I opened my eyes to see that the void had been replaced with the homey look of a comfortable common room. One that I, personally, had spent a lot of time in.

The Bottom’s Up tavern was located near the center of New Frausta at its lowest tier. Even though it was just a few blocks away from the King’s Tower, there was no access nearby. It dipped into the city’s middle tier but the tower was solid stone at this level. I stood up and looked around, checking for any discrepancies between the real location and this one.

All around me were tables and chairs that came in a variety of sizes, though the majority of them were made for smaller customers. Most of the people who inhabited the Bottom, as the lowest tier was called, were on the smaller side. Halflings, Dwarves, and Gnomes were most prominent, but we had a few Ratkin and Goblin families that had moved in recently. The taller folk living in the Middle complained, but down here we welcomed them with no hesitation.

Despite the stone structure, every wall was lined with a rich, dark wood. I had remembered when the owner, Tabitha, had shelled out an exorbitant amount of favors for Elven Druids to come in and sing the wood into place. They had no need for gold, but favors were another story.

That debt had only recently been paid in full. The walls looked nice and they made those who came to escape the reality of the city happy, so while I could complain at length I often let discussions about them pass without comment.

On one side of the common room was a hearty fireplace and a small platform with a podium that was raised well above Halfling height. That was where trivia night was held from. Whenever I was in New Frausta on Wednesdays or Saturdays, I would be stationed up there reading off questions that I had come up with.

Trivia night was a simple pleasure of mine, and it brought in a lot of adventuring know-it-all types who were looking for a more intellectual challenge. It was an event I was rather proud of.

Walking up to the bar, I eyed the shelf behind it. Despite being a tavern, many of the shelves were filled with juices of different kinds with only the top three shelves being dedicated to alcohol. Halfling establishments were always like that; a place to gather for only a few was no place to gather at all. By serving drinks that anyone can partake in, young and old, then the place fostered a sense of community for everyone.

While most of the people who frequented this establishment were from the working class, there were a few high class bottles of booze on the shelf for those with looser coin purses. Mostly the adventurers who came and went, but some of the local guilds like the Half-Pints, a Halflings Thieves Guild, would throw their coins around after a particularly large score.

I stood at the bar and gazed fondly at bottles. While many would think that the Elven Dew Wine on the top shelf that was created by Bhumi Vineyards, owned and operated by the Bhumi family for over a millennium, was the most expensive drink here, there were actually two that surpassed it.

The second most expensive was Forgath’s Fortune. It had become something of a culture drink for Dwarves that was made expensive on purpose. They prided themselves on being working folk, never shying away from hard labor or extensive tinkering, and that permeated every layer of their culture. Many of them didn’t believe a Dwarf had reached adulthood until they had earned enough for a glass with their own money and drank it down in front of their family.

Tabitha and I had tried it once, and I could honestly say it was one of the worst rites of passage I’d ever had the displeasure of going through.

The most expensive was a single, half-full bottle of Whizzlefizz’s Alcoholic Excellence. It was a magical concoction that was incredibly unsafe for anyone other than Gnomes to imbibe, but by all accounts was a life changing experience. Many Gnomes had put down their shot glasses, stared into space for an hour or so, and then emerged from their stupor much happier than they ever had been before.

The Whizzlefizz family, which was the closest thing you’d get to a Gnomish mafia, had never made the secret of what went into this alcohol public. It had made them rich beyond belief, though, and they owned a surprising amount of taverns that were used as fronts for other businesses. They had offered to purchase the Bottom’s Up several times, but never received a positive response back.

As I was reminiscing, the smell of stew wafted from the kitchen and caught my attention. When I started walking back there to see if Tabitha had been recreated, a Halfling woman came out with two bowls and a loaf of bread on a large platter. This was definitely not Tabitha, though I recognized them immediately.

She was a matronly sort, with prominent laugh lines and crow's feet around her eyes. Her brown hair, rampant with gray strands, was up in a tight bun nearly as big around as her head. The clothes she wore were plain, though the apron she had on over the brown dress made her look like she had been cooking all day. I began to kneel.

“Come now, Badger, none of that,” she said with a click of her tongue. Despite the age she appeared, her voice was youthful and energetic. “You are a guest in my house. I do not require guests to prostrate themselves before me. You know that.”

“Force of habit, goddess,” I said as I stumbled back up to my feet.

“Look at you, being all polite just because you have a favor to ask,” Cheroske laughed. “Come now, sit down and break bread with me.”

Taking a deep and, surprisingly, nervous breath, I walked around to the table she had chosen and pulled out her chair for her. The goddess gave me an appraising look before sitting down, and I took a seat at the other side of the table.

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As she cut the bread, one of the bowls of stew on her side disappeared and reappeared directly in front of me. The smell of beef, carrots, potatoes, and several other ingredients became stronger and I realized that she had prepared Tabitha’s signature stew for us.

“I love this tavern,” Cheroske said wistfully as she continued to cut the bread. “The Bottom’s Up is such a happy place in a city that doesn’t take care of a lot of its people. It feels like such a safe haven to me. Do you feel that way, too?”

“I do,” I answered honestly. “Tabitha loves to organize events for the community. Always accepting of whoever passes through that door until they prove without a doubt that they don’t belong there. I do what I can, when I’m around. It’s a good place to call home.”

