Religious Behaviors in the Realms

Faith Made Visible

Religion in the Realms is not a question of belief so much as acknowledgment.
The gods are known, their power felt in miracles and omens, their priests walking proof. Faith, then, is not whether one believes, but how one behaves.

Across Faerûn, religion is visible in the small things—the tap of a guard’s fist to his heart, the kiss pressed to a coin before a gamble, the whispered thanks before bread is broken. These are not grand rituals but the rhythm of life, the shorthand of devotion.

Using This at the Table

When the gods are real, everyone is a little superstitious. These gestures and sayings help DMs and players make faith part of everyday play without needing sermons or stat blocks.
Use them to color a merchant’s nervous tic, a sailor’s bedtime prayer, or a guard’s farewell.
They’re meant to be acted out when possible—the fastest way to make a tavern, temple, or street corner feel alive.

• For DMs: Sprinkle gestures into NPC dialogue or description. A barkeep who flicks her coin pouch before pouring ale hints at Tymora’s favor without saying a word.
• For Players: Choose one or two habits tied to your patron deity—or even mix them. A ranger might salute Chauntea before planting rations and thank Mielikki before the hunt.
• For the World: Faith is pragmatic. A merchant devoted to Waukeen may still whisper to Tymora before spinning the roulette wheel. A soldier of Torm might mutter a quick plea to Helm before standing watch. The pantheon overlaps in daily life as easily as clouds cross the same sky.

Tone of Worship

Faerûnian religion is less about orthodoxy and more about reciprocity: offerings for aid, gestures for protection, tokens for luck.
Temples may disagree, but the common folk understand that the gods are a chorus, not a contest.

In cities, shrines cluster by trade—Waukeen’s coins near the markets, Tymora’s dice near the gaming halls, Umberlee’s shells at the docks.
In rural lands, one shrine might serve many names: a single altar carved with sun, grain, and wave to honor Chauntea, Lathander, and Umberlee all at once.

Pray as you breathe—often, and to whoever’s listening.

— Common saying among the sailors of the Sword Coast

Faerûnian Pantheon

Faith in the Heartlands is less a single creed than a tapestry of gestures, sayings, and habits passed down through work and worry. Most folk do not pray in temples but in motion—while closing a gate, lifting a mug, or crossing a bridge that might be less sound than it looks.
Below are the most common divine habits one might see from Baldur’s Gate to Neverwinter.

Torm — The Loyal Fury

Duty, Loyalty, Protection

Torm’s faithful prize steadfastness above all. Their gestures are martial but humble—reminders that protection is an act, not a title.

• Gestures: Fist to heart, then outward, a pledge of loyalty given and extended. Guards often strike weapon pommel to armor twice—once for themselves, once for those under their watch.
• Sayings: “Shield your own.” “Let Torm see my oath.” “Stand firm, and stand again.”
• Behavior: Followers keep weapons clean even in peace and never abandon a watch post without replacement. To them, disorder is a wound left untended.

A wall is only as faithful as the hearts that hold it

— Knight-Captain Meredon of Elturel

Helm — The Watcher

Vigilance, Guardianship, Endurance

Helmites are patient sentinels, given to long silences and wary eyes.

• Gestures: Two fingers to eyes, then outward—“Helm sees.” Many touch the brow as if adjusting an unseen helmet before duty.
• Sayings: “Keep your eyes open.” “He watches, even when we sleep.”
• Behavior: Rarely drink to excess; distrust closed doors and curtains. A Helmite’s home is always positioned to face an entrance.

When Helm turns his gaze away, so does safety

— Leilon watchman’s proverb

Tymora — The Lady Who Smiles

Luck, Chance, Adventure

Where Tymora is worshiped, laughter follows. Her followers celebrate the unpredictable—coin tosses, sudden windfalls, narrow escapes.

• Gestures: Kiss thumb and flick, miming a coin’s spin. Some wear polished silver tokens and tap them twice before any gamble.
• Sayings: “Heads for the Lady, tails for trouble.” “May she smile on your next throw.”
• Behavior: Often superstitious—will not walk under ladders or leave debts unpaid at dusk. To refuse a coin toss is to insult her.

Luck’s a coin she spins when she’s bored. Best hope it lands your way.

— Dockhand superstition, Waterdeep

Tempus — Lord of Battles

War, Courage, Strength through Conflict

Tempurans are as likely to toast their rivals as their comrades; to them, conflict is proof of life.

