now, we will make an example of you. None may escape the wrath of monsters – not even the dead!”

The other Furies came for him then, blades glinting in the dim radiance of the Styx. Charon shoved the Gold Fury back and slammed his oar down, driving it down into the earth. Black water spurted around it, as he drew a portion of the Styx up and swept it out in a wide arc around him. The Furies were washed backwards as the river raged about him. He felt something bump against his back and turned to see the prow of his boat. Maui extended a hand. “A neat trick, Ferryman. But I don’t think it’s going to slow them down for long. They are very determined to have our skins.”

Charon hesitated for a moment, then caught Maui’s hand and allowed the god to help him onto the boat. “You are correct. We must depart.” The Furies were already recovering, flapping their wings to dry them, and wringing out their sodden robes as they started towards the boat. The Gold Fury met his gaze and hissed loudly.

“Five to three isn’t the best odds,” Maui said. “They’ll be on us before we get very far.” At his words, Charon blinked and looked around at the souls milling about in the shallows uncertainly. The Furies were ignoring them; likely they considered them no threat. That wouldn’t do. One took the dead lightly at one’s own peril.

Charon struck the side of his boat with his oar, eliciting a hollow boom. The eyes of the dead turned towards him. “Free passage to any who occupies those overgrown harpies for a few moments,” Charon bellowed. The souls hesitated, but only for an instant.

In moments, the Furies were surrounded by a mob of the dead. Individually, the souls weren’t strong enough to accomplish much, but they had numbers on their side and a target to vent their myriad frustrations on. The Furies shrieked as they tried to escape into the air, but too late. They were pulled down one by one and buried beneath amorphous piles of spirits. Charon pushed the boat away from shore.

“That won’t occupy them for long,” he said, looking at his passengers. “But by the time they free themselves, we’ll be on our way.”

“Where to, exactly?” Maui asked, with a look at Ix Chel.

Charon hesitated. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t let something like this distract him from his duties. But the Furies had threatened the sanctity of the underworld. There could be only one response to that. Decision made, he set his oar into the water.

“To the House of Hades,” Charon said. “Lord Hades and Lady Persephone will wish to hear what you have to say.”