The Chained Watcher

Gazing Down From Above

So I was reading comments earlier, and my younger sister guessed purely off of my goofy grin, "Are you reading comments?" I don't know whether I'm supposed to be sheepish, aggrieved, or impressed.

~~~

Quaxel trails his fingers idly through the shimmering waters of his scrying pool, watching his predecessor return to the place he apparently arrived from. The place is quite fascinating, carrying a strange foreignness to it, as if it doesn't quite belong here, but he has greater priorities than studying this odd gravity-defying architecture right now.

Mainly, observing his predecessor and deepening his understanding of him.

He's not too worried, not with the non-aggression pact, but he still wants to get a proper measure of his personality and subconscious habits, just in case. It'll help him avoid riling up his anger, if nothing else.

Watching Grian skip towards what appears to be the center of operations for these 'players', Quaxel notes that he seems... more childish, than he had when speaking to him. His predecessor may have spoken to him with the lightness of whimsy and curiosity softening his presence, but now, it's as if the ancient being has returned to a deep slumber, leaving only a cheerful, almost childish mortal visible.

How strange...

Similarly strange is the reaction the strategists have to his arrival. Their dismay is clear. Some grasp their plans tightly, almost protectively, as if trying to protect them from him. Others throw their writing utensils at the wall, or at Grian, displaying open frustration. Some simply sag in despair, the type of despair of one who has recognized the arrival of the inevitable.

Rather smugly, Grian announces his presence in the same way as one who knows they've brought despair and revels in it. "Hello, boys! Guess who just got back from their first trip to see the local population?"

One of the despairing ones asks defeatedly, "What did you find this time..."

Grian's grin grows. "Oh, nothing much... Did you know that this place's main religion has a fully realized god?"

Confused eyes stare at him. "...Explain," one of them commands.

Despite being commanded like a subordinate, his predecessor shows no anger, happily explaining, "Their god is real! Like, real real, not the False god type of real. A being created and sustained through the Faith of their followers, born in the shape of the image worshiped. The religion is pretty deeply rooted in this place's culture too, so this is an old god we're talking about."

Several strategists begin glumly crossing out parts of their written plans. "Alright... Chances of the locals attempting to force us to convert?" Despite their weary expressions, they still focus on what is important. The safety of their subordinates. Good.

"Pretty much zero. The religion is prevalent, but not overbearing, and with the god in question being a merchant god, interactions with non-believers are plenty common enough to prove that they aren't pushy about converting."

"And how likely are our players to tick off the god?"

Grian thinks for a second. "Hmm... Not too likely, I don't think. Just don't pick a fight with their priests and it shouldn't be a problem. And though it shouldn't need saying, messing with any temples is also a no-go."

"Good. Now scram, before you can remember anything else that'll ruin our plans further."

Grian leaves with a mischievous giggle, and Quaxel's thoughts turn inward. He is entirely willing to treat these 'players' just as kindly as he does the rest of the sapients he's seen. He's just wondering whether or not any of them might stumble across the First Temple.