calderamemes | TDM #6

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TDM #6

ARRIVAL

It happens in an instant. A heavy weight in your gut, a trembling of your limbs, the world spins and you barely have time to register that you're falling before you lose consciousness. And when you awaken, it's not where you were last. Dark, unadorned oak walls surround you in a tiny room, the only furniture the bed you are currently resting upon, and the bedside table with a folded piece of parchment resting atop it that simply reads:

"The Tavernkeeper is awaiting your arrival downstairs."

As you exit you find others like yourself emerging from the surrounding rooms. You are indeed in a tavern, but there is no hustle and bustle one might think to hear in such a place. The only person down on the main floor is a humanoid figure wiping down the bar, who smiles when they see you. They're familiar, but not, and you can't quite place their face. For some reason, however, their presence is comforting and warm.

"Welcome, Visitor. I'm sure you have a lot of questions."

And you most certainly do.

Due to popular demand, the starter tavern and the drinks provided are available to in game characters via a portal accessible only to those with a faction gem.

DRINK MENU

SHADOW ELIXER an inky black liquid that seems to absorb light rather than reflect it. Grants temporary invisibility in darkness, but also makes the drinker whisper secrets unknowingly.

WIDOWS KISS A velvety red-black wine. One sip fills you with irresistible charm.

FOOL'S ECLIPSE A deep, glossy black drink with a golden swirl that never fully mixes in. Every sip tastes slightly different: sometimes sweet, sometimes sour, sometimes oddly salty for no reason at all. After one drink, the drinker's speech becomes hilariously jumbled, replacing random words with completely unrelated ones.

BLURBERRY FIZZ A deep blue liquid that constantly fizzess with tiny silver bubbles. When poured, the bubbles briefly form random shapes: sometimes a cat, sometimes a shoe, sometimes... a tiny screaming face (but only for a second). The drinker will also hiccup tiny, harmless floating bubbles for five minutes.

VEIL OF MIDNIGHTA crystal-clear vodka cocktail with shifting black, shadowy swirls that never settle. Causes the drinker's shadow to detach and do whatever it wants for five minutes.

CHOOSE YOUR DESTINY

As the effects of your drink wear off, the Tavernkeeper speaks once more:

"It is time, my friends, for you to find your new homes."

You are compelled to walk through the only door leading out of the tavern, finding yourself not outside, but in a deep black, seemingly endless room with five portals arranged in a circle. As the last of you leave and the door closes behind you, gone when you look back again and replaced with nothing but that black void, three of the portals illuminate:

The first portal is surrounded by an almost blinding light, prismatic rainbows shining brightly in the dewy air outside of the tavern. A soft breeze may gently caress you, pulling you toward it. The portal seems to lead to a city in the clouds, airships and winged beings of all sorts soaring through the skies. Of the little bits of visible land, much of it boasts giant waterfalls that look like clouds melting into the land below. The portal calls to those who crave independence and freedom; and especially to anyone that wishes to find the strong bond of a family not forged in blood.

The second portal is encircled by a fairy ring of spotted white-capped mushrooms, the faint scent of damp stone and rich earth wafting from within the faint green glow. Peering inside, one can see a sprawling harbor city of gray-hewn stone, a melting pot of humanoid beings going about their day, and beyond, rolling green farmland and cottages clustered in small villages. This portal is destined for those who crave stability and solid ground beneath their feet. A simple life, an adventurous one, and everything in between can be found within.

The last portal is adorned with broken shells and torn seaweed, the glow of blue around it flickering like a dying flame. Beyond it, you see a city housed inside a massive bubble deep under the ocean, its once-grand spiraling towers cracked and crumbling in places, encrusted with coral and debris from the destruction that came before. The streets are bustling, but an underlying tension lingers. Outside the bubble, merfolk swim, but some still bear the scars of battle, and the deep waters beyond are darker than they should be, as though something still lurks in the abyss. A sanctuary in the sea, one that calls to those with a hunger for knowledge and a desire to aid in rebuilding what was lost. Or perhaps it is the mystery that beckons you, the remnants of a catastrophe yet fully understood that bids you explore it.

