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Let's make use of the casual RP section for this retry of the HGW concept. Casual RP Rules Rules Specific to this RP Oh and if y'all have your own ideas for what you want to be your servant, I'm all ears. Less work for me.

a pokemon based on your favorite song

Caleb Grey of Galatea The first thing Caleb noticed when he received his newly-blessed sword was that it didn’t feel like his sword anymore. It looked the same and had all the same properties -- weight, composition, everything like that -- but there was something intrinsically part of the sword that was now alien to him. Of course, the feeling wasn’t entirely unexpected -- no smith worth their steel could ignore the advice of those that came before -- but that just made it more notable to him. He was among them now. Still, now he was unsure what he was supposed to do with this newly-blessed sword. A personal shrine dedicated to Taros seemed most appropriate, but that would mean actually making his own shrine. Not that that was too big a problem, just that there was more work to be done. Already designs were flowing into his head. In fact, it seemed that holding the sword boosted such creativity. Was it the blessing or his innate skill, he wondered? Another question: did it even matter? He looked up from the sword and out into the crowd. It was thinner than he expected, but that was alright; this had been more a ceremony for him than for anybody else anyway, and the polite applause felt exactly the same as it would have coming from a crowd of two thousand. No matter the size, they were still the first to recognize this achievement, and Caleb hoped they would spread the news about the ceremony. In fact, he was pretty sure he could count on it. “Such social creatures we are,” Caleb mumbled to himself, and stepped out, down from the altar, away from the forge, and into the crowd’s welcoming arms. Notes from Captain Helmsley’s Logbook I suppose my intuition that we would be departing today was correct, though even then it did not go the way I was expecting. Three of the watchdogs appeared in turn throughout the day, each with their own separate message for me. The first was Neasa, Nuumu’s dog, who informed me that she would no longer be travelling with us. I admit to not entirely following the details, something about observing a new faction of her church? A new faction of a church? Fortunately, I don’t imagine myself dealing with Nuumu for a little while yet, so I don’t imagine I need to understand it right away, and that’s if I ever need to understand it at all. The second was Hinder’s dog, claiming to seek sanctum from some guards chasing him. Again, perhaps my theological inexperience is showing, as I am completely mystified as to what justification these hypothetical guards (I did not see them) would have to arrest a representative of the gods, but the watchdog was not telling and, to be honest, I did not ask. I did grant his request, however, for the same confusing reasons. Last was Taros’ dog, who, after confirming everything I have just written here, announced they were ready to depart. So yes, we are down to two for the moment, barely even a pack. The crew has been preparing to set sail since the moment they heard the orders. There’s only one thing left to do now, I suppose. He found them in the main cabin, sitting around patiently waiting for the ship to set sail. If they were talking before he entered, he missed it entirely, though he still began with “Sorry for intruding,” as he crossed the threshold into the cabin proper. “I do need to know, though, where have you been called next?”OOC