"You bow your head in service, in humility"
You serve the Lord of Death and yet still grant offerings to others?
He may wait as long as he likes but the Lord of Death is merely that - it has always been a fool's game to place all of your Faith in the palms of only one, narrow-scoped divine.
Mm....
Eve left the Red Crown to its musing as she pulled out the pouch she'd been collecting the gold of the rival cultists in. She could see nothing wrong with attempting to begin currying favor with a divine outside of the bishops of the Old Faith (which, she mused to herself - included Waiting One below) - it would reassure her to know she had another god invested in her survival while she performed this modified contract of a quest for the Waiting One. So she scanned the information written on the tree, observing the various bags left behind by even servants of the Old Faith based on the symbols and colors used for the coin-pouches littering the little clearing.
A small offering from a humble lamb, they signed and poured a small amount of the coins into the entangled portion of branches that looked like interlaced palms.
She was only slightly surprised to watch the coins glow softly before dissolving into dust. She was much more surprised to watch the vague scowl on the face of the tree-trunk seem to... soften and the intimidating red hollows that looked like eyes began burning with warm, yellow light.
In place of the small pile of gold the sheep had poured in appeared a veritable cornucopia of berries and meat as the light from the tree disappeared.
Thank you Beast, you are ever virtuous, Eve signed appreciatively and extended her hoof. The crown gave the mental equivalent of a sigh and took on its pouch form, allowing the ewe to gather the kindly granted food to transport back to the cult as she quickly left the room. She released the Red Crown to return to her head. That was nice. I think I will continue to leave offerings - I will have plenty of gold from defeating followers of the Old Faith, it's not like I can't spare any.
You are strange and undevout.
I do not recall ever swearing my devotion to the One Who Waits.
The crown seemed to start at this.
But... you act in service of him.
I am merely repaying a debt - the Chained God granted me a second chance at life in exchange for building his cult. I am assembling his cult and when that is complete, I had intended to continue my own solo journey. I have no stake in the squabbles between gods - those that do oft end up like this.
She motioned to the body of an already deceased cultist, body far along the path of decomposition and seemingly abandoned rot by his fellows and scavengers alike. The sheep crouched, allowing the red crown to become a dagger she recalled seeing one of the rival cultists with and began the painstaking process of prying the bones from the carcass to collect.
You hold fear that you would end as this heretic did?
Crimson Lord, I hold certainty that I would, they said calmly. They were getting better at this, faster and more efficient. They were already done with the rib-cage and moving onto the tedious, time-consuming task of collecting the tiny bones in the neck. She sent a flood of power into the body, trying to loosen the sinewy grip of the mortal flesh as much as possible. The gods of these lands are selfish creatures and often, the reward for being the most devout is being the first to die an agonizing death. Think of Amdusias and Valefor.
The Crimson Eye remained silent as she carved, skinned and tugged the bones free from the unlucky stag laying at her feet.