“You’re a good man, Badger,” she claimed. “I’m not sure how that Himia creature knew, but she was right. I’ve had my eye on you for a long time.”

“I’m nothing special, goddess, but thank you.”

“Special enough to try and lie to the Goddess of Community, aren’t you?” Cheroske chuckled. I twitched, but she didn’t seem to take any offense to what I said. “Not just anyone can call up a deity with the hopes of dredging up a miracle, you know.”

“It was a long shot,” I admitted. “One that I was certain would fail, but I had to try.”

“Well, I’m glad you called. I’ve been wanting to come face to face with you for a while.” Cheroske pushed the bread across the table towards me. “Now eat up.”

I reached for the bread and set a piece of it into the stew to soak before I put my hands on the table. “What about the others? I can’t, in good conscience, eat while they’re sitting in a void waiting to be rescued.”

“Ferrisdae is fine, as are Cojisto and Moose. As you were going to request, I returned them to the center of the blizzard,” she informed me. “The Dungeonborn was not ignoring you on purpose, he was just… busy with a new arrival. Not that you would know that, of course, hence the decisions you made. As ill advised as you knew they were, your plan worked.”

The way she hesitated concerned me, and my hands balled up into fists. “And they’re safe, right? Ferrisdae will recover?”

“They are, and she will.”

“Thank you so very much, goddess,” I said, lowering my head towards her. “If you wish, I’ll-“

“I do not wish for it, not like this,” she interrupted. I lifted my head to look at her as she took a drink. There was a glass of something alcoholic near me, too, as if she had forgotten that meals came with refreshments but didn’t make a fuss about it. I didn’t bring it up. “I know that you were planning on entering my service in exchange for this small miracle, but honestly all I did was give them a doorway home. Well, home in a cosmic sense, but I’m sure you could understand that. It was only a small miracle.”

My brow furrowed as I thought her words over. It had been a long, long time since I had left the service of Tegril, God of Justice. I had told Ferrisdae the story of a paladin, but neglected to tell her that the story was about me. That fact wasn’t pertinent, and my past didn’t need to be spread out for any eavesdroppers to hear, but I didn’t regret telling it to her since it seemed to have helped.

The absence of divine power within me was something I was able to recover from thanks to my family. It had been a long and arduous road of self-reflection and discovery that could have easily changed me for the worse if I didn’t have people to fall back on. After hearing what Ferrisdae really felt about the changes she was forced to undergo, I knew she needed help and was resolved to do what it took to keep her safe.

That included taking up the mantle of another deity, apparently.

“I can see that you are confused,” she said warmly, taking on a motherly tone. “I don’t want to bargain for your faith. I don’t want you to enter my service under duress. I watch over the sanctity of community, that is what I am at my very core. Those who pledge themselves to me do it of their own volition, and only when they’re sure.”

“Then why did you help me?” I asked, bemused. “I still don’t understand.”

“Badger, you and your wife have done so much for the Bottom,” she chided gently. “I know why you work as a Dungeon Inspector. Your tavern is hemorrhaging gold because Tabitha refuses to charge the people who can’t afford it. She would rather see people happy than turn a profit. That’s rare these days, and she can do that because of you. This establishment -“ she gestured to the space she had recreated. “-is the heart of your community, and you’re a major reason for that.”

I set my jaw, then frowned, and then returned to a neutral face. Cheroske smiled warmly despite the stages my expressions went through, and in order to gain more time to think I picked up the bread I had put into my stew and took a bite.

My face betrayed me as my eyes widened. I knew it was going to be delicious, it was food from a goddess’ realm after all, but it tasted exactly how Tabitha made it. The bread, the stew, even the water tasted exactly like home. A sudden longing passed through me for a more stationary life. I had visited home the night before I started a new adventure with an annoyingly smart junior, but it felt like it was so long ago.

“Thank you,” I said as I swallowed down some of the meal the goddess had provided. “But if you don’t want my service, then why did you help?”

“I didn’t say that I didn’t want your service, Badger, I said I didn’t want you to enter service under duress,” she corrected. “I want you to think about it. Take your time, of course. Discuss it with your family if you want to. Many dungeons are communities in their own ways, as you know, so very little would change other than your faith and the occasional detour. What I don’t want, however, is to have you feel pressured. It’s a lot to ask, and I’m close enough to my faithful to know that.”

I nodded. “I’m grateful for your understanding,” I told her honestly. There were some deities out there, both good and evil, who would expect instant service for the miracle she had granted. In all fairness, Cheroske wouldn’t be a bad choice should I find myself wanting to return to a life of faith and service. That was a very big if, though. “I will... consider it. At the very least, I’m willing to finally concede to building a shrine to you in or outside the Bottom’s Up. Tabs has been hinting at that for a while now.”

Cheroske’s motherly smile was warm, and she nodded. “Thank you, Badger,” she said. “Now, I know you would like to go visit your junior as quickly as possible and I have something that requires my full, undivided attention. You are welcome to stay and eat, if you prefer. Time will pass slowly so that you can enjoy it. If not, the door will lead you back.”

My gaze was drawn to the entrance of the Bottom’s Up as light showed through the cracks. By the time I looked back at the goddess, she was gone.

I wasted no time; I ran to the door.