Lady Death goes by many names. The Goddess of Death, she listens to all. And when this Rogue, nearing the isle, called out her name and said At least you saw fit to let us through, she responded. "I have always watched over your kind. I am impartial, mostly. Though more of your kind deserve reward in the next life than many I have met, it seems. Allow me to be your patron, and I shall give you a boon."
To their credit, when accepting, the Rogue held only worry. "Can we get out of here after without our old crate falling apart?" -- Anon Guest
The weather started getting rough half an hour ago. Their tiny ship was tossed about like a toy in a bathtub. Their idiot Paladin leader insisted that they forge ahead, and the Rogue Kuttapurs was left to tend the helm. Kuttapurs was proficient with a number of vehicles, and always got the short end of the stick when it came to navigating something through a set of surprise hazards.
Visions of midnight murder fueling her determination, Kuttapurs clung to the wheel. Begging every god she could name for their mercy. Including the one that the living should never name out loud.
She who only answered one prayer - Not today, - and she often didn't answer it favourably. Nevertheless, when Kuttapurs begged Ereshkygal, piling on benevolent superlatives, the clouds parted and the seas settled a little. For the first time, Kuttapurs heard the voice of a god ringing in her head.
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