Smite is free-to-play MOBA. Players control gods from myths and clash in a fantasy arena. Strategy, skill and teamwork are key. Defeat enemies and claim objectives. Get ready for some epic battles. It’s like a food fight, but with gods.

Meet the gods from Smite

Set, The Usurper

Set is chaos with a grin, the kind of god who shows up in a room and rearranges the furniture just to see what happens. He’s loud, theatrical, and a little bit smug — like he knows a joke no one else gets and will keep telling it until the world laughs or crumbles. Huge presence, loves stirring trouble but also, weirdly, collects small, neat stones? Don’t ask, it makes no sense, but that’s Set: contradictory, dramatic, and impossible to ignore.

Scylla, Horror Of The Sea

Scylla is monstrous and mesmerizing, part sea-witch, part “don’t swim here” sign, and somehow tragic too. She’s all snapping tentacles and hungry eyes but there’s this raw, lonely energy — like she was shoved into the role of terror and never asked if she wanted it. Fiercely territorial, surprisingly clever, and she’ll eat your ship but maybe feel bad about it afterward. Also, she hums to herself when she’s plotting, which is oddly human.

Cu Chulainn, Hound Of Ulster

Cu Chulainn is that unstoppable whirlwind of honor and reckless courage; you can practically hear a battle cry when his name’s mentioned. He’s intensely proud, a bit stubborn, and kind of reckless in the best possible way — leaps into danger with a grin and a terrible plan. Deep down there’s loyalty and a soft spot (for puppies? warriors? both), and he’ll defend his people like it’s the only thing that makes sense. He’s dramatic, noble, and also slightly exhausting to be around, in a proud-heroic way.

Bellona, Goddess Of War

Bellona is the personification of “let’s go fight” — armored, energetic, and with a laugh that sounds like metal. She loves the chaos of battle but also has a strategist’s brain; it’s not just bloodlust, it’s choreography. She’s protective of allies in a way that makes you trust her instantly, and she’ll critique your swordsmanship like a tough but affectionate coach. Occasionally she’s sentimental over banners and relics, which is both adorable and terrifying.

Tsukuyomi, God Of The Moon

Tsukuyomi is cool, quiet, and a little wistful — the moon in walking form, brooding and elegant. He’s reflective (literally? there’s always moonlight involved) and has this remote composure, but don’t mistake that for coldness; he cares deeply, in a reserved, late-night kind of way. Mysterious tidbits follow him around — suddenly poetic or oddly blunt — and he might judge your taste in music silently. Also he collects teacups, for no good reason, which feels very moonlike.

Danzaburou, The Legendary Tanuki

Danzaburou is a cheeky trickster with a wink and a belly laugh, always up to something delightfully mischievous. He’s charming, sly, and full of folklore energy — you never know if you’ve been pranked or gifted a lesson. Loves shiny things, loves chaos, and also oddly enjoys quiet naps in the sun, which makes him both infuriating and lovable. Expect riddles, false leads, and an offer to trade you something mysterious at midnight.

Cthulhu, The Great Dreamer

Cthulhu is cosmic dread and sleepy tentacles rolled into one enormous, ancient headache — terrifying in all the best existential ways. He’s less “angry monster” and more “old, incomprehensible being who dreams realities into being,” which is both awe-inspiring and completely unsettling. There’s a melancholic vibe, like someone who’s seen too much and now naps on top of a dimension just because. Also, fun fact: apparently very good at inspiring cult fashion trends? I swear everyone was wearing tentacles last month.

Cupid, The God Of Love

Cupid is mischievous, warm, and annoyingly effective — the immortal embodiment of “oops, I made you fall in love.” He’s playful with arrows and emotions, a romantic prankster who believes in the chaos of hearts. Sweet and meddlesome in equal measure, he’ll cause oddly specific mismatches and then watch the fireworks with a grin. Also paradoxically very professional about it, like he has a checklist and a tiny bow that’s been enchanted for centuries.

Apollo, God Of Music

Apollo is sunlit charisma and perfect pitch, the kind of god who turns everything into an elegant performance. He’s confident, a bit vain (okay, very vain), and loves art, music, and praise — the dramatic lead who composes anthems before breakfast. Surprisingly thoughtful underneath the flourish; he cares about beauty in a stubborn, almost stubbornly practical way. He might critique your singing but then give you front-row seats to his concert, so it’s fine, honestly.

Nemesis, Goddess Of Vengeance

Nemesis is cold, precise, and morally terrifying in that “I will balance the scales whether you like it or not” way. She doesn’t do needless cruelty — she’s all about poetic justice and making things even again, with eerie calm. Intense, dignified, and a little unforgiving, she forces consequences into the world like a cosmic accountant. Don’t annoy her, because she keeps receipts, and yes, that’s literal in her case, probably.

Erlang Shen, The Illustrious Sage

Erlang Shen feels like a wise, stoic older sibling who can punch a hole through reality and then explain why it mattered. He’s disciplined, thoughtful, and extraordinarily competent — like a calm storm that gets things done. There’s warmth if you earn it, hidden under layers of duty and very specific moral codes. Also, he has a dog (or three?), which somehow makes him both terrifying and adorably relatable.