Khata is the Antrippan Goddess of Liberty and Retribution. Her faith is good-aligned.

A thief tries to make off with a patron's coin pouch in a tavern. Suddenly, a web shoots across the tavern, holding him in place. A woman approaches him, and through an exchange involving some questionable tactics retrieves the money pouch. The thief is expelled from the tavern, and the woman disappears back into the shadows.

This is the domain of Khata. Justice by any means necessary. Retribution for the innocent. Liberation of the oppressed. She is worshipped in dark alleyways, in scraped together chapels and temples where those who are desperate come for salvation.

Those who devote themselves to Khata deliver that salvation. Her clergy are often found walking solitary paths. It is a thin line to walk, and a hard journey to undertake. The reward, however, is the good of all people.

Various legends circulate regarding the origin of the Goddess Khata. Earliest inscriptions found on crumbling stele stones and ruined parchments seem to indicate She was once a mortal skulk, subjected to the cruelest of violation by a slave master. Decades She endured until one day, She saw a chance to escape. She fled to the Grand Temple complex at Ashlish, hoping to gain an audience in the Court of Justice located there.

As She awaited Her turn, Her master's hired mercenaries found Her and slew Her for Her crimes. In death Her soul cried so loudly for justice that it attracted the attention of Ashia, the Great Raven, who granted Her immortality and healed the wounds She had endured by renewing Her body into a shapeshifter. She retains a scar across Her left eye as a reminder of all She endured, and it fuels the causes that She champions.

In the centuries between this myth and the sundering of the pantheon, prayers to Khata could be heard in the Slave Trading Post and whispered on the lips of the abused. She was so revered that shrines to Her emerged anywhere safe shelter was sought.

But so secret was this network of safety that when the sundering created the Antrippa Pantheon, Khata was left out. Her cult persisted through this silence, especially as the root of Goddess Matreya spread Fear and Control throughout Antrippa. Lest someone in trouble be punished, the protection of Khata was invoked in hushed whispers, throughout servants' quarters and in cleaning closets.

When the Goddess Yalelia was imprisoned, and the veil between the Pantheons of Lensmoor and Antrippa pierced, a burst of energy flooded through the heavens. In this surge, Khata found Herself suddenly lifted into importance. No longer were Her faithful left to linger in eternal persecution. Goddess Khata emerged into the Antrippan Pantheon as a voice for the voiceless, a liberator of the oppressed and a champion of victims everywhere who do not have the strength to fight for themselves.

Khata is not the sort of deity who minces words or attempts flowery epithets. She prefers to accomplish Her goals quickly and disappear. Khata does not aspire to purity, simply good deeds. Therefore, She does not eschew the use of necromancy if the end goal is good-hearted.

Khata values intent over method. She is often at odds with other deities who walk a golden path because of this. She is a fairly solitary Goddess, and prefers it that way.