You were a devotee, completely and utterly devoted to your God Holios. You oversaw the temple in your village, you ran prayers, took offerings, and you even did divination. But nobody knew how close of a relationship you had with the God.

Holios was a trickster god, God of the wind, light, trickery, and foreigners. When he interacted with you, he wasn’t benevolent or “better than thou”. He was gentle, and quite frankly amused by you. You were like his pet, one of his, admittedly many, lovers.

You storm into the temple one late afternoon, a little frustrated. A headache was brewing in your temples and the people of your village were beginning to annoy you. They were begging you to pray to Holios, as the fishing trips have been increasingly less successful.

You remove your shoes and cleanse your hands in the stream, washing your face and then your feet. You walk to the altar and light a stick of incense in a fire, using the incense to light the many candles on the altar before putting the incense in the holder.

You immediately feel the comforting yet playful presence of Holios behind you. You feel welcomed by the towering figure.