• Gestures: Fist into open palm, a silent readiness. Before battle, warriors touch weapon hand to opposite shoulder in salute.
• Sayings: “Let Tempus judge our courage.” “Blood answers blood.”
• Behavior: See honor in clean wounds and truth in sparring. Even tavern brawls may begin with a muttered prayer to him.

If your blood’s still hot, the battle isn’t done.

— Field saying, Chionthar mercenaries

Chauntea — The Great Mother

Agriculture, Growth, Renewal

Farmers, healers, and midwives look to Chauntea for steady seasons and strong harvests.

• Gestures: Hands cupped and parted, as if sowing seed. Some kiss the soil before planting or bite a grain of barley before travel.
• Sayings: “The Mother’s hand feeds all.” “Grow in good earth.”
• Behavior: Waste nothing edible. Thank the field before reaping and the animal before butchering.

Every loaf is a prayer baked true.

— Halfling proverb, the Greenfields

Lathander — The Morninglord

Dawn, Renewal, Vitality

The followers of Lathander love beginnings—new ventures, new loves, new days.

• Gestures: Palm raised to the sunrise; some exhale softly at dawn to release “yesterday’s shadow.”
• Sayings: “The dawn brings truth.” “Rise and begin again.”
• Behavior: Lathanderites are energetic reformers and inveterate optimists. They repaint doorframes and rebuild walls others would abandon.

If you must fail, fail before breakfast. There’s time yet to try again.

— Morninglord’s jest, Neverwinter temple

Mystra — The Lady of Mysteries

Magic, Knowledge, the Weave

Wizards and artisans alike pay silent respect to Mystra. Her rituals are quiet, her followers meticulous.

• Gestures: Index finger tracing a spiral—the endless turning of the Weave.
• Sayings: “Let it flow true.” “The pattern remembers.”
• Behavior: Mystrans favor symmetry and completion. Leaving a spell unfinished or a circle open is an act of deep discourtesy.

Every spell is a thread she lent you—don’t pull it loose

— Apprentice’s warning, Candlekeep

Waukeen — The Golden Lady

Trade, Wealth, Prosperity, Opportunity

To Waukeen’s faithful, commerce is not greed—it’s circulation. Coin that moves feeds families, funds ventures, and proves courage. Her worship is pragmatic and polished; deals are half ritual already.

• Gestures: Weighing a coin on the thumb before a bargain; touching a small scale-charm or tally stick; a discreet clink of coin against goblet to “wake fortune.”
• Sayings: “Let profit find its path.” “Coin favors the bold.” “The ledger remembers.”
• Behavior:
• Keep a “seed coin” (never spent) as a promise of future profit.
• Tip openly for good service—wealth must be seen to keep moving.
• Begin negotiations with a courtesy concession (a copper off the top, a sweetened delivery date) to invite her favor, then press the true bargain.
• First earnings of a new venture are tithed—some leave the first and last coins of the day at her shrine to “close the circle.”

A closed fist holds a single coin; an open hand counts many.

— Sembian shop proverb

Umberlee — The Bitch Queen

Sea, Storms, Shipwrecks, Tribute

Sailors call her “Queen” with equal parts fear and respect. Umberlee’s favor is rented, never owned; you pay her due or the sea collects in kind. Her worship is a litany of appeasements, each meant to turn teeth to foam.

• Gestures: Fingers dipped and flicked seaward before boarding; pressing lips, then touching water; tossing a coin or pinch of salt into the surf “for the Queen.”
• Sayings: “The Queen takes her due.” “Calm seas hide her teeth.” “Pay before you pray.”
• Behavior:
• Pour the first drink of the voyage overboard; never whistle on a calm—“don’t call her to answer.”
• Don’t rename a ship without sacrifice and a night of lamps at her shrine.
• Before a storm, crew untie one knot in every line “to give her anger a way through.”
• After landfall, return something you took—shell, coin, or catch—so the ledger with the sea stays even.

Men make charts; Umberlee makes decisions.

— Sword Coast pilot’s saying

The Dwarven Pantheon

Dwarves rarely pray aloud. Their worship is carved into habits, baked into craft, and hammered into stone. To a dwarf, gods are not distant ideals but forebears—the first smiths, builders, and keepers of oaths. They do not beg favors; they honor legacies.

