"I've no idea. Souls do not seem like a thing that could be sold, let alone 'inherited.' But it would be very satisfying, no?"

"Honestly, not really. Contract devils do what they do like any other monster. And he paid me for it. I didn't even get completely ripped off the way some people do. It might be satisfying to drag my father out of Hell; it was his setup."

"Well, patricide or devilslaying, I've no issue with either. I've a mind to earn enough circles to become an archdruid either way."

"I suppose it might be a mercy to call the man up and end him, in a way... I'm not sure if that makes it more or less satisfying."

They reach the temple of Erastil. Aniol goes in, comes out again and shows her inside to where they've put together many small tables to make one big one for her.

She'll need ten minutes chanting in order to make it, but soon enough: banquet. It's a bit more showy than Create Food and Water.

For all that she asked there be a single large table for this, it doesn't seem to require it; each of the small tables gets a differently colored leaf patterned tablecloth. They seem to be seasonal themed, with the different tables having different sorts of foods based on the associated season. Spring involves a lot of fruits and nuts and berries, summer is a lot of meat and fish and fresh vegetables, autumn breads and cheeses and pies and soups, and winter has desserts, some of them frozen, and various fruity drink refreshments. Neatly stacked plates and utensils are provided; they are a strange sort of wood, like the trees themselves decided to grow into the lovingly patterned plates and bowls and whatever else. There are also napkins, which. Just seem to be leaves, actually, if leaves that are very soft and good for actually being napkins could theoretically be found in nature.

"Eat to your taste over what seems most nutritionally sound; the magic is built to fill in the nutritional gaps of those that eat, regardless of if you have a balanced diet or gorge yourself on the desserts," she says, stepping away and letting everyone ravage the feast. "It will last for an hour."

The Erastilians have a lot of people and they can all get through the buffet, shooed by clerics if they linger over the table too long.

Aniol looks at the food for a while and then picks up a bowl and fills it with sorbet; a lot of the people have never seen sorbet and they're going for the pies and meat preferentially.

Voshrelka herself doesn't touch it, just perches nearby and is very obviously the druid responsible for this druid based feast. She works on copying over some maps, while she's perched nearby. Not being a wizard, it is of course by hand.

He'd offer to have his man Scriven it for her but Dídac is dead.

"Does the feast only last while you're near?" he asks.

"No, I'm free to wander off. But the point is to be a helpful druid. So it behooves me to be around and appear responsible and such." She looks the opposite of thrilled by this.

"Ah. Rehabilitating your image. It's got to be nearly as annoying as rehabilitating a soul."

"More so, I'd argue. I can't even kill anything for it, not really, and it's more than just me at stake."

"Do you want me to stay and engage you in conversation so no one else tries to?"

".... Absolutely. Thank you."

"It's no trouble at all, I'm somewhat at a loose end now that everyone I brought with me to the city is dead and the house where all my books were has been torched. Though I suppose the rain might have saved them, if it got there before the roof caved in, I've not checked."

You know what, she respects that sort of straightforward and brutal honesty.

"I hope it was. I suspect that the Plant Growth circuit maps I gave to another delegate might've been lost in a similar manner. So." She motions to the map she's copying over.

"Another step of the image rehabilitation plan? I suppose even if you didn't obviously abhor Abadarans for some reason it'd be less effective at that particular goal to auction the castings."

"Quite. Also I've no idea what I'd do with the money anyway. Who would I buy things from, the woodland animals? They're more easily bought with nuts."

"If you really wanted to know, I'm sure the Abadarans would tell you even if you made faces at them the entire time."

"Not particularly. They're..." She traces a bit of coastline as she tries to find the words. "... in my experience, they seem of the mind that if something is not translated into money, it should be, and if it can't, then oh well, it should be anyway. On top of how the coins and dollars themselves change and aren't accepted in different places, or have different values for the same coin in different places, or need to be changed to something else, or whatever else have you. And money is all made up anyway, but they pretend it's the realest thing of all." She shrugs. "I prefer dealing in tangible things."

"I like Abadarans. Not because I especially have any of those intuitions, but because -

- they're allowed to want things. It's not a trait most churches have in such abundance, the being allowed to want things. I can imagine having lived my life that way with many fewer implausible changes to the past than I can if I try to imagine having been an Iomedaean or a Shelynite or an Erastilian."

"That part of Abadar is at least intelligible to me," she agrees. "Even if what they want is for me to play pretend with them that coins have value because it's 'economically enriching.' But... why would you imagine your life as if you had values that weren't your own?"

"Oh, but you overestimate how much my values have been at play in my life as it's gone so far."

"Mm. A fair point, with Asmodeus and his ilk. My intended point is more... it is very easy, to get lost in 'what could have beens.' But they change nothing, really. Is there something wrong with you as you are? Besides the," she waves vaguely, "inane soul debt hanging over your head."

"Oh, I think it's mostly that. If that were sorted out I could give a lot of money to charity, abdicate in favor of... probably one of the girls, actually, they'll get along best with the new administration... and retire somewhere to do good works. But I find it hard to engage spiritually with any instructions that seem... incognizant of the facts of the world as I moved through it."

Nod.

"But... you are feeling pressured to engage with Good gods and their rhetoric anyway, because everyone is insisting on pretending that the world isn't as it was, and everyone can just be better again, if they just try hard enough. When it can't. Do I have that right?"