There was that 'Jigs,' again, and his smile flickered a little towards a wince. Her wisdom was such that he might have argued with it a year ago, but Caido had come to change him in some ways, enough that he had come to treasure such clear-eyed optimism and certainty, and he bowed his head in acceptance of her words, smile lingering. "That's not a bad thing," he murmured a little wistfully.
"Just be yourself," he suggested with a chuckle. "You haven't chosen one or the other among any of them, and they seem eager to gather followers who remain undecided. I suspect you'll have little trouble, though..." He shrugged ruefully. "The gods are fickle, every one of them. And they've got a lot of prayers to answer, so don't lose heart just because they don't answer the first time or two." It was becoming easier to accept how active the gods of Caido were compared to those he had grown up with, but it had taken more than a year to earn that familiarity.
Her concerns were well-founded, he thought, nodding gravely at her nervous chuckle. "Possibly," he admitted, "But don't count the old gods out. Or yourself, for that matter. Maybe you can adapt your skills to working with natural materials, like wood and stone?" he suggested. "And how many offerings you make depends on what you want in return." His smile quirked back up, wry humor in his gaze. "If you think you're going to be asking for favors now and again, leaving regular offerings is a good way to sweeten the tempers of any and all of them. If you're going to try and avoid their notice, then it's less important. Some people pray every day to all of the old gods, others only on festivals or to specific gods, and some only when they want something special." He shrugged again. "It's up to you, what you're most comfortable with."
"Just be yourself," he suggested with a chuckle. "You haven't chosen one or the other among any of them, and they seem eager to gather followers who remain undecided. I suspect you'll have little trouble, though..." He shrugged ruefully. "The gods are fickle, every one of them. And they've got a lot of prayers to answer, so don't lose heart just because they don't answer the first time or two." It was becoming easier to accept how active the gods of Caido were compared to those he had grown up with, but it had taken more than a year to earn that familiarity.
Her concerns were well-founded, he thought, nodding gravely at her nervous chuckle. "Possibly," he admitted, "But don't count the old gods out. Or yourself, for that matter. Maybe you can adapt your skills to working with natural materials, like wood and stone?" he suggested. "And how many offerings you make depends on what you want in return." His smile quirked back up, wry humor in his gaze. "If you think you're going to be asking for favors now and again, leaving regular offerings is a good way to sweeten the tempers of any and all of them. If you're going to try and avoid their notice, then it's less important. Some people pray every day to all of the old gods, others only on festivals or to specific gods, and some only when they want something special." He shrugged again. "It's up to you, what you're most comfortable with."
