Among the flowers of the clearing in the middle of Vilja’s forest, was a boat. Well-crafted by someone who clearly knew what they were doing, the cedar planks were expertly fit together and treated to avoid rot. No doubt it glided over the surface of the water with grace and minimal resistance. However, none of this had helped its previous owner when a sudden storm had surprised him, and the waves overturned the beautiful boat. The owner had lost his life in this incident almost immediately, but the boat kept drifting along the currents until it eventually ended up in a certain god’s domain. This god had taken a liking to the small craft, and was now sitting in its bow, casting a fishing line into the lake of flowers around them and munching on bread.

“There’s so much fucking bread! It’s not even funny anymore…” Vilja wailed and tossed the lump in her hand into the distance. While the bread did provide her an unending source of sustenance, the bread-only diet quickly grew old and she began to pine for food she had eaten in her mortal form.

Seated at the stern of the boat was Sylvia, and on her lap rested the core of the so-called cancer god. “You are aware that you do not need to eat it, right? You can just consume it like everything else.” Sylvia pointed out. She was already feeling slightly better and could walk around the forest without it draining too much of her powers, having even briefly gone back to her own realm to prepare it for what would come if her plan worked, but initiating it would have to wait until her connection to her followers was fully restored. In the meantime, she was more than happy to just observe Vilja’s growth into her new position.

Suddenly something pulled on Vilja’s fishing rod with enough force to almost rip it from the god’s hands and even after she had gotten her bearings and began to fight back, the catch almost toppled the boat for a second time. With significant effort Vilja emerged victorious and lifted her hook from the flowerbed, dangling from it was a small wooden horse. The toy was crudely carved from a single piece of wood and lacked detail to a point where it was hard to tell whether it actually was a horse and not a goat, dog, cow or some other four-legged animal, but Vilja seemed nonetheless excited about it and proudly presented it to her fellow god.

“You have the forgotten treasures of the mortal world in your hands, but yet you find joy in this small piece of wood… Curious…” Sylvia said and slowly clapped.

“Nonono you don’t understand! This wasn’t given to me, I took it! This was the first toy made for a child by his father and once very dear to him, but now the child is all grown up. He was really reluctant to forget this thing, but I got it!” Vilja explained enthusiastically before letting her hair grab it and store it for later use.

“Quite a catch indeed.” Sylvia smiled. “I am overjoyed that you seem to enjoy your role, I was afraid you would get bored of it.”

“It’s alright, I suppose. There are a few things I miss though… like coffee. I keep trying to make some, but it never comes out the way I like it. I think I’ve forgotten the taste.” Vilja lamented and cast the line back into the flowerbed.

Sylvia laughed heartily. “Just go drink some then.”

“Yeah, I’d like to, but honestly I’d rather make sure Anastacia isn’t in Valor when I go there…” The new god sighed and leaned back against the bow of the boat. “It’d be weird and turn into a huge deal if people knew I was a god.”

“You really need to learn how to follow time... Unless she grew wings, the necromancer is still on her way back from Ebonywatch. If anything, now is your time.” The goddess of joy sighed. Though it may have felt like months or years to a god, only a day had passed in the mortal realm. “And Vilja, you are a god, you can be a huge deal if you so wish. It may be unconventional for us, but there is no one who can stop you from just going. Please do put on some clothes if people are going to see you though.”

Without a word Vilja punched a hole through the plane, ripped it open and climbed in.

Rosie was leaning against the counter and nervously scratched it with her claw, making the few guests in the tavern nervous as well. It was the eighth night since Gilbert and his party had left for the quest and they should have been back by now. She knew fully well that quests always took longer than planned but still couldn’t help herself from worrying over them. Every time the door opened she got her hopes up for a couple of seconds, before immediately getting disappointed when it turned out to be one of the other regulars. This negatively affected the quality of the service: guests were told to return their dishes by themselves and come up to the counter to get growled at while ordering something. Dammar and his party had already returned and were celebrating their success in the corner table, being more used to the innkeeper than most, they knew well to fetch their own drinks from the kitchen without bothering the tigress.

When the door opened once more, Rosie got her hopes up like the fifty-seven times before it, and when in came someone she didn’t recognize, her mood just worsened. The newcomer was wearing tattered old robes and curiously no shoes. Their small size and clear attempt to avoid recognition by keeping their hood up despite being inside suggested that it was just another runaway kid that had escaped their circumstances to Valor; but at this point, Rosie couldn’t give a shit. If they really needed something, they would come to the counter for it. The guest sat down at an empty table with their back towards the rest of the inn.

“That one isn’t alive…” Xamiliere suddenly said to her friends and nodded towards the mysterious guest looking slightly nervous, which was rare for the spriggan.

Dammar took a quick glance. “Undead? No, can’t be. They don’t sit down and wait to be served. Should we tell Rosie?” He whispered and put his hand on his weapon.

“I have no idea what it is, but there’s no spirit, no life, no… nothing.” The spriggan tried to explain, but the way she saw things translated poorly into words.

“Max, go tell Rosie, but don’t let her do anything rash. Let’s just wait and see what happens, maybe it just came here for a drink.” The dwarf decided. “Keep your guards up, just in case.”

The silent elf left the table and leaned against the counter to inform the innkeeper about the mysterious guest. While Maximillian did his best to talk in a hushed tone to avoid being overheard, Rosie couldn’t have cared less and intensely glared at the person in question. As an hour passed, the other patrons left for their rooms or whatever nightly business they had, but the suspicious person neither left nor came up to order anything.

