Blackfeather Woods blind to this impending fate

The stranger did not offer a name — or, she did, but it was more like an introduction to a pantheon rather than a personal introduction of herself; she did not feel comfortable enough to interrupt, so Parvati stood calmly and listened. She looked at the altar and the remnants, the reliquaries, that had been collected there. Lord of pestilence she had said. What sort of person prayed to, obeyed, and worshipped a concept like that? It was an unsettling thought. So very different from what Parvati had been raised to believe via her own people.

What do you know about this place? The pale woman asked, and as Parvati ventured a glance her way, she thought she saw a smile on the healthy side of her face. About the daedra and our religion? The daedra —?

A moment passed where she processed these words. Her gaze dropped, and Parvati looked at the stone escarpment beneath her feet for a moment, ears atop her head fidgeting a little. I'm sorry, no, she answered softly, and then her eyes trailed back to the altar. My people have many gods - many practices, some reserved for specific sects or limited to small families of people. I come from... as she trailed along, Parvati realized she might've been over-sharing and paused; spares a glance to the pale woman's features to try and gauge if her commentary is welcome, and abridges the words as she concludes, My people worship wadj-wer. The men, mostly.

It felt wrong to share this in this holy space — it was reserved for gods that she had never heard of, but Parvati was open to all; her own people had so many deities that she often had a hard time telling them apart from the historical record when she was told stories as a child. It was not a terrible problem to have, although some were quite literal in their interpretation.