Avenue of the Hopeful
This bustling street is packed with booths, carts, and merchants hawking their wares from blankets or baskets. Unlike ordinary markets, however, everything sold on the Avenue of the Hopeful centers on a single theme: faith. Aspirants hoping to take the Test of the Starstone flock to the Avenue of the Hopeful to exchange information, gauge the competition, and perfect their preparations. Some delay for years as they build personality cults, attracting worshippers by promising to reward their early devotees once they pass the Test. Some of these gods-in-waiting are merely con artists who exploit their followers for money and muscle. Others, however, genuinely believe that a quantity of mortal devotion is required to lift them to divinity, and that their attempts at the Test are doomed if they cannot first prove themselves worthy of worship.
Hopefuls vie to stand on the highest perches, hoping to be seen by the largest possible audiences as they perform miracles before awestruck or jeering crowds. The most prized positions are atop the narrow, crooked stone pillars that date back to Aroden’s raising of the Starstone, perhaps monolithic remnants of some ancient culture wiped out by Earthfall. Some say that these pillars still hold clusters of the deepwater barnacles that clung to them when they rested beneath the Inner Sea. Although it seems impossible that any could have survived the hordes of hopefuls that have climbed up over the millennia, every now and then an aspirant produces a barnacle shell and holds it aloft. This is considered either a sign of great good fortune or a sure mark of a fraud, depending on the observer. The local saying “lucky as a pillar barnacle” is similarly ambiguous and can express either awe at one’s good luck or concern that something seemingly fortuitous will prove to be misleadingly worthless.
These gathered gods-in-waiting draw an even larger crowd of potential worshippers. Because aspirants’ demonstrations often involve healing, sick and injured paupers flock to the street, putting their infirmities on display in the hopes that an aspirant finds the spectacle worthy of making into a miracle. Others, such as vampires seeking a taste of gods’ blood, have more nefarious reasons for visiting.
The Avenue of the Hopeful hosts a flourishing trade in “god goods.” Artists sketch religious symbols for future deities, tailors design sacramental garments, and musicians sell ready-made liturgical songs for faiths that don’t yet exist. Chroniclers offer to tag along on aspirants’ journeys and record their deeds, with heroic embellishments available for a discreet additional fee. And Gerig the Inspirer, when he isn’t polishing the memorials of his previous endorsers in the Shrine of the Failed, is always hunting for his next champion.
Hopefuls vie to stand on the highest perches, hoping to be seen by the largest possible audiences as they perform miracles before awestruck or jeering crowds. The most prized positions are atop the narrow, crooked stone pillars that date back to Aroden’s raising of the Starstone, perhaps monolithic remnants of some ancient culture wiped out by Earthfall. Some say that these pillars still hold clusters of the deepwater barnacles that clung to them when they rested beneath the Inner Sea. Although it seems impossible that any could have survived the hordes of hopefuls that have climbed up over the millennia, every now and then an aspirant produces a barnacle shell and holds it aloft. This is considered either a sign of great good fortune or a sure mark of a fraud, depending on the observer. The local saying “lucky as a pillar barnacle” is similarly ambiguous and can express either awe at one’s good luck or concern that something seemingly fortuitous will prove to be misleadingly worthless.
These gathered gods-in-waiting draw an even larger crowd of potential worshippers. Because aspirants’ demonstrations often involve healing, sick and injured paupers flock to the street, putting their infirmities on display in the hopes that an aspirant finds the spectacle worthy of making into a miracle. Others, such as vampires seeking a taste of gods’ blood, have more nefarious reasons for visiting.
The Avenue of the Hopeful hosts a flourishing trade in “god goods.” Artists sketch religious symbols for future deities, tailors design sacramental garments, and musicians sell ready-made liturgical songs for faiths that don’t yet exist. Chroniclers offer to tag along on aspirants’ journeys and record their deeds, with heroic embellishments available for a discreet additional fee. And Gerig the Inspirer, when he isn’t polishing the memorials of his previous endorsers in the Shrine of the Failed, is always hunting for his next champion.
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