Viviora is not around right now, of course, but in trying to cobble together a shrine from what he remembers, he finds Tristan shaking his head occasionally and Kulloda eventually getting frustrated enough that he butts in and fixes things. While there is no precise way a shrine MUST be, there are some general guidelines people follow and, with Kulloda's help, it looks generally right. The only thing missing, of course, is an offering. A divine item, Martin recalls, is something the Traveler has a well-documented interest in.
Dog would stop by the inn before heading out of town, assuming it's on the way. He'd check to make sure they are okay, offer them refuge at the palace or somewhere else, and ask if there is anything he might want to know about Finnegan.
Kulloda stands back from the makeshift shrine, arms folded across his large chest and nods.
"These all same. Priests not good with new ideas," Kulloda says to Martin. "Place people bow, kneel, whine, cry. Shiny bits. Mantel part to put things on. This part here is where put sacrifice. We have sacrifice? Tempus like warriors defeated in battle. But Traveler not sound like fighter. Maybe not bathe shrine in blood."
He then goes quiet when Dog finally shows back up. Kulloda doesn't have words to ask about someone's parents.
Tristan shakes his head and tries to keep a smile off of his face as he watches Kulloda help with the shrine “Nicely done, especially the part with the shiny bits. You are right though, it is less about the presentation and more about the offering. No, I don’t believe a defeated warrior will do in this case.”
He looks around to the others “I believe the Traveler has an interest in divine artifacts. Shall we offer the book or quill we picked up in the graveyard of the gods, or perhaps the sextant that Dog and Kulloda retrieved from the mountain? I hear the Traveler has been linked to that one in particular.”
“You are a marvel, Kulloda. Good call on the sextant, are you sure you are not a poet at heart?”
The half-orc was much smarter than he portrayed himself, and Tristan was equally sure that there was a path of dead foes that had underestimated the fighter in the past.
“As far as the Traveler goes, just talk I think?”Tristan looks questioningly at the others “Find out why he was sent away, if he wants back in the game? Maybe we warn him of Finnegan’s plans if we don’t want the little runt actually achieving godhood.”
Dog returns, and nods at the shrine. "I've never really been one for gods, which you might find ironic, given what the last few years of my life have involved."He puts his hands on his hips and gazes down the road. "A child of a god. Flight from, and to, avatars of gods. A big fight among angels and devils of gods. Now this massive celestial negotiation over how many and what kind of gods there will be."
He looks back at the group -- some new, some old, all seemingly crazy enough to keep trying their best to avoid disaster amid the chaos and the bureaucracy. "Somehow we're in the middle of it all. And do you know I've never prayed before?" He walks over to the makeshift altar, picking up the sextant, remembering the trip to the highest peak with Kulloda, before setting it down and turning to the barbarian. "I don't share Kulloda's approach and refreshing disdain for them, but I wholeheartedly agree that the main thing we have to keep in mind is how this affects mortals."He again addresses the rest of the group. "All mortals. Not certain kinds, or certain adherents, or just the faithful, or only the strong, or the righteous. All of them. The gods wield immortality and power and the best thing they can do, it seems, is stay out of our business unless they have something constructive to contribute. That's how I'm approaching this. I also don't think it's good to cast out, or destroy, or ostracize a god just because they aren't like the others. This world thrives because of variety. If everything was the same, we'd be deeply bored. So Traveler, if you're listening, we'd like to hear your story. Find out what's going on, to see if it makes sense for us to help."
He blinks, realizing that he may have stumbled into a prayer, on accident.
Dog would stop by the inn before heading out of town, assuming it's on the way. He'd check to make sure they are okay, offer them refuge at the palace or somewhere else, and ask if there is anything he might want to know about Finnegan.
They are indeed okay and happy to see Dog but the shame in their eyes is painful to see, knowing that Dog knows the truth now. What they say of Finnegan is nothing new and mostly about his brashness, his ambition, and his already notable power. Dog's mother seems to think he might be secretly lonely but his dad shakes his head. "He is heartless," the elder goliath says. They have plans to visit the lands of their tribe and see if they can seek forgiveness for abandoning the tribe. If not, they will come back to Matas and seek employment or even open their own shop.
On the road, with the shrine completed and all three divine artifacts placed as offerings, the response from the Traveler is not immediate. It has been a long day and the clear, star-studded sky and crisp air make for a peaceful, if late, night. The constellations march across the sky and eventually Gash, Martin, and Tristan find rest. Dog is lost in thought and Kulloda merely feels anticipation keeping him awake. At around 2 in the morning, a smooth, dark voice speaks.
