I found myself at a loss for words, if only for a moment. Temples, like many other concepts in human society, were things that I knew about intellectually but had no experience with directly because warbreed lacked them in their own settlements. I looked at the woman, through the veil at her face underneath, and saw a mild expression. My initial snap decision was to leave as soon as possible to avoid causing any disruptions, but as I regained my footing I thought better of it. Cultural knowledge can help me fit in, I thought, it could still be months before I arrive at my destination, I need to be able to assimilate into this culture, at least a bit.

“That’s alright, I have no need to pray,” I replied to the woman after a pause. “Do you mind answering a few questions?”

“You do not look like a guard,” the woman said softly, almost mockingly. “This place is a temple, you should disregard the issues of the yehpmeyv world when you are here. If you do not wish to pray, I would request that you leave.” It was a polite, but very clear instruction. Maybe I could ask one of the humans meditating over by the statue, I thought, glancing over at them, I still have a few hours before I need to meet up with Koyl.

“I will stay,” I said, then I turned and approached the nearest human while the woman watched. He was an elderly man, very much like the elders of Suwlahtk in appearance, and was kneeling down muttering incoherently with his eyes closed. His palms lay flat on his thighs, facing upward, and the rest of his body was relaxed. I stayed near him for almost five minutes, waiting for him to break from his ritual, until the woman approached me again and tapped me on the shoulder.

“I think you should leave,” she whispered. Through the veil, I could see that her face was notably less placid than it had been before, though still not showing any signs of hostility. I opened my mouth to reply, and she placed her hand over it, then pointed to the door. After a moment she removed her hand, and we walked to the entrance of the temple. I can just wait here until one of the humans finishes, I thought, but the woman had other plans.

“What do you want with Zyoyhhayb?” she asked.

“If you won’t talk to me, someone else will,” I replied.

“You come here with weapons, and approach a man in prayer as you are, standing ready,” the woman stated. “I may be a priestess, but do not think me a fool. The gods frown upon the business of humans being done in a holy place.” Oh yes, I’m sure they do, I snorted quietly. “Perhaps you do not fear the gods of this land, but I doubt your own think differently,” the priestess added.

“Tell me about your gods,” I said, with just enough smugness to seem unintentional.

“You do not want to learn,” the priestess countered, “you want to mock and belittle, or perhaps use a conversation as an excuse to remain here for some reason. I have been kind to this point, but should you remain I will inform the city guard of your presence.”

“I thought the gods frowned upon the business of humans being done in temples,” I replied. “Surely, the laws of humans constitute such business. I have done no wrong here, and you’re assuming too much.” An odd sound, like a low growling groan, came from somewhere in the room, echoing off the walls. The priestess looked at me with an inquisitive expression.

“Are you hungry?” she asked, and I realized the sound had been my own stomach.

“I am,” I replied.

“If you would be willing to leave your weapons with me, there is food available in the temple for free,” the priestess informed me. Free? I thought, astonished, In a city with these food prices, they give it out for free? How is this place not filled to the brim with humans looking for a meal? Leaving my weapons wasn’t something I wanted to do, but there wasn’t anyone in the temple who looked strong enough to pose a threat to me.

“I’ll leave everything but my utility knives,” I countered.

“So distrustful,” the priestess tutted, “they will not leave their sheath, lest you incur divine wrath. Do you understand?”

“Agreed,” I nodded, and I began to take off my sword and spear, “be sure these are stored properly.”

The temple food was a crude mixture of grains, bones, and leftover plant matter, but it was nutritious. After disarming and handing the priestess my sword and spear, she carried them into a room to the left of the main antechamber which seemed to be a mess hall of some kind, dumping them in the corner. I sat at the bench, and within a few minutes she brought a bowl to me. She made no complaints as I finished it in around two minutes and requested seconds, then thirds. It’s free, I thought, I might as well eat as much as possible.

“Are you full?” the priestess asked once the fourth bowl was empty.

“Mostly,” I replied, “this food must cost very little if you give it out for free, where do you acquire the materials for it?” If I can source the components of this, I can at least solve part of my budget problem right now, I thought. The priestess frowned.

“To think you would insult awvyb after receiving so much,” she huffed. The word she used was strange, and I wasn’t sure how to translate it, so I assumed it was the name of the food. What about what I just said was an insult? I wondered.

“I found your awvyb to be quite good, which is why I ask,” I replied. “I am looking for low-cost ways to feed myself until I can find employment.”

“It is not my awvyb, sir, it is the temple’s awvyb which is given freely to those in need of it, that is why it is awvyb,” the priestess attempted to explain. I don’t really see how that matters, I thought, maybe it isn’t made by her then?

“Regardless of the ownership, I wish to replicate the recipe,” I said. “Where do you source the ingredients?”

“They are donations,” the priestess answered, “the day’s awvyb is made from whatever is given, and those who receive it take whatever is made.” For some reason, I could feel a small headache beginning behind my forehead.

“What does awvyb mean?” I asked, deciding to just cut to the core of the issue.