Upon following the pull of the breeze through the first portal, you are thrust into the beauty of a lively city that goes by the name of Heaven's Bow. Much of this main city feels exactly as you would expect on a city below, but there are clouds surrounding every direction you look. The walls of buildings are made with light-colored limestone, and buildings are generally built up to heights made even more grandiose by their position in the sky.

The Skyfall Docks are the first thing you notice, boasting hundreds of airships sailing in and out across the clouds with shouts that accompany a typical port city. Just outside is a fantastic market with goods not only from the other regions of Caldera, but from what some shopkeepers claim are other worlds--items sold or left behind by Visitors. Almost anything can be found in the markets if one is willing to look hard enough. Transport to other locations throughout the sky and even to the land or sea can be found here.

If the docks are too lively for you, you may instead find yourself roaming the underbelly of Heaven's Bow and finding brothels and gambling parlors filled with the promise of pleasure and fortune. The guild house for the Sylphs can be found here as well, giving out quests and training to prospective adventurers and guards alike--though none of them seem concerned with the illicit activities that surround them. Perhaps the freedom the Sylphs boast of extends to what others may deem an undesirable activity.

But most curious of all, you find a shimmering opal gemstone in your hand. When placed anywhere on the body, it will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.

If it was the second portal that called to you, you will find yourself in the busy city of Grey Ward, with its cobblestone streets and sturdy grey stone buildings. You are in the heart of the city, the Glass Market, so named for the colorful stained glass windows of the surrounding buildings. However, signs of destruction mar the once-thriving marketplace. Some windows shattered, stalls bearing scorch marks, and a few buildings reduced to rubble. The scent of cooking food still lingers in the air, but so too does the acrid smell of smoldering wood. Watchful guards keep an even keener eye out for pickpockets and opportunists in the wake of the recent chaos. Citizens go about their day, some with a newfound wariness in their eyes.

From here, one can investigate the rest of the city: the Sundown Docks, where both sea and sky faring ships transport people and goods, though repairs are ongoing in some areas. The Soot Spire, home of inventors and engineers, where efforts to rebuild have begun in earnest. The Hearthstill, the main residential area, bears the scars of collapsed roofs and damaged homes, with families working together to restore what was lost. The Downs, a smaller residential area for those with less means, has been hit the hardest, and aid workers scramble to provide relief to the displaced.

Outside the city walls, one can explore acres of farmlands to the east and west, or follow Terra’s Pass to the less settled areas, but take care. Past the Skyward Range, out in the smaller burrows and villages, the influence of the city guard diminishes quickly, and you’ll have to keep your wits about you. Bandits along the road are always a risk, and the wildlife are less controlled by regimented hunting.

In your hand is a gemstone, a brilliantly green emerald that, when placed anywhere on the body, will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.

If the last portal beckoned you through it, you find yourself within that bubble-covered city beneath the sea, the city of Salt Spire. Your ears pop with the change in pressure, and the smell of the salty sea fills your nostrils. All around you, buildings made of dark stone encrusted with coral and seagrass tower high above your head, but some are marred by cracks, with scaffolding and patches where reconstruction has begun. The backdrop outside the dome is a deep blue, but lingering shadows in the depths hint at what once emerged from below. People with gills on their necks and scales upon their vibrantly colored skin move with a determined purpose, their curiosity toward newcomers now mixed with cautious wariness. You have many options of where to visit in the city under the sea, but where oh where will you go first?

The Salt Spire Library is right before you, an impossibly large building housing thousands upon thousands of books of all genres. Fiction, non-fiction, romance and mystery and all between. You may even find books from your world and others! Oddly enough though, no Calderan history books are to be found, and if you ask for them, the librarians and locals all choose to ignore your questions.