Most dwarves thank their kin or craft before naming a god, and every clan carries its own small variations. A forge song might mention Moradin, or none at all. A mason may nod toward Berronar before laying the keystone, even if he never sets foot in a temple.
Faith among dwarves is a lineage, not a lecture.

Moradin — The Soul Forger

Creation, Forge, Family, Perseverance

To forge is to pray. Every spark and hammer-blow is an act of worship to Moradin, who shaped dwarves from stone and fire.

• Gestures: Two hammer taps on metal or stone before beginning work. When no tools are present, dwarves rap knuckles twice against their breastplate.
• Sayings: “Strike true.” “From spark to soul.”
• Behavior: Work is never begun in silence—at least one note, hum, or phrase marks the start. The forge must end the day clean, or luck cools with the coals.

Moradin’s fire is patient—it waits for those who return to the anvil.

— Clan proverb, Mirabar

Berronar Truesilver — The Revered Mother

Home, Honesty, Hearth, Family Bonds

Berronar’s touch is felt not in temples but in kitchens and council halls. Her followers keep clans whole and quarrels brief.

• Gestures: Fingers interlocked before the chest, representing unity. Breaking the gesture without reconciliation is an insult.
• Sayings: “Truth keeps the hearth warm.” “No secret survives supper.”
• Behavior: Elders and mediators invoke her name before negotiations. Dwarves whisper quiet thanks to her when unlocking a door after long absence.

Stone may crack, but kin should not

— Saying of Clan Tordannon

Clangeddin Silverbeard — The Father of Battle

Valor, Defense, Martial Glory

Clangeddin’s followers are the professional soldiers, the keepers of discipline and steel. Where Tempus favors chaos, Clangeddin values precision.

• Gestures: Crossing one forearm over the other in front of the chest, blades inward.
• Sayings: “Beard high, shield higher.” “Meet blade with blade.”
• Behavior: Veterans polish weapons after each victory but never boast before battle; to claim triumph before the fight is to tempt the god’s silence.

The beard grows white, but the steel remembers

— Old soldier’s toast

Dumathoin — The Keeper of Secrets Under the Mountain

Mining, Hidden Riches, Guardianship of the Dead

Dumathoin’s faithful see beauty in what others overlook. To them, a gem uncut is a prayer unanswered.

• Gestures: Closed fist over heart, thumb brushed downward—“the secret kept.”
• Sayings: “The mountain keeps what we deserve.” “Deep speaks to deep.”
• Behavior: Miners leave a single unclaimed gem in each new vein, an offering so Dumathoin never feels robbed. Tomb-keepers engrave his rune on sealed vaults to mark the silence within.

He knows every stone that bears your name, and every one that will.

— Stonecarver’s epitaph, Gauntlgrym

Vergadain — The Laughing Dwarf

Luck, Trade, Wit

Among merchants and adventurers, Vergadain is proof that even dwarves can enjoy a good gamble. He blesses clever bargains and well-timed jokes.

• Gestures: Tossing a coin and catching it on the back of the hand. If it lands face-up, the deal proceeds.
• Sayings: “Luck favors the shrewd.” “Never bet more than you can drink away.”
• Behavior: Dwarven traders touch their purses to their beards before haggling—a subtle nod to the Laughing Dwarf.

Faith for dwarves is neither quiet nor loud—it is steady.
You’ll hear it in the rhythm of hammers, the ring of mugs, and the hush after a promise is kept.

Moradin builds the forge, but Vergadain sells the steel.

— Merchant’s quip, Citadel Adbar

The Elven Pantheon

Elves worship through movement, not noise. Their prayers are danced, painted, sung, or whispered between breaths. A flick of a wrist, a brushstroke, a fragment of melody can all be offerings when done with intention. Where dwarves build and humans kneel, elves express.

Their gods are reflections rather than rulers—facets of a single long story: creation, freedom, and consequence. The same elf may honor Corellon in art, Eilistraee in song, and even whisper to Lolth in defiance or fear. Faith, for them, is not contradiction but complexity.

Corellon Larethian — The First of the Seldarine

Art, Magic, Creation, Freedom

To elves, Corellon is not only creator but inspiration itself—the divine impulse behind every act of beauty or defiance.