"Weary travelers armed such as you do not need any help of mine, typically," says the voice. It is difficult to pinpoint where the voice is coming from. It seems to almost come from the night itself. "But you have my attention. What do you offer and what do you seek of the Traveler?"
Kulloda reaches over and rouses Gash, Martin and Tristan.
"Traveler here now," Kulloda says, looking around for a body to connect to the voice. "They play tricks. Stays invisible. Are you sure not already god?"
Kulloda stands up and looks around some more. He opens his mouth to speak to the Traveler but then pauses, trying to remember why they are here and what they're looking for.
"You, Traveler, you want be god again?" Kulloda says loudly into the darkness then he looks at the others and shrugs, indicating he's exhausted his line of questioning.
There is a lengthy silence. Before Kulloda can question the seemingly empty night again, a figure steps out of nothing.
"I am a god," they say, although not with any anger or frustration.
They are dressed in a dark cloak, a rucksack slung over their shoulder. Dust colors their legs and the bottom of their cloak as if they had walked here and not stepped out of thin air. They look over the party carefully.
"Hmmm," the Traveler says. They seem to be puzzling through a number of things at the revelations imbedded in Kulloda's question, the shrine, and the people before them.
"Yes," they say at last. "If you can aid that goal, I am interested in your offering. What do you want in exchange? Know that I am but a humble traveler with meagre belongings to my name."
Dog shakes himself, having thought he was dreaming, and only realizes what's going on when Kulloda shakes the others awake. He stands. Listens to the first exchange.
"Yes, we do not need mundane help. My name is Doggear Brakespine. I used to travel with Q'wai. And Ronis, and Bulwark, and Tock, and others, in service to Gentoa. We are involved in... well, it would be helpful to know if you know everything already so we don't have to waste words. You know of the divine gatherings, the negotiations, the proposals? The candidates? I assume you want to get back in the pantheon, or at least survive."
Dog shakes himself, having thought he was dreaming, and only realizes what's going on when Kulloda shakes the others awake. He stands. Listens to the first exchange.
"Yes, we do not need mundane help. My name is Doggear Brakespine. I used to travel with Q'wai. And Ronis, and Bulwark, and Tock, and others, in service to Gentoa. We are involved in... well, it would be helpful to know if you know everything already so we don't have to waste words. You know of the divine gatherings, the negotiations, the proposals? The candidates? I assume you want to get back in the pantheon, or at least survive."
Does Dog see their face? Is it hooded?
It is hooded, yes. Only their mouth and chin are really visible.
"I...am unwelcome at divine gatherings, even here on the mortal plane where I have walked for a thousand years," they say. "I do know the divine have been gathering, although not the purpose. I assumed it was fallout from their conflict over my niece last year. Why?"
Tristan rises to his feet as the Traveler appears and studies him closely. “Something to do with that, yes. The gods are moving heaven and hells and creating a limbo plane. They aim to raise two new gods to even the planes. A faction supports your return, another opposes it with all their power. We weary mortals may be able to place our fingers on the scales to tip the balance, but should we? What kind of god were you in your time? What kind of god would you be if you stopped your endless wandering?”
"They believe her presence upsets the Accords. I would assume some aim to take advantage of that belief to further their own ends. Those ends include the Divine Cage, and most certainly you are a target. Or your niece. Perhaps both. And always, always, we are in the dark but asked to make decisions. If you are outside their... Influence, then can you - please and finally- elaborate on what this all means?" Martin pleads, a bit pitifully
Tristan rises to his feet as the Traveler appears and studies him closely. “Something to do with that, yes. The gods are moving heaven and hells and creating a limbo plane. They aim to raise two new gods to even the planes. A faction supports your return, another opposes it with all their power. We weary mortals may be able to place our fingers on the scales to tip the balance, but should we? What kind of god were you in your time? What kind of god would you be if you stopped your endless wandering?”
"The god I was is no more,"" says the Traveler. "I scarcely remember what or who I was. I have been the Traveler for all but a sliver of my entire existence. Only Milil visits me on occasion as a reminder to who I once was. My brother is the only connection I have to that time."
The Traveler pauses and actually takes a seat on a rock, looking thoughtful. "Dividing the planes is risky. There must truly be some strife among the gods for them to agree. I don't know anything about this Limbo, but if I were invited back to the Heavenly planes to join my brother, I would be the god of Second Chances. That is often what I offered as an outcast god and it would be suitable given my own circumstances.
