"No, I mean—knowledge of the existence of magic and other worlds would change a lot of things, cause a rapid shift in everyone's priorities."

"Right now, I'm just learning enough theory to be able to do magic at all. Longer term, I'm interested in divination and polymorph spells. Divination just seems like it's incredibly useful in general, and I think polymorphing would be a lot of fun. I'll also have to learn a lot of combat stuff to be able to grow, of course, but I figure there is already a lot known about how best to do that."

"Ah, yes, I see. You said you had no weight as well? You'll have a massive rash of adventurers, then, that'll play out very interestingly. Do you think you'll cope? I've heard of enough regimes here toppled by adventurers the ruler was ignoring, and that's when the ruler used to be one!"  

"Divination is good, very useful if you can use it well. One of my cousins is a diviner. Polymorph is a bit out of our weight class for now, but one can always be ambitious! Have you decided what reserve-ritual you'll be doing?" 

"Yeah, there will probably be several million, at least. But I don't think there will be any revolutions, if that's what you mean."

"I have not decided yet. I still don't have a great idea of what options I have available, and I don't need to choose anytime soon."

"I'm glad you're that confident in the benevolence of your state! It speaks well of them, even if I have trouble believing it."

"Wow, okay, you are early in your training. I figured you were just like half the people here, and using training as excuse to never actually get up and leave. No offence." 

"I arrived in the city a month and a half ago, decided I was going to learn magic on my second day here, started studying about a week later, once I had steady work. I'm pretty serious about it."

"That's pretty impressive! Why jump straight into the hardest possible magic, if you don't mind my asking?" 

"I grew up in a world where there's no magic. It has a lot of other things going for it, but—no magic. So when I got here it was pretty exciting. It still is pretty exciting. And I thought it would be really lame to, so soon after I had this revelation, choose a path that would close most of that off to me. And, it's challenging, but not so challenging that I can't handle it, or that it isn't worth it."

"I hope it's everything you dream of it being!"  

"Oh, I'll probably die trying, but I think it will be interesting. It was nice to meet you, Dyva. I'm in the coffee shops relatively often, maybe we'll run into each other."

"Yeah! I hope so, you seem to be an interesting person, you were fun to talk to! I look forward to hearing about your progress!" 

"Until later, then. Remembrance!"

Sida continues her normal routine: translating, studying, writing. She's making good progress, and may be ready to cast her first ritual by the end of the year. She continues to wear a mask, and gets some cheap grain alcohol to disinfect things. It seems to be working, as she doesn't get anything more than minor illnesses. She only gets mugged once, and looses a couple gold, but is otherwise unscathed. Altogether, things are going well.

When she hears about a traveling shrine to Air-That-Moves-You, she decides to pay it a visit.

The shrine has been set up on the edge of the city, in an empty lot among the gardens that spring up to supply the city's demand for fresh herbs and vegetables. It takes the form of what almost looks like a church-spire built onto a cart - precariously tall and more than a little bit rickety, but basically sound and capable of being moved from place to place. The whole thing is strung up with hundreds of ribbons in dozens of colours and patterns, along with dozens of sets of wind-chimes, hung anywhere they'll fit. You'd think they'd produce a cacophony in the breeze, but it comes out more like a symphony. The priests are an old, old orc, his hair gone grey and his face deeply weather-worn, along with a younger couple (a goblin and hobgoblin) he's been training to maintain and move the shrine once he's gone. They've set down for a while to take offerings, explore the city and trade.

"Hello! This is the shrine to Air-That-Moves-You, right? I was hoping I could ask a few—well, a lot of questions."

The old orc is the one taking petitions right now. "Ah. Well, we call them the dancing wind where I'm from, but yes. I'm always happy to answer questions."  

Alright, deliver the spiel.

"So, I'm from another world that doesn't have gods. I showed up in the city two months ago, and I've learned quite a lot in that time, but I'm probably still more ignorant than a child in some ways. I was hoping you could tell me more about the god, and what worshiping it entails. I am considering, uh, declaring an allegiance."

"Another world that doesn't have gods, you say? What I'd give to go there... But I don't imagine you'll be finding a way back within what life I've got left." He smiles the quiet smile of someone who has spent his life doing exactly what he wanted to spend his life doing, but who is still sad to be old and dying. "The Dancing wind is a god that asks us to keep moving. Compels us even. I think all of it's strongest followers are people who knew there was something they couldn't have staying at home, or that the world was vast and they had to see it, or something like that. The fundamental lesson is that you can't stop moving - everything else flows from that, and the desire to live in a world where that's something everyone can live. It doesn't have to be physical movement, they don't oblige travel, especially from lay followers, but you can see the spiritual connotations - you can't let yourself fall into habits just because they're easy, not when you could be exploring and wondering at the world instead. Since you're here today, you're not doing too badly at that - the people with a real problem there are the ones who haven't been into a building other than their home, their workplace, and their favourite pub in years. We have to go to them." 