If scholarly pursuits aren't to your interest currently, perhaps a trip to Bluetide Market would be more your style? The marketplace is host to every manner of shop one might ever need: artisans of all varieties, apothecaries and healers in the Shimmer Quarter, the most in fashion undersea clothing shops, food stalls, and all between can be found in Bluetide. There are also the Tideshore and Fogbottom docks on either end of the city. The former allows transport to the surface via large, magical bubbles for those that cannot hold their breath or make the swim themselves yet. The latter allows people to venture further into the sea. Those without their underwater abilities are offered rebreathers for travel that last for four hours before needing to be replaced.

In your hand is a gemstone, a shining sapphire that, when placed anywhere on the body, will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.

SOLEMN CELEBRATIONS

After the chaos and destruction, the people of Caldera come together to express their gratitude to the Visitors, whose sacrifices were crucial in summoning Vesper, the newly awakened star god. This event, though filled with warmth and appreciation, carries the weight of what is still to come.

In Salt Spire, the bubbled underwater city, the heart of the celebration takes place. The bioluminescent glow of deep-sea creatures lights the festivities, their soft illumination casting a peaceful glow on the gathering, even through the haze of darkness beyond. Tables are laden with treasures from all three cities—gifts of wood and stone carvings from Grey Ward, textiles and plants from Salt Spire, and intricate glass orbs from Heaven’s Bow. It’s a moment of unity, as everyone, native and visitor alike, celebrates their survival and the hope Vesper now represents.

Above the sea, in Grey Ward, a quieter but equally heartfelt celebration takes place. The city, normally known for its steady hands at rebuilding, hosts a gathering of its people and the Visitors who have come through. Lanterns hang from the buildings, casting a warm glow over the cobblestone streets. Music from the land flows through the air; melodies of hope, of survival, of community. The people of Grey Ward offer their craftsmanship, beautiful wood carvings, practical tools, and heirlooms passed down through generations. Their gratitude runs deep, though they know the fight ahead will be long.

Heaven’s Bow, distant and high above the rest, holds its own subdued gathering. The people here are quieter in their celebration, reserved in their gratitude. Though they were not as directly involved in the summoning of Vesper, their support is evident in the delicate glass orbs they offer, each infused with starlight—a symbol of their unwavering faith. Their contribution may be less physical, but their presence and belief in the unity of Caldera is no less important.

In Salt Spire, the people raise their glasses high. "To those who fought to protect us," they toast, their voices rising in harmony. The people of Grey Ward join, their songs and music a reminder of the resilience of the land. Even Heaven’s Bow contributes with their delicate, glimmering orbs. The Visitors, new and old, are welcomed with open arms, gifted with tokens of appreciation. No one is excluded, for their presence, newly arrived or not, is valued deeply.

VESPER'S REQUEST

But, as the celebration continues, an undeniable presence looms at the edge of Salt Spire. Vesper, a massive, shadowy knight, the star god born of the Visitors’ sacrifices, stands apart from the merrymaking, watching quietly. His form, still flickering with the remnants of his connection to Triton’s darkness, is not yet fully settled. He speaks to the crowd, his voice calm, though tinged with the weight of what lies ahead.

"I was born of your sacrifices," Vesper says, his gaze sweeping over the Visitors. "I will not forget what you’ve given me. But our fight is not over. The darkness that birthed me still lingers, and Triton’s influence has not been erased. We must prepare. I will stand with you, when the time comes. And together, we will face what threatens this world."

The mood shifts slightly, a quiet understanding passing between the people. The celebration, while still joyful, carries the undercurrent of an impending storm. Triton’s return is inevitable, and though Vesper has emerged as a beacon of hope, his power is still growing. He will need the strength of those who summoned him, those who sacrificed for him, to confront the coming challenge.

As the night wears on and the festivities continue, the people of Caldera remain united in their shared resolve. The threat of Triton still hangs over them, but for now, they take this moment to honor the Visitors—those who sacrificed so much, and those who have only just joined the fight—and to strengthen the bonds that will be vital in the days to come.