“Okay. Fuck this, I’m done.” Rosie declared and walked over, completely ignoring the silent warnings from the adventurers. “Look at how small she is, why exactly is this kid worrying you guys so much?” She snarled and picked the person up by the back of their robe.

Xamiliere kicked their table over and pulled Dammar behind it for cover, but when nothing happened, she slowly peeked over it to see Rosie effortlessly dangling an almost demonic looking child with black eyes and sharp teeth. Maximillian had prepared to tackle the girl away from Rosie, but as she didn’t seem to mind being lifted, he had sheathed his dagger and was now trying to figure out what they were dealing with.

“What the shit Rosie?! Who does that when they’re told something might be really dangerous?!” The spriggan yelled, refusing to come out from behind the table. Unlike King, who didn’t differ all that much from how rocks looked like to her, the girl was something Xamiliere couldn’t understand and it terrified her.

“I do.” The annoyed tigress said and took a look at the child. “Now then, what are you and what are you doing in my inn this late?”

“My name is Vilja and this is a robbery!” The girl declared grandly.

“No, it’s not.” Rosie stated, like she was simply correcting what Vilja had said.

“Okay then, change of plans… My name is Vilja and as a god, I’ve come to demand a tribute from all of you!” Vilja declared again. “And coffee...”

Rosie put Vilja back down and returned to her position behind the counter. “No matter who or what you are, this is my inn and in here you order your coffee like everyone else does. Will you take anything else with it?”

Vilja shook her head and sat back down, this time facing the rest of the tavern. Curious about the self-declared god, Dammar sat down with her and Maximillian followed suit. Only Xamiliere refused to face her and preferred staying behind the cover. When the god noticed Dammar packing his pipe, she took out her own and lit them both by snapping her fingers. The dwarf noted that he knew someone with a similar, terrible pipe and advised against using it. He could also easily spot that the god was an amateur pipe smoker and was willing to share some pointers, at least until Rosie returned with the coffee and put out Vilja’s pipe.

“You’re too young to smoke.” She explained while pouring coffee for the god and herself. The tigress had figured that joining the conversation would be a good way to pass time while waiting for Holly to come and take over the counter.

“I’m literally ageless!” Vilja exclaimed.

Rosie calmly took a sip of coffee before answering. “No. Not in my inn you’re not. Now, explain yourself.”

Realizing she had no actual plan, Vilja was forced to come up with an explanation on the fly. “Uh… I’ve come here to… uh… gather tributes for Sylvia to ensure the safe return of your friends Anastacia, Gilbert and Emilia! Any odd item will do.” While awkwardly trying to come up with a reasonable sounding explanation, she took out the toy horse she had acquired earlier and dunked it into the coffee. The two tastes complemented each other surprisingly well, though the wood didn’t really soak up the coffee like Vilja had wished it would.

“The lass knows them by name. I reckon she’s a genuine god…” Dammar pointed out and placed his worn-out pouch of tobacco on the table. “Would this suit your tastes? There’s a small hole in it, but it’s all I really have on me.”

“Yes… There doesn’t seem to be a reason to not contribute. Would this do?” Maximillian reasoned and offered an arrow from his quiver. Its tip had been dulled and chipped, making it almost useless.

The purple flames in Vilja’s eyes danced happily as she inspected the items. Obviously pleased by the offerings, she hid them inside her robes and turned to Rosie looking like she expected something great from the tigress.

“Well, if it is to get them back safely…” She growled and took off one of her hair ties. As the god reached out to get it, Rosie grabbed her hand and whispered in her ear. “If something happens to them, I’ll find you and keelhaul you until I find a way to drown a god.”

Impressed by how casually Rosie was willing to threaten a god for her friends and genuinely worried about it, Vilja slid the third tribute under her robes. There was only one more left to get. The goddess hastily downed the rest of her coffee and turned her attention to the spriggan that was still hiding from her. The idea of terrorizing the usually carefree Xamiliere was far too tempting to resist and with a snap of her fingers, Vilja removed the effect of gravity on the spriggan, who helplessly floated over her cover.

“Guys… Help! HELP! HEEEEEEEEEELP!” Xamiliere screamed in panic while lazily floating towards the grinning god. Any attempts to grow vines to grab onto something caused her to spin and tangled the vines back around herself. When she finally was within Vilja’s reach, the screaming had changed into cursing in the spriggan language. She cursed both the goddess and her friends who just watched from the side, amused by the whole thing.

Vilja snapped a small twig from the spriggan’s horns and pushed her towards the other side of the room. “That’s all I need from you guys. The coffee was great like always! But now I must bid you farewell, my time here is limited and there’s one more thing I need to get.” She said and just left through the door like any mortal guest would have.

The tavern became very quiet all of a sudden. A few adventurers appeared in the staircase to see what all the screaming was about, but Rosie just sent them back to their rooms. Dammar, Maximillian and Rosie just sat in silence and digested everything that had just happened.

“Interesting indeed… We just met a god, huh?” Dammar said, breaking the silence.

Rosie started to gather the empty bottles to busy her hands while thinking. “She didn’t pay for the coffee…”

“Screw all of you!” Xamiliere grumbled from the corner of the room where she had floated to while shedding off the drying vines.