Quoted By:
You examine a distant memory. You recall a fervent recitation in a long-forgotten language, invoking epithets that no longer belong to you.
The prayer is one of:
>[GUIDANCE]
>[PROSPERITY]
>[JUSTICE]
+++
Grey clouds bloom across the slate-colored sky. Warm rainfall soaks into the ground, washing away the stubborn memory of winter frost.
The family turns the pungent earth and seeds the fields, while the hunter stalks the undergrowth with his snares and twanging yew-bow. The breeze and the dew grant them courtesy. Springtime dew-frost leaves crops untouched. Feather-fletched arrows part the wind with unerring precision.
Rainwater trickles through stone and pools slowly at the base of your shrine. The child visits when the rain abates, offering tiny gifts made from torn fabric.
[+1 FAITH]
>ROLL 2d20 + 2 [BREEZE/WIND]. Best of 3 for the thaw-harvest and hunt.
