Ordurlee was fed up, he had intended to stall the gods a little to buy his friend a little time when it hit him, he was having a harder time remembering Drizul. That shouldn’t be happening, and the fact that it was warranted a great deal of investigation. Investigation he couldn’t do alone.

With a moment’s hesitation he reached into his desk and pulled out a small statue, then called for his companion Neyt to prep precisely 33.5 ml of blood, human, fresh, but making sure it was from a living human, or equivalent humanoid species. A 3.5 ml bottle of blue ink, and the ceremonial Ledretter (divinity edition of course) pen. He also requested biscuits and a cup of coffee made to optimum temperature, using the finest cheap coffee. (Believe me it takes a lot of effort to make a good, bad cup of coffee. Far more than the requirement for a really genuinely good cuppa, or a genuinely terrible one. The key was in making it taste like it had percolated in an uncles gym socks for precisely 2 weeks, passed through a really poor quality filter, and to leave just enough grounds in the bottom of the cup to classify it as a small country estate, but you can NOT use instant, instant for this task is considered to be an act of high sacrilege.) and some cheap bagels, (with cream cheese that is so far removed from the origin the closest encounter would probably be that the maker once glanced at a cow in passing) with unidentified green “herbs” (it is never specified what the “herbs" were and given the lack of flavour they could have been anything. Ordurlee always suspected the most likely candidate was lawn clippings, but even the gods couldn’t say for sure.)

That done he took the ink and meticulously drew in ink, and blood mixed on the floor what we can only call the most precise sacred circle in the history of ritual. (He even used a massive wheel adjusted compass and protractor to ensure the angles were correct, this wasn’t the kind of ritual where you could scribble out your mistakes, and nobody really makes ritual approved white out or blotting paper anyway.) Then he took a tape measure, and a sliding rule, and precisely dedicated and chalked out a footprint area meticulously tailored to fit the unremarkable effigy. Making sure that there was a margin of error of less than .5 of a millimetre.

That done he started the ritual, he couldn’t figure out what was going on without help. However his predecessor could very well have the answers he sought, though this was going to get a lot more complicated before the day was done.

“We the invoker of this divine contract, (who will hereafter, for purposes of this meeting will be referred to as party a. until the invocation is completed,) hereby invoke the unnamed former deity of bureaucrats, clerks, scribes, accountants, and miscellaneous documentation careers, (hereafter to be referred to as party b until the conclusion of this meeting) to provide relevant information to party a. re. the issue of a missing deity. As stipulated in employment contract recorded on the date 0.0.0000 in the calendar of creation.

In exchange for information provided by party a. to party b. party a. will provide provisions in the form of miscellaneous foodstuffs, including but not limited to Jitterbugs coffee, and Bagels. Furthermore a blood and ink offering will be provided to party b. foodstuffs and offerings to be consumed at invocation site (hereafter referred to as the divine mount.) Or any other location of Party b.s choosing.”

A dotted line appeared in the circle clearly labelled Sign here, and the form was completed.

There was a meaningful cough from the circle and Ordurlee noticed the bagels were out of reach. he nudged them closer until suddenly the room became a lot more crowded.

From the circle a figure appeared in the most eyesearingly bright short sleeved shirt Ordurlee had ever seen, a battered straw hat, white shorts, and a pair of sandals with white gym socks underneath (who even does that). Ordurlee noticed with approval though that he had not forgotten his origin. He was wearing on top of the offensively garish shirt a meticulously ironed, and carefully pinned tie.

“You do realise that I’m retired right?” Party b. grumbled, sipping the coffee with a grimace, then drinking it down anyway.

“I am aware, but there has been a complication,”

“Complication as in world ending, or complication as in some bugger keeps stealing the office stapler,” (at the thought of those missing staplers Party b. suppressed a shudder.)

“Midway, we have a missing deity.”

“Nothing odd about that, gods go missing all the time, usually there’s a pregnant mortal and an angry wife and/or husband involved.”

“This time it’s different.”

“Different?”

“Drizul the God of Rain has gone missing”

“Ah,”

“Ah?”

“I am contractually bound not to discuss this matter, as per union regulations, we cannot discuss the personal matters of union members during an ongoing labour dispute.”

“ohhhh ah indeed in that case. Thank you for your time, as per the contract the offerings are yours to take with you, this has been enlightening.”

At that Party b. gave a slight nod to Ordurlee, and then disappeared in a flurry of meticulously recorded minutes.

“Oh Bugger, I knew it would get complicated, but I didn’t think it had escalated that much.” Muttered Ordurlee to himself, he knew his predecessor couldn’t say much in the circumstances, but he had said enough. Drizul was up to something big. He remembered last time Drizul had tried something this drastic, but compared to this the great flooing was nothing but a childish prank gone too far.

Party b. had gone to great effort to say nothing, and it is amazing how many clues could be packed into a well worded nothing. Ordurlee pulled out all his notes so far, and a pinboard, and got to work.