Avarice Domain

Divine practitioners of magic rarely choose to serve avarice. Obviously, if you serve, say, a prominent five-headed dragon queen, the application is obvious. But for many worshippers, avarice often comes from misinterpretation of the texts or tennents. When prosperity preachers finally realize what they’ve wrought, they’re far too comfortable with or have fully extolled greed as virtue. Avarice commonly manifests in merchants or those that worship gods of trade, but it is hardly bound to commerce. Priests of the dead may insist on steep funeral costs, lest the fallen linger in this realm. A devout sailor may grip the oceans in terror, becoming a dread pirate lord upon discovering the riches gleaned off the backs of others—but their crew, their family, is the most well fed and paid on the high seas. A priest dedicated to a god of knowledge may hoard troves of texts until they pass, leaving a legendary library in their wake. There are even stories throughout the planes of a “Church of Greed”—a temple that worships no god in its pursuit of the divine, but rather the very concept of avarice itself. Not every cleric of avarice is “evil,” or even “not very nice.” Voracity can lead to ambition, which, with the right tempering, can become a form of highly directed altruism. Imagine the gnome friar who bestows daily blessings of fortune to the local miners, who in turn bring a small tithe at the end of the profitable day. Or the dwarven forge cleric who offers to consult priests of plenty in fine gem work in a mutually profitable relationship. Even the odd dungeon-crashing adventurer can transform their passion for stray animal adoption into a fully funded shelter for wayward monsters. There are many branching routes on the path of avarice, but those who walk it, whether by choice or circumstance, find that it is a difficult one to leave.