Vesper welcomes conversation, yet it does not come naturally to him. His words are brief, precise—always tethered to his purpose, the reason for his existence. And therein lies his quiet concern: that something is missing. He yearns to connect, especially with the Visitors—the ones who gave of themselves so that he could become what he is now. A new star god. The light meant to stand against Triton’s encroaching darkness.

He speaks with certainty: he is the good that Triton once was, the lost brilliance of a god now twisted by corruption. But he does not wish to be merely a reflection of what once existed. He wants to grow beyond the shadow of the past, to forge an identity that is wholly his own. And so he seeks help—not only in understanding what he is but in becoming something more.

"Find memories," he says. "And craft new ones with me."

Memories of Triton’s past linger in the world, echoes trapped in places of significance. These must be sought out, for they hold the key to understanding Vesper’s origins.

SPECIAL QUEST: ASTRAL ECHOES

Vesper seeks the Astral Echoes, shards of violet light scattered across Caldera, each holding a fragment of Triton’s past. To understand himself and shape his future, Vesper asks the Visitors to retrieve them. This special quest will last the duration of the TDM, and will reward 400 Bones when turned in.

◾MEMORY ONE: THE DESCENT:

Near Salt Spire, a Violet Crystal Shard hums softly in an ancient ruin. When taken, it pulls the mind into a vision.

Triton falls, a streak of violet fire tearing through the sky to Caldera, a barren wasteland below. He crashes, sending stardust into the air, his form radiant with light, deep indigo skin marked with glowing lines, and eyes burning violet. He touches the earth, rivers of light spread, and the world begins to take shape.

But he is not alone. Aella, the sky, sweeps through the heavens, breathing life into the winds. Cordelia, the sea, shapes the waters and the depths. Terra, the land, molds the earth, forming mountains and valleys. And in the shadows, another lingers, a distant vision, hard to define, their presence felt but not fully understood. Together, they craft the new world.

"There will be law where there is chaos," Triton says. "Light where there is shadow. Justice where there is none."

The vision fades as the Violet Crystal Shard is given to Vesper. He holds it, feeling its pulse.

"He did not come to rule," Vesper murmurs, "He came to protect."

The shard dims, its purpose fulfilled. Yet its memory lingers, a quiet ember.

"Caldera was formless," Vesper whispers, "And they shaped it into something just."

He lifts his gaze, something stirring within him—understanding or perhaps the weight of his path ahead.

◾MEMORY TWO: THEM:

In a cave deep within Ignacia's Cradle, a faint Violet Crystal Shard pulses softly. When a Visitor holds it, they are pulled into a distant memory—one of doubt and rebellion.

The world is young, full of light and order. Triton stands with his companions—Aella, Cordelia, and Terra—shaping Caldera. But in the shadows, something stirs.

A figure, hard to define, stands apart. Their form flickers between light and darkness, their eyes filled with uncertainty.

"This world was meant for something more," they whisper, voice tinged with frustration. "Why does it feel so controlled?"

Triton watches them, sorrow in his eyes, but they step further into the shadows, their form dissolving, lost to doubt.

"Maybe it should burn," they murmur. "Maybe it should fall apart and rise again—wild."

The Violet Crystal Shard pulses as the figure vanishes into the darkness, leaving only the echo of Triton’s sorrow: "They were never meant to follow the order. They were always meant to fall into the shadows."

The memory fades, the figure still a mystery, their true nature lost in the shadows of the past.

◾MEMORY THREE: THE EXILE:

On the broken cliffsides near Grey Ward, a Violet Crystal Shard lies half-buried in the earth, its faint glow drawing the Visitor in. Upon touching it, a vision fills their mind—Triton stands, his form radiant with celestial light, yet his expression is one of deep sorrow and rage.

A shadowed figure, barely discernible, is ripped from the land. The figure’s volcanic home follows, both hurtling into the sky. The moon is born from their exile, the caldera formed in the center of the realm all that remains.

"You cannot do this," Triton’s voice shakes with grief. "They were meant to shape, not to be cast away."

The figure fades into the distance, and Triton’s grief transforms into fury. "They were not yours to remove," he says, the words heavy with loss.