"Many gods have services on their day of the month - 35 gods corresponding to 35 days and all that - but that's hard for the dancing wind, since most of our shrines and priests move. Still, you should keep that day in mind, as a day to spend doing things the god would like. Meet other faithful. Give offerings to the shrine, if you can afford it. We always need travelling supplies, I keep giving them away." He laughs cheerily. "The ribbons and wind-chimes are all offerings as well, of course. I sell cloaks stitched in a style that's considered like a prayer, where I come from, though I had to adapt it, the craft is mostly used for the life-giving-waters and the tower-shaking-storm. If you ever make it big, you should make your own shrine, even if you're not becoming a priest - either one of the stationary sorts, or by sponsoring someone to start a new travelling one. That's outside most people's budget, though. But in general, what you do to earn the favour of a god is live your life with them in mind - think 'what would the Dancing Wind want me to do' and then you do that. And if you're right, then you might get a blessing or two out of it."  

"I'd need to be a Great Name to make it back home, if it's possible at all. So that probably won't happen anytime soon."

"I've always been a wanderer of some sort, I think. When I feel inspired to do something, typically I do it. And that's lead me all over the place, geographically, socially, in the library, and so on. And I came here because the creed of the Dancing Wind sounded a lot like what I've already been doing my whole life. But I won't—can't decide to do what the Dancing Wind would want me to do, except by coincidence. I do what I want me to do, or sometimes it's an impulse so unexpected I didn't know that's what I wanted."

The orc closes his eyes and thinks for a moment. "I think, in general, that the gods would rather live in a world that was alike to their nature than a world that was obedient to them in thought and deed but which didn't actually get it. The dancing wind doesn't mind that I left my home to avoid starving, or that those two left their home to get away from politics, or that generally speaking people are travellers for their own reasons first and for the dancing wind's reasons second. If you just pray and make offerings for safe travel, and then travel yourself, you can have a long and happy life on the road, and that's a good thing, a thing that the Dancing Wind will use their powers to encourage, where they can - and if you're funding shrines and temples or hunting people who destroy shrines or feeding every stranger who comes to your door looking for a place to spend the night, a god can afford a fair amount of power and attention for you, and prayer can just be for you how to draw the god's attentions to that. But - and maybe this is a priest speaking, and not something that matters so much for lay people - you also have a relationship with a god, and purely transactional relationships are worse than deep and loving ones. Some of the saints of the dancing wind have been people like you, who just went where they felt like going for their entire lives, but they were also people whose desires were to have a relationship with the divine? Not every saint was a priest, though. I think that's worth remembering."

"Thank you, that clears some things up for me. I might not be able to worship any god, but I like the work you do, so"—she drops a few gold in the offering jar. "I hope you have a pleasant day."

This whole religion thing is a little weird. The worshipping-sapient-gods-who-actually-exist part, that is. She's been delaying worrying about it for a while, but it's time to come to a decision soon. She heads for the temple to Understanding, in the city, to find someone to talk to there.

Understanding's temple is also out of the city, but in a very different way - to get there involves crossing the river and heading out of the city for a ways, maybe an hour's walk through mostly gardens and orchards, with the occasional wizard's tower or little fortification to break up the monotony. The temple itself is built into a hillside - the most striking thing about it is how a spring has been diverted into a series of waterways that stream throughout the complex, causing every building to have a fountain or pond, and every footpath to be matched by a little burbling stream or fast-flowing aqueduct. The main temple itself is an open-courtyarded thing of sweeping lines and brightly coloured tiles (reminiscent of a Chinese or Japanese style of temple), but there are also less-artful outbuildings to house monks and kitchens and armouries and so forth. A monk is sweeping the main yard as Sida arrives, while two others are using the courtyard to spar, one with a quarterstaff and the other with a single-sword style. Both occasionally achieve straight-up supernatural effects with their fighting. 

Sida hasn't really been outside the city before today, or not very far out at least. She hopes she doesn't get attacked by a stray monster hiding in the tall grass or something.

The temple is impressive, albeit more extravagant than she's used to. Perks of having adventures as sponsors, she supposes. She approaches the sweeping monk.

"Hello. I have some questions about Understanding—the god, that is. Is there someone here I can talk to about that?"

Monsters do leave her alone, though she's treated to the sight of a songbird which leave a sparkling trail behind it, flying in the distance, and to that of a little earth-elemental in a shape reminiscent of a hedgehog, and maybe the size of a cat, pushing it's way determinedly through a hedge, as well as the more mundane wildlife and farmlife of this well-cultivated land. 

The sweeping monk replies to sida: "Ah, yes. I can answer your questions; we have spaces set aside to talk with people who come to visit. Would you prefer to talk outside or indoors?" 

"Outside is fine. It's a nice day today."