Dygra
The shrine continues to hum with Dygra's presence as Maea peels off her clothes and dresses herself anew in the armour she's worked so hard to forge, fabric whisperng sweetly across the stone when she's finished. "There were many events celebrated in my honour, though never at the same marching intervals as other gods." The goddess's voice pulses from the walls and the stone beneath the Ancient's knees.
That sort of regular drumbeat of worship is anathema to everything Dygra is, after all.
"Most famed is the Blood Moon Festival, which has occurred here once already since my reawakening. I sense another occasion may be approaching soon, also." A smile curls in her voice. "I am sure the priestess of this very Temple may be able to share further elements of worship with you, though as I say, I am not a doctrine." And nor is she one to be celebrated one day and forgotten all the rest.
That sort of regular drumbeat of worship is anathema to everything Dygra is, after all.
"Most famed is the Blood Moon Festival, which has occurred here once already since my reawakening. I sense another occasion may be approaching soon, also." A smile curls in her voice. "I am sure the priestess of this very Temple may be able to share further elements of worship with you, though as I say, I am not a doctrine." And nor is she one to be celebrated one day and forgotten all the rest.
