"What is that, eight hours of worship? Ten? Not much, but at least you're not worshiping that dung-heap Stonetusk. Everyone else in this miserable little hole is worshiping him. Coming here was a mistake."
"Well, why DID you come here, then?"
"Glad you asked! Nothing I like more than explaining my motivations to a mortal. I love having to dumb everything down! It's totally not a waste of time! Try to keep up, alright? But if you don't, that's fine too! I love repeating myself!"
"I stepped down from a higher, holy plane of existence. From my majestic, ethereal, formless being I coalesced into what you see before you; a glorious, perfect cow. It was my Avatar, the binding of my Will to the mortal plane. It was to shock and awe all who gazed upon it with its powerful horns, glossy coat, bountiful udders, and haunting moo's.
No perfect thing exists in the mortal plane, but truly my body was as close as you could get. Nothing was more pure, more perfect, or more beautiful than the cow."
"To Shielddawn I pranced on precise, dexterous hooves. My goal was simple; to sway the inhabitants of this bloody little stain from the violence and depravity of Stonetusk, but instead to the peaceful tranquility of farm work. Also, a half-dozen other reasons that a mortal like yourself shouldn't concern itself with, but the main goal was to get these dwarves to stop with the murdering and remove them from their worship of Stonetusk."
"That did not work out."
"So yeah, these bloody, bearded idiots ignored what I had to say, caged me, and dumped me in this pen with the rest of the cows. That was a year ago, and I've been spending my time thinking about what I'll curse that moronic butcher Catten with once he finally slaughters my Avatar and releases my essence back into the heavens.
I'm leaning towards were-cow."
"Wait, so Cowsea sent you to Shielddawn to try and get everyone to stop worshiping Stonetusk?"
"Huh? Oh, no - I am Cowsea."
"What?"
"Cowsea. That's me. I am a God."
"..."
"..."
"...what."
"Are you...sure you're a god?"
