From another perspective...

He was known by his subects as many things. The timeless one, the eternal source, the highest order, and so on... but truly, he was always called by one name face to face, and that was Sanatos. Very few were ever given the honour to do so, however, and fewer still had ever seen more than a shady figure sitting behind numerous veils that hung from the ceiling and stretched down so that they dragged across the smooth stone floor, rippling at the center from the gentle but freezing winds constantly present. They were spread apart so that there was plenty of room between them, giving him space but trailing enough that he could get from one to another without having to show himself to the lower forms who obeyed him without question. The impression it gave most was that of a spirit, being that they never saw more than a silhouette. Fewer still said they knew better; Their deity would adorn himself in large bundles of clothing, furs and feathers, presumably to keep away the chill air he lived his entire life in. The god never removed his armour, a thing made of some doubtlessly impenetrable material that shone more stunningly than silver. Most curious of all, his face had never been seen directly. It was always turned away or blocked from view by something or other. His voice rasped with age and disuse, but it was deep and commanding, clearly worthy of the highest respect. He moved with a vicious grace and confidence. This world was his... but Sanatos needed more. For this purpose he had opened the gate to the new world, and it would be his, too.

Of course, first he needed to know what there was for him in this new world, and so he had been sending out reconaissance patrols. The latest one had returned with news he had been waiting for a very long time. They had encountered people from this new world. The patrol had been discussing conversion with a group of the other worlders who had seemed intrigued by the depiction of Sanatos, but not convinced when the part-breed had joined them. The patrol - loyal as it was to his teachings - had attacked it, but the other group had quickly jumped in to try to stop them. By the end of it all, only the slightly depleted patrol had survived battle, although the part-breed had escaped. The other world was not expecting battle. They were shielding part-breed creatures. The path from here was clear: there would be war. So long as they acted quickly, Sanatos was certain they would succeed. If he were fortunate, the war would even return one of his loose ends to him. Today was a good day to be a god.