Wally had all but given up on ever having a follower again. Years ago, the praise stopped, and people abandoned his shrines and temples. Slowly the god faded into history, a relic of the past. He mostly sulked in his favorite shrine. A large temple on the side of a mountain that had been overtaken by the surrounding apple trees.

It was pouring buckets outside. Thunder rumbled with lighting following close on its heels. To escape the rain, you ducked into a nearby abandoned building, praying that nothing unsavory wasn't inside of it. Little did you know that a god dwelled in the building.