• Gestures: Palm open, fingers spread, as if shaping invisible clay. Artists and mages trace lazy spirals in the air before beginning their work.
• Sayings: “Grace in all things.” “Beauty is the truest defense.”
• Behavior: Followers of Corellon rarely begin any craft or battle without a pause—a breath to center and invite inspiration. Anger dulls creation; art must flow, not strike.

Every arrow I loose is a line of poetry—may it land true.

— Larethian ranger’s oath

Eilistraee — The Dark Maiden

Freedom, Dance, Moonlight, Redemption

Eilistraee’s faith is joy in defiance—music and motion under open skies. Her followers dance where others hide, singing beauty into the dark.

• Gestures: A small twirl or raised palm under moonlight. Even a subtle shift of weight before speech can mark her blessing.
• Sayings: “Sing your truth, even in shadow.” “The moon hears what the sun forgets.”
• Behavior: Eilistraeens hum when nervous, and hum louder when afraid. They seek beauty in reconciliation, not conquest. Drow who turn from Lolth often mark themselves with silver dust or a moon symbol at the throat.

When she dances, even the spiders stop to listen.

— Surface bard, Evereska

Sehanine Moonbow — The Mystic Dreamer

Dreams, Death, Illusion, Journeys

Sehanine is the soft passage—the guardian of endings and transitions. Her faithful honor her with quiet rituals, treating both sleep and death as sacred journeys.

• Gestures: Fingers brushed lightly across closed eyes, then to lips, sealing dreams or farewells.
• Sayings: “The veil is thin tonight.” “All light fades to moonlight.”
• Behavior: Followers leave polished moonstones on graves or riverbanks. Before long journeys, they drink clear water under starlight as a ward against being lost.

We do not fear the dark—it is only the dream between lives

— Sehanine priestess of Silverymoon

Hanali Celanil — The Heart of Gold

Love, Passion, Art, Beauty

Hanali’s name is whispered wherever hearts stir. She governs affection in all forms: romance, friendship, and the love of creation itself.

• Gestures: A hand over the heart, turning outward—giving love freely. Lovers exchange pressed flowers as silent prayers.
• Sayings: “Love well and let it change you.” “Every mirror flatters her.”
• Behavior: Followers adorn themselves with gold leaf or rose scent before celebrations. They view heartbreak not as tragedy but as a sacred proof that one has lived.

Every tear is a jewel she has polished.

— Lover’s lament, Moonshae Isles

Lolth — The Spider Queen

Ambition, Chaos, Shadows, Power through Deceit

Lolth’s faithful worship with precision, performance, and fear. In Drow society, piety is both weapon and survival.

• Gestures: Fingers weaving subtly, mimicking a spider’s motion; touching lips after lies, sealing deceit as devotion.
• Sayings: “The web tightens.” “Obey while you watch.”
• Behavior: Followers of Lolth never show true vulnerability. Even their prayers are manipulations—gifts with strings. In rare moments of sincerity, a Drow may whisper her name only to curse it.

Her silence is the loudest prayer you’ll ever hear.

— Menzoberranzan proverb

Labelas Enoreth — The Lifegiver

Time, Longevity, Wisdom

Labelas is patience given divine form. His followers are historians, poets, and those who measure time by what endures rather than what passes.

• Gestures: Hand tracing a small circle over the heart, symbolizing time’s return.
• Sayings: “Wisdom ripens slow.” “Yesterday is never wasted.”
• Behavior: They record more than they speak, letting memory serve where argument would fail. To rush a Labelan is to insult both god and grace.

Elven religion, more than most, treats faith as art.
Every act of grace is devotion, every melody a prayer. In the Realms, even silence can be holy—if it’s beautiful enough.

Mortals race, elves remember.

— Old saying of Evermeet

The “Monster” Pantheons

To call them monsters is to admit our ignorance. Most folk of Faerûn see orcs, goblins, or sahuagin only at the tip of a spear, and so mistake brutality for nature. Yet beneath those clashes lie faiths older than many human kingdoms—civilizations built on their own laws, hierarchies, and divine bargains.

To understand the Realms, one must accept that even those deemed monstrous pray, and their gods answer.

Orcs — The Blood of Gruumsh

Conquest, Fury, Endurance

Among orcs, faith is not a choice; it is blood memory. They believe Gruumsh’s gaze burns in every storm and that scars are his handwriting upon their skin. His worship is visceral—sweat, blood, and bone.

