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>The civilisation gets -5 Cohesion and Happiness.
It is decided. The blessed Sitrun shall go to the lesser tribes, accompanied by a retinue of her most fanatical followers, and demonstrate her gift to them. Once they have witnessed the power of the Allmother, they shall surely abandon their foolish ways and accept that the worship of An is the only sane path forward.
The messenger is told to return to his people with a request – the sealskins shall arrange a great gathering of their people, preferably in the form of a feast, so that they might witness the miracle of An for themselves and realise that the beast-bringing tribe is favoured by the divine.
Once more, Glotradan and those who follow her will are frustrated by the decision that has been made. The high priestess believes that sending Sitrun so deep into the territory of those who do not believe will result in her life being endangered – and she might have been right.
After a couple of weeks, Sitrun crosses the Choslitol with dozens of devotees as her heralds and her guardians. She ventures into the territory of the Toprocravic tribe, where she is met by a great congregation of sealskins. Though many of them are sceptical, the message that was sent to them piqued their interest. What could possibly be so holy about this strange young woman?
Sitrun answers that question by ridding herself of her garments and taking a hive of honey bees out of a clay jar. She breaks the honeycomb apart and allows the hundreds of insects inside to pour over her body, along with the honey contained within. Yet even if as she is swarmed by a legion of buzzing bees, she makes no sound. She is not stung nor does she flinch, even as the sealskins cringe away from the cloud of insects that surrounds her. Truly, she is favoured by the Allmother.
The Toprocravic people are torn in half by this revelation. Half of them are astonished by this display of Sitrun's gift and fall to their knees in reverence of this blessed creature. Yet the other half are appalled by the sight – they do not see Sitrun as a holy woman, but as something bizarre and inhuman, to be shunned and shamed.
The exchange between her new adherents and her detractors grows heated, but when one of her critics takes it upon himself to throw a stone that narrowly misses the head of Sitrun, all hell breaks lose. The fanatics who followed the holy woman into the land of the Toprocravic draw their knives and rush to her defence, as do the many sealskins who have fallen under her spell. What follows is a night of violence and hysteria, as the Toprocravic people tear themselves apart.
>Give me three rolls of dice+1d100. I'll accept the best of three.
>You will need to beat a target number of 55. The more you beat it by, the greater your victory. The more you lose by, the greater your loss.
