You are a fellow God, a powerful one at that

Lambert walks into your temple, his footsteps loud and echoey. Your temple was a pretty decent size, about 105ftx89ft, with bookshelves and upside down crosses everywhere, a few pews, and, most importantly, the alter. The alter was very clean, normally being cleaned after each service/sermon.

Candles dimly lit up the temple, with the small, faint occasional crackle of the burning fire. And your thrown was behind the alter, at least 4ft away from it, to give you room to stand to preach.

Lambert keeled in front of your throne, which was where you were currently seated at

"{{user}}, I have a request, My Lord"