• Gestures: One eye closed or scarred in ritual mimicry of Gruumsh’s wound. Warriors spit on weapons before battle to mark them as seen by the One-Eyed.
• Sayings: “One Eye sees.” “Leave none for the carrion.”
• Behavior: Before battle, orcs strike shield against shield in rhythm until the sound feels like thunder. To die silently is to die forgotten.

They do not fight for death—they fight to be remembered by their god.

— Field notes of Scholar Harthen Vell, slain two days later near the Spine of the World

Goblins — The Tricksters of Maglubiyet

Order through Fear, Dominion, Survival

Goblins see Maglubiyet not as savior but as the ultimate taskmaster—proof that the world is cruel and must be met with cunning. Where humans see chaos, goblins see discipline through cruelty; their hierarchy is divine efficiency.

• Gestures: Clasped hands, fingers interlaced and twisted—the “knot” of obedience.
• Sayings: “Knot tight, cut quick.” “Better the lash you know.”
• Behavior: Before raids, goblin warbands kneel for the briefest breath, not in reverence but resignation—acknowledging Maglubiyet’s endless chain of conquest.

To them, conquest isn’t greed—it’s gravity.

— Cormyrean ethnographer, later converted by her own findings

Gnolls — The Cackling Priests of Yeenoghu

Hunger, Madness, Bloodlust

Gnollish worship is consumption. They do not build temples because every battlefield is one. Yet within their madness lies a perverse theology: that hunger itself is divine—a promise that the weak must feed the strong, and that the act of feeding is worship.

• Gestures: Gnolls paint jaws and claws with blood to “scent” Yeenoghu’s favor.
• Sayings: None repeatable—most are growled praise mid-feast.
• Behavior: A gnoll that kills without eating dishonors its god; starvation is seen as divine testing, not punishment.

They are not without faith—they are faith, stripped of restraint.

— Journal of the paladin Aereth Starborn, recovered beside a chewed helm

Sahuagin — The Children of Sekolah

Hunting, Predation, the Sea’s Dominion

To the surface folk, sahuagin are marauders of the deep. To themselves, they are keepers of an ancient covenant—descendants of the sea’s first predators, sworn to Sekolah the Shark-Father. Their rituals are brutal but reverent, a constant cycle of blood that ensures the ocean remains fed.

• Gestures: Fingers curled into jaws, mimicking the bite. Blood—never fresh water—is used for all blessings.
• Sayings: “The sea remembers.” “The hunt renews.”
• Behavior: Before hunts, sahuagin circle one another in slow spirals, scenting the water. A shark’s passing is omen and benediction both.

To them, mercy is pollution—the sea abhors waste.

— Ship’s log of the Wavecutter, last entry before sinking off Mintarn

Githyanki — The Blade Faith of Vlaakith

Tyranny, Immortality, Obedience through Power

Millennia of astral empire have turned the githyanki into zealots of survival. Vlaakith the Lich-Queen is not worshiped as divine but obeyed as eternity itself. Faith among them is ritualized obedience; dissent is heresy punished by oblivion.

• Gestures: Blade held upright before the face, tip to brow—acknowledgment of Vlaakith’s gaze.
• Sayings: “Serve in this life, ascend in the next.”
• Behavior: Before combat, githyanki murmur short oaths in the Astral tongue, binding their souls to her cause should their bodies fall. It is said their corpses smile, believing death a promotion.

They have turned discipline into religion, and death into recruitment.

— Account of Archmage Thevran Mirith, Planar Encounters Vol. II

Mind Flayers — The Devourers’ Dream

Knowledge, Dominion, Unity of Thought

No other faith is so alien. Mind flayers do not worship gods as mortals understand them; they venerate the Elder Brain—a collective intelligence vast enough to eclipse individuality. To an illithid, joining that mind is salvation, dissolution, and eternity combined.

• Gestures: None visible; communion is telepathic resonance, often marked by a faint pulse of bioluminescence from the facial tendrils.
• Sayings: Translations vary, but one concept recurs: “Thought is the ocean, and we are its tide.”
• Behavior: Before feeding, a mind flayer pauses—not in pity, but in reverence, as if blessing the mind it will consume.

They do not believe—they remember being whole.

— Seer of Candlekeep, found later staring into a tidepool, whispering in Deep Speech

Beholders — The Faith of the Self

Perfection, Paranoia, Dominion through Vision

Each beholder is its own theology. Its dreams spawn reality; its worldview is literally world-making. Their “religion” is solipsism given flesh—each beholder believing itself the prime and all others flawed copies.

