Crom, the Skylord
Crom, the grim Lord of the Mound, lived atop a great mountain, sending forth dooms and death, caring little for humanity save to breathe into a man’s soul the power to strive and to slay his foes. Crom was the head of the Cimmerians’ pantheon of cruel gods, sending forth dooms and death from his seat on the great mountain of Mount Crom, or Ben Morgh, the holiest place in Cimmeria.
To pray to Crom was a pointless task, as it would only invoke his anger. Prayer was a sign of weakness, and Crom had little patience for the weak. Cimmerians prefered to not attract his attention, and if his name was muttered, it was invariably in the form of an oath or a curse. Nominally, every Cimmerian was a follower of Crom, but there was no established clergy devoted to him, he did not inspire any rituals, and the people bid him no sacrifice besides using the strength he granted them to take what they want from life and to cleave the skulls of their enemies.
The Cimmerians believed in a gloomy afterlife in which the souls of the dead would wander Crom’s grey realm aimlessly. It was useless to call upon Crom for divine aid “because he is a gloomy, savage god, and he hates weaklings.” Crom gave men and women the tools to find their own destinies; the rest was up to them.
Unlike many of the other known gods of the Hyborian Age, Crom did not send avatars into the world to meddle with the affairs of men. Some claim that the voice of Crom can be heard in the harsh winter winds of Cimmeria. Crom had few true followers and no priests. Crom did not care to share his divine power with mortals. It was enough that he breathed life into mortals when they were born.
Cimmerian religious ceremonies were minimal at best since prayers and supplications were useless, for it was better not to disturb this god lest he be resentful. Certainly ritual human sacrifice was never practiced—for no Cimmerian would passively allow himself to be served up on an altar.