So fragile is the line between sleep and death, the difference only waking with the dawn. In that darkness she reigns, as the sun sinks below the horizon, as stalkers hunt their prey, as shadows thicken to consume the light. She is primal in a way that even the mightiest of Gods must fear, for she is the Goddess of Night, Nox, and from her was born all the certainties of life.
Friendship and Love, Sunsets and Dreams, these are the Gods of inspiration. Nox is mother to them all. So too is she the mother of misfortune: Doom and Blame, Deceit, Strife, Woe and Death. Nox must love and protect all her children equally, as any mother would. They are her calling and her curse; her greatest pride and deepest shame. It is for her children she has now come to war.
Clothed not in black, but blackness, Nox is rarely seen. She glides between the light, just at the edge of vision. A specter. Even the God of Thunder is known to fear her, for Nox could steal his whispered breath and send him to a sleep eternal where dreams do not exist and no one ever wakes with the dawn.