“It is a meal given out from a temple,” the priestess replied. “I am surprised that you have not heard of such a thing. It is a common practice in most temples across the world, at least to my knowledge.” So they entice people into coming to the temple with food, I considered, since the food is not of consistent quality, only the poor would likely take it, which serves a dual purpose of preventing starvation. The only question is, how do they pay for the temple? Surely it can’t all be through donations. “You say you are looking for work? Does this mean you are not here to collect on a debt, or perform some other task?” the priestess asked.

“No,” I denied flatly.

“Then why would you come to a temple armed?” The priestess asked, sounding confused. “Why would you approach a man in prayer with weapons?”

“I am always armed,” I replied. “Since you did not want to speak with me, I figured I would speak with one of the other humans in the temple.” The priestess’s face showed sadness at my first statement.

“Such a tragic world, where a man thinks nothing of carrying a tool of death into a place of peace,” she ruminated.

“I didn’t know it was a temple when I entered,” I explained, “I was just curious about the building.” If I keep her talking I might learn something, I thought. The priestess looked at me doubtfully, then smiled.

“I am inclined to believe you,” she said. “It is strange, but you seem to be telling the truth. My apologies, it seems I misunderstood you.” I blinked, trying to find an appropriate response. “Unfortunately, if you are looking for work, there is not much I know of for a man such as yourself,” she continued. “Should you be willing to help clean the temple I could offer food each day, but I suspect you want more gainful employment.”

“That would be correct, yes,” I nodded. “However, I wanted to talk to you about your people’s religion. I know very little about it.” The priestess’s eyebrows raised, then she chuckled.

“Well, sir, I suppose you found your way to where you were looking to go then,” she said. “I would be willing to talk to you for a while, but at the end, I would like you to consider a small donation to the temple.”

“Free food, but money for information,” I stated. What happened to the gods disliking human affairs? I wondered sarcastically.

“No,” the priestess disagreed, “you may leave without giving, but I would request that you do. It helps us maintain the temple, you see. The gods favor those who give without an expectation of reward.”

“Of course they do,” I said. “Let’s begin.”

For the next hour, the priestess explained to me the basics of her religion. As I had intuited from my time in Suwlahtk, she believed in a sort of alternate plane of reality in which the spirits of those who had died and those who had yet to live existed, alongside more powerful beings which she called gods. The statue in the antechamber was of two supposed gods, Roydlow and Tawvao. Roydlow was a god representing a number of combat-related concepts, and was credited with the invention of the sword and spear. Tawvao, his wife, was a goddess representing peace, education, diplomacy, civics, and was allegedly the inventor of writing and books. The priestess went into a short tale about the two and how they came to marry, but I ended up tuning most of it out since it was clearly fictional. I do recall Tkaol mentioning Roydlow, I thought, but I didn't know what she was referring to at the time.

I asked how many gods there were, which elicited a laugh as a reply. Supposedly, there were as many gods in the world as there were stars in the sky. My first instinct was to ask if that only included visible stars, but then my rational mind reminded me that the priestess was most likely using an idiom. She then went into an explanation about how one’s actions accrued a sort of debt when they were alive, which was paid back upon death by spirits and gods in the alternate plane. Valorous and righteous actions would cause one to experience many positive things after death, while the opposite would lead to supernatural punishment. Eventually, once the debt was consumed, the spirit would be wiped of its memories and incarnated once more to live a new life.

This explanation naturally progressed into a discussion about magic, and the beliefs surrounding it. The priestess was quick to correct my presumption that the “spirits” which allegedly manifested the effect were believed to be the same as the human “spirits” of the dead. Apparently, the spirits responsible for magic were specifically called ahvrb, and were the lowest and simplest form of spirit, too small and powerless to incarnate into a living body. These micro-spirits had no will of their own, existing in a sort of semi-conscious state which could be awoken by the prayers of the living, causing them to ensoul matter temporarily and cause the effect known as magic. At least, that was what I understood of the explanation, which was considerably more esoteric when recited verbatim.

Then, the conversation turned to Rehv.

“I will not speak of that abomination in a peaceful temple,” the priestess insisted, sounding as though she was holding back considerable anger.

“I’m not asking you to be polite about it,” I said. “I am not from this place, and I want to understand why it’s such an issue. A friend warned me that even speaking about Rehv could lead to violence. Why?”

“Because Rehv, and his followers, are a repugnant affront to the gods, spirits, and all that is good in the world,” the priestess spat. “They deny the divinity of all other gods, they deny tawpyyt debt, they deny the very notion of the spirit world itself! Their so-called god gives them license to commit all forms of evil with no repercussions, so long as they further his wicked faith in our world. They place themselves above others, viewing those who are not them as nothing more than animals. Such immoralities have already caused the slaughtering of innocents on more than one occasion, and even now those aligned with Rehv seek to undermine not only our nation, but our very way of life! I will speak no further of this, for it is not fit for civilized conversation.”

Not so different from the standard set of reasons warbreed use for killing each other, I thought grimly, staying silent as the priestess collected herself. Still, to disguise those reasons with such esoteric language... I suppose it's to be expected. I wonder if the creators did the same, or if these people are different somehow.