As the vision fades, Vesper holds the shard, feeling the surge of sorrow deep within. He breathes in slowly, understanding the weight of Triton’s loss.

"I was not meant to be a reflection," Vesper murmurs. The echo of Triton’s voice lingers: "I should have protected them."

The memory settles into Vesper’s heart, shaping his resolve. The past will not bind him; he must grow beyond it.

◾MEMORY FOUR: THE LAST STAND:

At the foot of Cordelia's tower, the final Violet Crystal Shard rests upon the weathered steps. It lies half-hidden, barely visible to the eye, as if waiting for the right moment to be found. Only now, as the Visitors approach, does it reveal itself.

Triton stands before Cordelia, his violet glow dimming as his power fades. The air between them crackles with tension, and his voice trembles with disbelief:

"You would strike me down, Cordelia?"

Cordelia stands tall, her sorrow evident but her resolve unshaken. "You leave me no choice."

With a final, desperate lunge, Triton reaches for the stars—the same stars he had once shaped—but they remain silent, indifferent. Cordelia’s blade pierces his chest, the sound of shattering power filling the air as Triton’s body cracks into violet shards, scattering across the land.

His final words echo through the vision, filled with regret: "Was I wrong?"

The vision fades, and Vesper stands on the steps, his hand still holding the shard. The weight of Triton’s question lingers, heavy in the silence.

Vesper’s breath catches, the sorrow of the moment settling deep within him. "He was more than just a fallen god," he whispers, his gaze searching. "He was a part of this world—his doubt, his pain. And it shapes me now."

The shard pulses one last time, and Vesper knows this memory is not just a reflection of the past—it is a part of his own journey, one that will lead him to forge his own path.

CHOOSE [HIS] DESTINY

When all shards are given to Vesper, he stands in silence, the weight of Triton’s past pressing upon him. Then, he speaks:

"I was born from a fractured god. But I am not him. The past shapes me, but it does not define me. So I ask you—what will I become?"

Visitors may influence his choice:

◾Option 1: Embody Triton’s Lost Virtues

Vesper embraces Triton’s virtues of justice, wisdom, and light, becoming a beacon of hope for Caldera. This choice grants him the strength of a god, with a deep understanding of the weight of justice. He will fight against the corruption Triton once embodied, drawing on the wisdom of the past to prevent its recurrence. "By standing for what is just, I will be ready to fight against what Triton has become."

Option 2: Forge a New Path

Vesper rejects the past, creating his own identity free from Triton’s shadow. This choice grants him freedom and strength, allowing him to reinvent himself as a new kind of star god. He will fight against Triton’s darkness, symbolizing the triumph of free will over legacy, and gaining the power to face both external and internal battles.

"I will not be a shadow of what came before. I will become something stronger."

Option 3: Balance Light and Shadow

Vesper accepts both the brilliance and downfall of Triton, walking the path of balance. This choice gives him the strength to wield both light and shadow, allowing him to understand Triton’s corruption and fight it from within. Vesper’s knowledge of both sides of existence will make him resilient in his battle against Triton’s darkness.

"I will fight with the strength of both light and shadow, knowing each part of me is necessary to stand against the darkness."

Once the Visitors make their choice, Vesper will stand in silence, the decision settling within him. He is no longer just the fractured god he once was, but something whole—ready for the battle ahead. Triton’s darkness still threatens Caldera, but Vesper is stronger, more prepared, and more determined.

"Thank you," he will say. "With your help, I’ve chosen my path. When the time comes to face Triton, I will bring the light he lost—or create something new to stop his darkness."

[With Vesper's awakening, shadow abilities have been unlocked for the Undine faction]

QUESTBOARD

Settled in? Good. It's time to make your way to the Questboard located in every city in numerous, easy to access locations. That is, if you want to make any kind of impact on the world or just get some Bones for anything you might wish to purchase. Visitors are given a very small stipend in which to survive every month, but all it does is keep you fed and housed. These quests will assure you greater wealth, and they're the main reason you're here: each finished quest helps the Calderans fix their shattering world.

