The rain on the rooftop was music to his ears. Water, water, all around, and every drop to drink, grow crops, nourish life. Drown worms, create pestilential pools for insects to spawn in, and make those who stayed wet miserable. Glais raised his tankard in the air, a silent toast to his patron for exerting his power.<br/><br/>He muttered something to himself while standing at the bar, and looking out at the rain. He had smelt the increased humidity hours ago, and had easily found shelter. He may have been devoted to the apathetic purity of water, but that was no reason to get soaked. Especially when he could soak the insides of himself with cheap beer.<br/><br/>"The oceans truly rule everything. Even the land. Without water, the ground itself would be death."<br/><br/>The music played, the crowd danced, or chatted. Glais looked upon the crowd faintly bemused, as he gently kept time to the music by gently tapping his right boot on the ground.<br/><br/>He had his drink, now he needed to find a place to sit. The place was filling, and no tables were unoccupied. He'd have to find some other company. Hopefully someone who wasn't annoying. It would spoil his whole day if that happened. This little excursion inland had been great so far.<br/><br/>He'd spent the last few weeks on sabbatical, traveling from town to town, selling healing, water dowsing services, and disease and poison removing when needed; in exchange for food, lodgings or a few coins when his clients could spare them.<br/><br/>Most temples didn't have true clerics, just priests who knew their theology and gave spiritual and moral counselling to their congregations. Even then not all the gods healed. Which suited him fine, people needed what he had to offer, and he could recover his energy by praying... or fishing...or other acts that paid reverence to his god. Like quaffing massive amounts of beer.<br/><br/>This was his fifth tankard in the last hour, at coppers a mug it was the best way to stretch this praying session as long as possible. He had done a bunch of healing a day's travel ago and hadn't found a good place to sit and pray since then.<br/><br/>He was getting bored with standing, and wanted to eat. He needed to find a seat. Somewhere. He looked around. There. The blonde out-of-towner with the armour and shield. The sword and shield said 'knight' in his head, but the hair and poise said something different. She wasn't a veteran fighter who cut back on everything that wasn't essential in a fight. She was probably new, or didn't fight much, or was a noble.<br/><br/>The last thought cinched the deal. She probably had money, money meant an education. An education meant that she was somewhat knowledgeable about the world as a whole.<br/><br/>Hopefully she wouldn't make a big deal that he was a cleric. It wasn't like the bracelet of blue stones on his left wrist, or the metal medallion with a teardrop marked on it that hung from his neck were something that he would hide. He wore no visible weapons, nor any armour, but he wouldn't hide the emblems of his Patron.<br/><br/>He walked over to the lady knight and stood by one of the chairs, holding the backrest in his hand.<br/><br/>"Excuse me my Lady, would a cleric of Oceanus be able to sit here? This place is a bit crowded, and I'd like to sit down when I eat my dinner."<br/><br/>He smiled at her when he finished. He obviously wasn't from here, with his clothes, or jewelry. However that didn't mean that people would believe that he was a cleric. Clerics were few and far between in most parts of the world.