The shining form of Sarenrae arrives on flaming wings. "What is it you ask?"
Skaar stares in disbelief at the image of the goddess before him in her true form. The big Orc is at a loss for words, though he feels a bit of shame for the misplaced anger he'd had toward her when she showed up after the shipwreck. He glances at the enormous beast crushing Zia while latching its jaws onto Nicatha's slim torso, knowing he cannot hope to fight it.
"Can you do it? Can you save us again, like when Jitty wrecked the ship? Take us someplace safe, where we can figure out where we need to be to do some good", the hulking greenskin says solemnly, feeling utterly powerless.
"And show me what I've gotta do keep this from happenin' again."
"You do not serve me, Skaar. In fact, you believed I was a harlot giving myself freely to Rando," Sarenrae says. "You have never thanked the gods for what you have been given, relying on your own strength and believing yourself greater than any opponent. When I saved you from Jitty, I was also saving Rando, my devout follower. You were yet unmolded, but these past few months have been telling of your pride and your stubbornness. You have been spared from death twice, but it doesn't seem like it has taught you anything except to think that you are immortal."
She sighs, the flames from her wings flickering in the darkness. "You ask me to save four lives. What will I get in return?"
"Ya need to take over caring for the shrine, at least until ya can find someone who can do it as well as the Father did. This should help. And if anyone asks, it was Hanely that broke up the Skulls. They've gotta know that one man's courage can make the difference."
"I didn't know", Skaar mutters. "And when you showed yourself, I blamed you 'cause I was angry with myself for my own weakness - my own failin's. I'm sorry for that."
The big Orc thinks back to his time on the sea, in Brassport and Denaren's Corpse, and within the Temple of the Crane.
"In the last few months I have learned a lot, 'bout forgivin' myself for my past, the difference between power and strength, and 'bout havin' people that you care for around", he says, thinking briefly about Corda and the vision of his unborn child.
"But I'll never be strong 'nuff alone. I need to be somethin' more. I need your help. I think... I think it was you helpin' me all along."
"What will you do for me?" Sarenrae asks again.
"I'll serve you like Rando did before he died. The war's over but there's still hope on Zhavroma. We can make things right again."
Skaar frowns at the realization that he wasn't quite sure where he was in relation to Zhavroma anymore but the meaning was there.
"Rando still serves me in death," Sarenrae asks. "Words of humility mean little when a person is faced with death. If you wish to serve, then you must start from the beginning."
Puzzled, Skaar frowns. "What do ya mean?"
"You must feed the poor, clothe the naked, shelter the homeless and minister to the downtrodden. This is what Rando did in my name when he began to serve me. That is what I ask of you," Sarenrae says. "If you want my redemption, then I want you to prove your humility."
"As long as I can still help my friends, I'll do your work wherever I go."
"I will let your friends make their own choice, but my service will be rendered first," Sarenrae says sternly.
"My thanks, Nicatha." The name sounded strange to her, but there was nothing odd about the magical healing she had; it worked just as well as Zia's. Yet while the woman's magic was powerful, it was clearly not strong enough to render this threat trivial.
"Skaar, I did not hear the call as a test of mettle, but more a test of survival. I prefer those trials kept to a minimum." She walks over to one of the bodies, rolling it face-up with her foot. "Renji is the expert here. If she sees they are without honor and will simply hunt us all the while here, then we are better off ending them now."
Zia places a hand over the mouth of her rotated orc and begins conjuring water with a word. The clear liquid flows into the creature's mouth for a moment before flowing over its lips. "If you would like a test of ability, there lies a dragon ahead."
Whatever goodness was wrought by Nicatha's magic was undone, her arm popping out of its socket as she was ruthlessly grabbed by the linnorm.
Just when she thought her time had come, Sarenrae herself appeared before them. Magnificent! Zia and her people were decidedly not worshipers of the Dawnflower; she was more commonly held in high regard with undines of shallower waters, and as those sects feuded often, she was more of a heretical religion than anything. It was more of a wash for Zia herself, however, as she said her prayers primarily to Gozreh, and the dual lord of nature had no qualm with the goddess of the sun.
It seemed she had some sort of a connection with Skaar. The two were having ... an argument? No, not quite ... but it was surreal to see a divine negotiating with a mortal. His strength truly must be otherworldly. There was a story there.
But for now, she needed to weave a different story to save her skin.
"Тхе Редеемер ис хере. Ше дид нот цоме ат јур ћал. Вхиле ше макеш хер овн чоићеш, кнов тхис: Годдессеш дон'т аппеар ин ваин. Јоу воулд до вел то лет ус леаве ин пеаце. Афтер ал - ше чаме вхен ве вере мерелј ин дангер. И воулд нот вант то бе јоу иф венгеанце неед бе такен фор ур ливес."
Zia was careful enough not to implicate Sarenrae at their beck and call, but the clear relationship Skaar had could be extrapolated by the Linnorm for the rest of them. I hope.