Quests can be accepted at the questboard via magically signed parchment upon the board. Just sign your name to accept and the paper will be whisked away... somewhere. You're not actually sure. Probably nothing to concern yourself with.

Once quests are completed, earned Bones will be dropped off at the character's residence by Bonita, the mysterious artisan who has supposedly handcrafted every Bone circulating in Caldera. Please do not speak to her, she startles easily.

OOC NOTES

Welcome to Caldera's sixth TDM! All characters awaken in a strange tavern with nothing save the clothes on their backs, all of their powers stripped, and a piece of parchment directing them downstairs to the Tavernkeeper. There is a thread of all questions answered by the Tavernkeeper here, and if you have more, feel free to ask there for what would be offered ICly.

For OOC questions, please direct themhere.

To Choose Vesper's Path, please state which option you would like to choose here. prospective players are encouraged to weigh in!

The TDM is game canon and all completed quests can be carried over once accepted into the game.

The following pages have been updated:

◾Additional rewards have been added under the Undine section of the rewards page.

◾Vesper has been added to the NPC page.

Have fun, Visitors!

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"That is an unusual amount of peril," Penric agreed. "At least at scale. Unless you count very bad winters up in the mountains."

Considering Pen's divine Patron, he suspects that if this were his world, the answer to 'and what are You doing about it' was 'I sent you, didn't I?'. But this was what Pen had signed up for (though options had been limited), at least.

"For mortals, especially. And their faction leaders do not seem to care." Sure, they had excuses, and reasons, oh I was fighting the mysterious undersea god, oh here's Ignacia just...deal with it. Absolutely terrible leadership and if there's one thing an Ultramarine cannot stand, it is poor leadership.

"A few months ago, it was a volcano that appeared from nowhere. Recently, an earthquake." So if they told the new man their usual 'heroic' speech, he better be good at preventing natural disasters.

"Well, I'm mostly a scholar, but I can at least hold hammer and nails. And I have some training as a physician."

Pen, no.

Pen then paused to reassure Des that he could at least set a bone without taking it personally if the patient died anyway. It wasn't like they had sorcery to speed the recovery.

"But... mortals?" It was a peculiar word for 'people' when Penric was used to humans and beings that were entirely immaterial. And it seemed like the rulers here were... made of matter and not spirits. (And it was certainly possible that he was missing something; any sort of spirit was invisible to most people, though even the least spiritually sensitive felt something around a saint actively channeling their god.)

"Either of those skills can be used now." Gadriel looked at his hands. "You are better equipped than I." All he could do is lift heavy things, and scare children.

"I am sorry. Baseline humans. Unaugmented." It's hard to explain. They're called mortals because compared to Astartes they die...really easily.

"Don't be sorry for explaining. I ask questions. Rather a lot, I'm afraid. And my world only has 'baseline humans' among its people, so we wouldn't have a word to distinguish us."

"But, I'd guess that anyone who is strong as you look could find some things to do." While Penric's family was nobility, they weren't so high ranked that they didn't know what sort of labor a farming community might need. "I take it the natural disasters haven't caused an increase in looting or banditry?"

Look, no one wearing armor like that should find bandits a problem. At best, the bandits may be faster, because Penric is certain even a draft horse would not support Gadriel in armor.

"I will answer as many questions as I can, but keep in mind, I do not know everything, especially about this place. It is very strange to me." And probably vice versa.

Gadriel didn't need horses because he could outrun them. Listen, he has one skill in life, and that's being ridiculously overpowered.

"Not much." At least Gadriel hasn't seen any. "The people here are mostly good. Which is why the neglect of their leaders is so galling."

"What sort of neglect?" Pen asked. While Penric's experience with the nobility was limited, he knew that most of what was expected was providing supplies and organizing labor.

He waved a hand around. "You see the work the people have done to rebuild. You will see the destruction closer to the water. And you will see us--hostages, or Visitors, whichever you prefer, and you will see the citizens." His hands bunched into fists like he'd love to punch something but there were no good targets.