"They believe her presence upsets the Accords. I would assume some aim to take advantage of that belief to further their own ends. Those ends include the Divine Cave, and most certainly you are a target. Or your niece. Perhaps both. And always, always, we are in the dark but asked to make decisions. If you are outside their... Influence, then can you - please and finally- elaborate on what this all means?" Martin pleads, a bit pitifully
"Yes," the Traveler says sympathetically. "The gods are stingy in sharing their machinations. They always have been. Trust is hard for a god. That is why you typically earn their favor and not the other way around. As to what it means, I can only surmise, but I shall do so for your benefit."
The fire surges as the outcast god begins to tell their story.
I ascended to the heavens for my mortal deeds, lost to another era. In doing so, I left behind my brother, a talented and revered bard. I loved him and owed my ascension to his poems and songs. Leaving him behind tore at my heart. In another time, he might have ascended to the heavens of his own talents. But the gods, I among them, feared the fate of those gods who came and went before us, slain by each other due to the jealous madness that can only grip a god. We did not want to repeat what those other gods had done, so we made a pact. We would prevent the ascension of any mortal to the divine realm. To further protect ourselves, we divided ourselves into the heavens and the hells and divided those into 9 planes each. That would be the way of things until all the magic in the world grew stale and the mortals were naught but bones.
A few objected to the harsh limits placed on ourselves, I foremost in their ranks. Forty was too few gods, I said. We surely need more to oversee all that the world had to offer. But I was overruled. I was the youngest and the brashest and I clearly had my own aims.
Thus, from my heavenly seat, I watched my brother get old and his fingers grow stiff on his strings. His fame grew. He united nations with his words and his deeds. He deserved an immortal seat as much as anyone. And so I broke our pact.
My mistake was in seeking help from Savras. I asked of the god of divination how long Milil had left on the mortal plane. This revealed my weakness and would be my eventual undoing. I should have just acted because Milil was already on his deathbed. Milil had earned more than enough divine power to ascend but he still needed my help to bypass our new barriers to entry. I used artifacts from the dead gods of yore and some of my own power and lifted my brother to his rightful seat in the heavens.
The less said about what follows, the better. I was found out quickly. Some wanted me sentenced to death but most still feared a purge like the old gods. Instead, I was banished, a god without a domain, sentenced to wander the mortal plane until madness or forgiveness found me. I have been shunned by all but my brother, who has kept me sane until forgiveness does again find me.
Now is where I surmise. The gods still fear descending into a purge. But they are still gripped by the paranoia and jealousy that comes with such power as they possess. Some, such as Bane, would no doubt initiate a purge if they could, believing themselves the superior gods who would triumph and usher in the next pantheon. If enough gods are dissatisfied with the status quo that they wish to form an entirely new sphere of divine planes, then it will be an opportunity for those who want to unravel the balance the gods have carefully crafted. By the same token, some gods may understandably be uncomfortable with sharing a place in the hells with a god such as Bane. If all this is true, the gods are seeking to retain their balance, between the heavens, the hells, and the limbo planes. But this transition will be a moment of weakness for the gods. Chaos may reign if all is not done carefully. The risks are numerous. If a new god is too weak, they may be murdered before they can truly establish themselves, for example. Additionally, I suspect the reorganization of the planes will take effort and concentration. While they are distracted, a jealous god may strike.
In short, yes, I have longed to return to the heavens and would gladly do so if allowed. I am strongly distrusted, though, and my acceptance will be hard to win. The hells in particular believe me to have aims to upset the balance. Although I cannot think of anything more appropriate for a god of second chances than to be permitted to be the one who restores the balance.
The fire crackles as the god finishes their tale, each of the mortals in their audience silent in their individual thoughts for a short time.
Kulloda stops his pacing and comes back to the shrine and listens to the Traveler speak. Endless debate stretches his self control to its very limits. But this was storytelling. Storytelling was different. Storytelling he can live with.
”Hah. Gods just like kings and rich men. Gather power and wealth then work hard stop others from getting any. Should get rid of all.”
Kulloda laughs loudly for a moment before digesting the rest of the story.
”You as good a choice as any. Let’s kill gnome and dragon and make Traveler only choice. Tempus not care as long as get Limbo.”
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Viviora is not around right now, of course, but in trying to cobble together a shrine from what he remembers, he finds Tristan shaking his head occasionally and Kulloda eventually getting frustrated enough that he butts in and fixes things. While there is no precise way a shrine MUST be, there are some general guidelines people follow and, with Kulloda's help, it looks generally right. The only thing missing, of course, is an offering. A divine item, Martin recalls, is something the Traveler has a well-documented interest in.