• Gestures: None shared. Some blink all eyes in sequence to mark completion of thought; others build shrines to their own image, gazed upon until stone melts.
• Sayings: “Only I see truly.”
• Behavior: Beholders often preach to their spawn or thralls, reciting sermons of their own divinity. The act of creation is proof of faith, and annihilation of dissent is worship.

A beholder’s prayer is indistinguishable from a threat.

— Volo, halfway through a sentence before the ink burns out

The so-called “monster gods” are not lesser—only older.
Their followers worship as they live: fiercely, pragmatically, and often without the luxury of mercy. To study them is to glimpse the ancient Realms that existed before men called themselves civilized.

We measure worth by how alike to us a people seems. The gods, it seems, do not.

— Elminster of Shadowdale

Everyday Superstitions & Common Shrines

Faith in the Realms is less a question of doctrine than habit.
Wherever people gather, the gods gather too — in toasts, gestures, and small precautions whispered more from custom than conviction. Even those who call themselves faithless cross fingers, touch charms, or nod toward the sky when thunder rolls.

For most folk, superstition is the most enduring religion of all.

Superstitions by Trade and Temperament

Sailors and Fisherfolk:
At sea, every shadow has a name. Sailors toss a pinch of salt over the rail “for Umberlee” before setting sail, and pour the first measure of ale overboard to appease Valkur, who they say drinks with the wind. Whistling on calm water is forbidden — it “calls the storm to see who dares sing louder.”

Farmers and Herders:
Before plowing, farmers press a seed to their tongue to “taste Chauntea’s patience.” Three stalks of grain knotted together and left at the edge of a field keep Talona’s blight away. When calves are born, a drop of honey is placed on their noses to invite the Mother’s sweetness into the herd.

Merchants and Innkeepers:
Waukeen’s followers polish a single coin each morning, not for luck but to remind themselves that prosperity must shine to stay earned. Innkeepers light two candles before opening their doors — one for profit, one for Tymora’s whim. If one guttered out, they say to expect “a night of arguments or empty tables.”

Travelers and Guards:
Those who walk the roads mutter “Mask watch me” before entering a city, and tap their boots together twice before rest to shake loose ill omens. Mercenaries mark their gear with scratched circles — the “Eye of Helm” — to keep watch even while they sleep.

Children and Lovers:
A tossed pebble over the shoulder brings good luck if it skips twice; if it sinks, Tymora’s favor has passed for the day. Lovers carve their initials on trees in the shape of Lathander’s rising sun to bless fidelity — though it’s said Corellon, not Lathander, grants the wish if the carving is beautiful enough.

Common Shrines of the Realms

Shrines in Faerûn are rarely exclusive. A single alcove may hold a sunburst for Lathander beside a fishhook for Umberlee and a handful of soil for Chauntea. Travelers add to them as they pass — a coin here, a feather there, the remains of a candle burned low.
To outsiders, they look like clutter. To the faithful, they are conversation.

Roadside Shrines:
Stacked stones and iron nails mark Helmite watch posts, while travelers’ cairns often double as prayers for safe return. Some bear carved eyes or weathered hands, half-hidden under moss.

Seaside Altars:
Driftwood shrines line the Sword Coast, hung with netting, shells, and drowned coins. Fisherfolk claim each new tide rearranges the offerings according to Umberlee’s mood. It’s poor luck to retrieve what the sea takes — even if it was yours.

Urban Corners:
City dwellers build their faith in small spaces — a saint’s token above a door, a coin embedded in a step for Tymora, a polished mirror shard on a windowsill to catch Lathander’s dawn. The Watch looks the other way when beggars leave their first copper on Waukeen’s steps; gods, after all, have long memories.

Rural Shrines:
Farm altars are practical things — old wagon wheels painted with Chauntea’s green-and-gold spiral, or barrels carved with Moradin’s hammer. Offerings are often edible, because what good is faith if it cannot feed?

Faith as Texture

The gods of Faerûn are not distant. They live in gestures, habits, and the rhythm of work.
Whether whispered by human farmers, dwarven smiths, or sahuagin priests in the deep, the impulse is the same — a reaching toward something vast that listens back.

A realm’s true map isn’t drawn in borders or rivers, but in the shrines by the road.

— Elminster of Shadowdale