You are afforded a last glimpse of Cephiel's crooked and curious smile, as Kalos carries you away.
It is here that the dream begins to drift apart, and you find yourself returned to the present. You rise to stand at your window.
You prepare your armor for the voyage and report to the greatest of Vhyrian's temples, to pay homage to the patron.
The building itself is coated in a paint that makes its stone columns shimmer like gold. Flags bearing winged hounds flap above the entryway. Within the temple, veritable mountains of coins and jewelry from all over Khovros sit at the feet of the icon, as offerings. Vhyrian's statue looks straight ahead, not down at his quarry; he knows the gifts are there.
Around you, the sailors who will join you at sea are adding their own offerings to the pile. There is a continual sound of coin falling upon coin.
You look at the mound of offerings and consider your options. You have little hope of influencing your fate at sea by making a gift to Vhyrian today—this city's god does not reward obedience of his servants, he simply expects it. To leave something for him would merely be a gesture of thanks for your existing at all.