Dog would stop by the inn before heading out of town, assuming it's on the way. He'd check to make sure they are okay, offer them refuge at the palace or somewhere else, and ask if there is anything he might want to know about Finnegan.
Kulloda stands back from the makeshift shrine, arms folded across his large chest and nods.
"These all same. Priests not good with new ideas," Kulloda says to Martin. "Place people bow, kneel, whine, cry. Shiny bits. Mantel part to put things on. This part here is where put sacrifice. We have sacrifice? Tempus like warriors defeated in battle. But Traveler not sound like fighter. Maybe not bathe shrine in blood."
He then goes quiet when Dog finally shows back up. Kulloda doesn't have words to ask about someone's parents.
Tristan shakes his head and tries to keep a smile off of his face as he watches Kulloda help with the shrine “Nicely done, especially the part with the shiny bits. You are right though, it is less about the presentation and more about the offering. No, I don’t believe a defeated warrior will do in this case.”
He looks around to the others “I believe the Traveler has an interest in divine artifacts. Shall we offer the book or quill we picked up in the graveyard of the gods, or perhaps the sextant that Dog and Kulloda retrieved from the mountain? I hear the Traveler has been linked to that one in particular.”
"Sextant what use show way on ships, yes?" Kulloda asks. "Sound best for a traveler."
He looks at the shrine and around the area they're in.
"Is this a talk - talk thing? Or we catch Traveler?"
“You are a marvel, Kulloda. Good call on the sextant, are you sure you are not a poet at heart?”
The half-orc was much smarter than he portrayed himself, and Tristan was equally sure that there was a path of dead foes that had underestimated the fighter in the past.
“As far as the Traveler goes, just talk I think?” Tristan looks questioningly at the others “Find out why he was sent away, if he wants back in the game? Maybe we warn him of Finnegan’s plans if we don’t want the little runt actually achieving godhood.”
Martin will gather the quill, book, and sextant on the shrine and start to try to pray.
Paladin - warforged - orange
Dog returns, and nods at the shrine. "I've never really been one for gods, which you might find ironic, given what the last few years of my life have involved." He puts his hands on his hips and gazes down the road. "A child of a god. Flight from, and to, avatars of gods. A big fight among angels and devils of gods. Now this massive celestial negotiation over how many and what kind of gods there will be."
He looks back at the group -- some new, some old, all seemingly crazy enough to keep trying their best to avoid disaster amid the chaos and the bureaucracy. "Somehow we're in the middle of it all. And do you know I've never prayed before?" He walks over to the makeshift altar, picking up the sextant, remembering the trip to the highest peak with Kulloda, before setting it down and turning to the barbarian. "I don't share Kulloda's approach and refreshing disdain for them, but I wholeheartedly agree that the main thing we have to keep in mind is how this affects mortals." He again addresses the rest of the group. "All mortals. Not certain kinds, or certain adherents, or just the faithful, or only the strong, or the righteous. All of them. The gods wield immortality and power and the best thing they can do, it seems, is stay out of our business unless they have something constructive to contribute. That's how I'm approaching this. I also don't think it's good to cast out, or destroy, or ostracize a god just because they aren't like the others. This world thrives because of variety. If everything was the same, we'd be deeply bored. So Traveler, if you're listening, we'd like to hear your story. Find out what's going on, to see if it makes sense for us to help."
He blinks, realizing that he may have stumbled into a prayer, on accident.
As a reminder, because I forgot, here are the properties of the sextant, book, and quill.
Kulloda listens as Dog speaks. He grunts and nods agreement when the big man finishes.
He rolls his shoulders, sits down beside the shrine, leaning back against it and closes his eyes.
Who knows how long it takes for a god to show up.
They are indeed okay and happy to see Dog but the shame in their eyes is painful to see, knowing that Dog knows the truth now. What they say of Finnegan is nothing new and mostly about his brashness, his ambition, and his already notable power. Dog's mother seems to think he might be secretly lonely but his dad shakes his head. "He is heartless," the elder goliath says. They have plans to visit the lands of their tribe and see if they can seek forgiveness for abandoning the tribe. If not, they will come back to Matas and seek employment or even open their own shop.
On the road, with the shrine completed and all three divine artifacts placed as offerings, the response from the Traveler is not immediate. It has been a long day and the clear, star-studded sky and crisp air make for a peaceful, if late, night. The constellations march across the sky and eventually Gash, Martin, and Tristan find rest. Dog is lost in thought and Kulloda merely feels anticipation keeping him awake. At around 2 in the morning, a smooth, dark voice speaks.