"And you see that our faction leaders, the nobles, are safe in their little compounds. They lift no fingers to help. They did not even share food in the worst of it."

"I'm surprised the citizens aren't ready to riot, then," Penric said. "The relationship tends to work both ways, even if it is unequal. And homeless and hungry people have very little to lose."

"You would be surprised what citizens endure when they feel there is no hope." He had seen enough hivesprawls to speak on it, and Chairon had grown up in one. "People focus on surviving the next day, the next hour. Some sort of revolution is beyond their ability to conceive."

"True. I was assuming these disasters were somewhat new," Penric said, "and they might be between the point where it is unprecedented and something to pull together for and the point where it becomes routine."

"They do appear to be...accelerating." He wasn't here long enough to truly know but a suddenly appearing volcano and a sudden earthquake, in a two month span? Was a LOT.

"I hope you are wrong on that. We, at least we hostages, need to resist complacency."

"Well, we have some advantage in an outsider's perspective. If this behavior is normal for the rulers of this land, we can contrast it with the rulers of our own."

Which... Penric knew the royalty and nobility of his own world would be able to do exactly nothing to prevent such things, but would be sending supplies. And the church would also add their own stores and physicians (and divines to conduct funeral services -- one of those would signal that a missing person was in fact dead).

"If it were abnormal, the normal citizens of this world would have protested by now. Instead, they are giving offerings to one of the faction leader's...altars." So, you know unlikely to heresy if they were displeased with them.

Gadriel did not do much cleanup work, but the Ministorum had the weight and resources of the Imperium, for planets after a disaster like a tyranid incursion.

"Offerings and not taxes?" Penric asked to clarify. "Or tithes?" Look, monetary and other physical donations to the Temple went to pay divines and to upkeep even if the spirit of the offering was dedicated to the god, but it was made clear that offerings such as prayer and song were fine for those who had none.

Penric isn't used to the idea that gods had physical needs, like hunger or cold. If they did.

"I do not know. But the statue of Cordelia's Rest is surrounded by offerings and prayer tokens." Ridiculous, really. All she had done was walk out of the water with a soggy sob story. After doing nothing during the earthquake. Convenient excuse for inaction.

Too convenient.

"I do not know about tithes. Though if they pay them, they are being misspent."

"The five functions of prayer are service, supplication, gratitude, divination and atonement," Penric said under his breath, with what sounded like 'reciting from rote'. Louder, he said, "If the locals believed it would be worse without Cordelia, that would explain offerings, even if it is taken on faith." And hard to argue with.

"Penance." Not quite the same thing as atonement, but close enough. "But that is not widely done here, or in many of the other worlds of our fellow hostages."

Penric shrugged. "I've found it tends to be more common as one ages." And most of the Visitors here seemed to be people young enough that they weren't that self-reflective.

"I would hate to think that any of the civilians here blame themselves for what has happened to their homes." So they BETTER not be doing penance for Cordelia. "I do not understand their faith."

"Have you talked much with them about it?" Penric asked. "I admit, I haven't had the chance yet."

"They do not seem to speak openly about it. At least to me." Maybe the other man would have better luck. Maybe Gadriel was offputting and couldn't really ask questions without it sounding like an interrogation with a chainsword at the end. "Someone needs to talk them out of their heresy."

"What makes you think it's heretical?" Penric asked, an eyebrow raised. He could feel the mental equivalent of a hand on his shoulder -- Desdemona was paying attention now. "It's different than how religion is practiced back in my home. Certainly the gods don't take physical form where I'm from." Or possibly can't, though Penric is more likely to see that as something set into the world.

"Worshipping forces, asking them for boons, without considering the price, that must inevitably follow." He shook his head. "There is nothing good in that."

That was a strange bit of theology, Penric noted. "Where I'm from, supplications aren't commonly granted. Though often asked. When one has little other recourse, one appeals to the gods." And someone in the temple should notice and see if something could be done regardless if there was a direct answer. Far easier to use the mundane connections between people than for the gods to nudge things one way or another.

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