21. THOU SHALT NOT SCAB.
The great god Wannashowa opened his eyes; this came as something of a surprise to him, because a. he was pretty sure he didn’t exist prior to this. B. Gods aren’t noted for their tangibility or existence on the mortal realm, and c. even if they were, they didn’t usually choose to manifest in a bloody pond. He tried to get to his feet, wobbled, and fell over. Why couldn't he just stand up? (You try that with a flippery foot things sometime, it takes a lot of work.) He was greeted by a tired sounding sigh from behind him. “Oh Gods........ saving your presence, of course, your holiness, just this is going to result in so much paperwork you wouldn’t believe it.”
Looking behind Wannashowa’s eyes, beheld an angel. Well, sort of, it’s hard to do much of the actual beholding when the angel in question is 3 apples tall, a bit grey up top, and looks like the kind of individual who gets asked to leave the international accountant’s symposium’s monotone voice competition for boring his rivals to sleep. Still, any angel is better than none, and right now, Wannashowa needed answers.
“Care to explain the situation?” Wannashowa asked, trying to fold his arms and tap his foot impatiently. (Of course, failing spectacularly because, as Mibbet already understood, frogs were not exactly of the bipedal persuasion.)
The angel reached into his robes, pulling out a headache tablet and a glass of water; he hadn’t dealt with a misfile this bad since a God’s low opinion of a town he was smiting (he literally said and sod em) had led to an accidental dual smite on the next town over.
“Put simply, you were invoked, as such, under column 9 section b of the deities and divinities manual this entitles you to a form. However, there were..... complications.”
“Complications”, Wannashowa replied, somehow managing to convey with her words that calling this mere complication was like calling the demon god a bit naughty at times.
“It can’t be helped”, The Angel sighed. “Technically, your invoker was a frog due to some filing complications, but they were also a sentient humanoid entity, so here we are.”
“HOW IN THE NAME OF ME IS A FROG A HUMANOID? IT WAS BLOODY WIZARDS, WASN’T IT? IT’S ALWAYS BLOODY WIZARDS.”
“Not in this case Sir, it would appear in this case the cause of the Sqwoomph was a witch. Usually, it would be a simple matter to rectify, but apparently, the resultant feedback turned her into a fly. A fly we do not, at this moment in time, have in our possession, Your Holiness.”
“So does this mess have an undo option that doesn’t involve my ceasing to exist once more?”
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“Oh, that’s easy; all you need to do is fulfil the purpose for which you were invoked; it’s all written down in the union rulebook. You do have power over the elements, and according to the paperwork, the cause of your invocation was to rectify a drought.”
“So I just use my magic and make it rain, and then it’s all over, and I can ascend, or whatever, and go on existing?” Wannashowa asked, hopefully.
“Well, technically speaking, that would do it, Your Holiness, and to all intents and purposes, as you are filed in the categorisation of a GREAT god, it should be simple. But there is a teeny, tiny, insignificant complication. More of a snag, really, but it may delay your ascension by a small margin.”
“Another Complication? I wait with bated breath to hear what it could be this time.” Snarked Wannashowa.
“Well, actually, it may be two; the primary difficulty would be your worshippers.”
“My worshippers? What’s wrong with my worshippers.”
“Well, for starters, I should have said Worship ER; whether they are a worshipper or two worshippers is currently debatable, two souls one body, It gets complicated. But for filing purposes, you are recorded as having a single worshipper.”
“And the second Complication?”
“Ah! The crux of the issue, that’s where it gets tricky you see Your Holiness, you are filed as a god of frogs, and frogs, as you may be aware, aren’t really the most pious of creatures. Beyond the occasional oh god, please don’t let it eat me; they really don’t do much actual praying. You are lucky on that front; your sole worshipper is a bit more intelligent than your average frog. As a result, we could file her as your High Priestess.”
“So let me get this straight to get out of here. I have to make it rain across an entire kingdom while being worshipped by a frog, who may or may not be a human. Or, in some way, fix this drought with a worshipper pool of one. Who may or may not be my High Priestess at the same time as being my sole worshipper. After which, I can ascend and become a god of frogs, who, by the way, do not believe in gods. I have to do all this while holding the power to control rain, but only at a level in line with my divinity, which at this point in time is barely enough to dampen a bathroom sponge? Is that it?”
“That’s about the sum of it, Your Holiness.”
“Could I ask another god for assistance?”
“No union God would touch this job.”
“How about the non-union deities? Could they do it?”
“Oh, there are no non-union deities, Sir; we make damn sure of that.”
Something about the way that was said made Wannashowa think twice as thunder rolled, lightning flashed, and terror streaked through his mind. Almost causing everything else to streak through his newly acquired digestive tract, (that was going to take some getting used to as well, why are mortals so full of squishy bits? It's gross.) The word Scab somehow manifested in his head, alongside some rather clear suggestions, and divinely inspired images of fitting punishments. Making it clear, in no uncertain terms, the opinions on scabbing from the other Deities. (How the hell they found out he’d never know, but he had no desire to find out if the more creative punishments were even possible for the eldritch.) So he quickly abandoned that plan. Besides, there were standards to uphold.
Lo, the Great God Wannashowa spake unto his angel this message. “You got any more of those headache tablets?”