"Weary travelers armed such as you do not need any help of mine, typically," says the voice. It is difficult to pinpoint where the voice is coming from. It seems to almost come from the night itself. "But you have my attention. What do you offer and what do you seek of the Traveler?"
Kulloda reaches over and rouses Gash, Martin and Tristan.
"Traveler here now," Kulloda says, looking around for a body to connect to the voice. "They play tricks. Stays invisible. Are you sure not already god?"
Kulloda stands up and looks around some more. He opens his mouth to speak to the Traveler but then pauses, trying to remember why they are here and what they're looking for.
"You, Traveler, you want be god again?" Kulloda says loudly into the darkness then he looks at the others and shrugs, indicating he's exhausted his line of questioning.
There is a lengthy silence. Before Kulloda can question the seemingly empty night again, a figure steps out of nothing.
"I am a god," they say, although not with any anger or frustration.
They are dressed in a dark cloak, a rucksack slung over their shoulder. Dust colors their legs and the bottom of their cloak as if they had walked here and not stepped out of thin air. They look over the party carefully.
"Hmmm," the Traveler says. They seem to be puzzling through a number of things at the revelations imbedded in Kulloda's question, the shrine, and the people before them.
"Yes," they say at last. "If you can aid that goal, I am interested in your offering. What do you want in exchange? Know that I am but a humble traveler with meagre belongings to my name."
Dog shakes himself, having thought he was dreaming, and only realizes what's going on when Kulloda shakes the others awake. He stands. Listens to the first exchange.
"Yes, we do not need mundane help. My name is Doggear Brakespine. I used to travel with Q'wai. And Ronis, and Bulwark, and Tock, and others, in service to Gentoa. We are involved in... well, it would be helpful to know if you know everything already so we don't have to waste words. You know of the divine gatherings, the negotiations, the proposals? The candidates? I assume you want to get back in the pantheon, or at least survive."
Does Dog see their face? Is it hooded?
It is hooded, yes. Only their mouth and chin are really visible.
"I...am unwelcome at divine gatherings, even here on the mortal plane where I have walked for a thousand years," they say. "I do know the divine have been gathering, although not the purpose. I assumed it was fallout from their conflict over my niece last year. Why?"
Tristan rises to his feet as the Traveler appears and studies him closely. “Something to do with that, yes. The gods are moving heaven and hells and creating a limbo plane. They aim to raise two new gods to even the planes. A faction supports your return, another opposes it with all their power. We weary mortals may be able to place our fingers on the scales to tip the balance, but should we? What kind of god were you in your time? What kind of god would you be if you stopped your endless wandering?”
"They believe her presence upsets the Accords. I would assume some aim to take advantage of that belief to further their own ends. Those ends include the Divine Cage, and most certainly you are a target. Or your niece. Perhaps both. And always, always, we are in the dark but asked to make decisions. If you are outside their... Influence, then can you - please and finally- elaborate on what this all means?" Martin pleads, a bit pitifully
Paladin - warforged - orange
Kulloda sighs as he looks around at the others as they speak with the Traveler.
”So talk-talk meeting,” Kulloda says as he stands and moves out from the shrine, keeping watch for anyone coming to interfere with the conversation.
Hoping someone comes to interfere.
"The god I was is no more,"" says the Traveler. "I scarcely remember what or who I was. I have been the Traveler for all but a sliver of my entire existence. Only Milil visits me on occasion as a reminder to who I once was. My brother is the only connection I have to that time."
The Traveler pauses and actually takes a seat on a rock, looking thoughtful. "Dividing the planes is risky. There must truly be some strife among the gods for them to agree. I don't know anything about this Limbo, but if I were invited back to the Heavenly planes to join my brother, I would be the god of Second Chances. That is often what I offered as an outcast god and it would be suitable given my own circumstances.
"Yes," the Traveler says sympathetically. "The gods are stingy in sharing their machinations. They always have been. Trust is hard for a god. That is why you typically earn their favor and not the other way around. As to what it means, I can only surmise, but I shall do so for your benefit."
The fire surges as the outcast god begins to tell their story.
The fire crackles as the god finishes their tale, each of the mortals in their audience silent in their individual thoughts for a short time.
Kulloda stops his pacing and comes back to the shrine and listens to the Traveler speak. Endless debate stretches his self control to its very limits. But this was storytelling. Storytelling was different. Storytelling he can live with.
”Hah. Gods just like kings and rich men. Gather power and wealth then work hard stop others from getting any. Should get rid of all.”
Kulloda laughs loudly for a moment before digesting the rest of the story.
”You as good a choice as any. Let’s kill gnome and dragon and make Traveler only choice. Tempus not care as long as get Limbo.”