Daregim Silverdredger filed out of the building with the rest of the people who had attended the mass. After having made it a few feet out the door, he turned around and started to walk back inside; he had almost forgotten one of his important rituals. Studying the architecture and beauty of places of worship as soon as a service was over. Daregim took his helmet back off, holding it in one beefy hand. He admired the different statues and decorations for awhile, noting as much detail as he possibly could from the decorations. From statues, to the stained glass. When a significant amount of time had passed, Daregim fulfilled another important ritual; prayer. Though now he had a chapel to pray in, instead of a tavern room or the open air. The aging Dwarf took a seat in a pew. While he was sure most of the elderly folk would sit if needed, he would kneel. After all, "The Divine Mother just keeps making me age like a fine, fine brew." He chuckled at the statement, then looked around, hoping nobody heard him.

It was true that he was getting older, yet he didn't seem to care. That was what he told himself anyways. "Maybe I'm more like a cheese." He muttered. "Think I'd be more like one of those moldy cheeses." This time he kept the thought to himself. Daregim set his helmet next to him as he kneeled. He went into a deep state of prayerful meditation. He started out with a childhood prayer deeply rooted in Dwarven tradition so as to make himself even more comfortable in his surroundings. He muttered the words and thought on them. "Divine Mother, grant me strength like the stone." He imagined himself as a rock, sturdy against all of the elements that would do him harm. All thanks to The Mother. "Divine Mother, grant me purity like that of yourself." Daregim may have matured quite a bit since his time as a young man, yet he still dealt with the age old problems of anger, jealousy, pride, and yes, lust. Not the lust of flesh, but the lust for gold and precious things dug from the ground. 

The lust of flesh had long been gone from him. He simply believed that with age it had gone away; he was sure he was impotent. Regardless, he felt it was both a blessing and a curse. The lack of lust for such things was good as it kept him from sin. Yet the desire, he thought, and indeed all of his "faculties" were needed for a relationship. Or at least, one he viewed as meaningful. One in which he could have had children. Yet that ship had sailed long ago, and he was not meant to be a father in either sense of the word. He continued the prayer. "Divine Mother, grant me obedience like that of a Paladin." Daregim nodded at this concept. The desire to be a holy man for The Divine Mother was greater before than ever in his life, yet he didn't believe himself worthy even after all of this time. He had to be not only obedient to his own promises, but he had to be obedient to the will of The Mother. Daregim looked back to the day he saved the woman and child. He had no regrets except one. The inability to save his fellow Dwarf.

Daregim swelled with anger at that moment, his face going red. He almost uttered a loud profanity in the chapel, though it was replaced with what could only be described as a low growl. He took in a deep breath, "Divine Mother, grant me patience like that of a smith." Daregim exhaled somewhat loudly, and continued his prayer. He still had problems with his temper, and he was sure that one day that would be the death of him. Still tormented by what he had done, and what he had failed to do, Daregim spoke again. "Divine Mother, grant me peace." He paused to say one more word. "Please." He would abstain from ale today; it would be a bit of a challenge, but the lack of one luxury would do him good. "Self denial..." He uttered the two words. "I offer myself completely to the Divine Mother and bind myself to her will." He whispered for perhaps the thousandth time in his life. Daregim looked to his helmet, gear was not cheap, and he had to make sure it was safe.

Except it tended not to be. Daregim had numerous encounters with people who had tried to steal his helmet. He was absolutely certain that the thieves did it out of either desperation, or some sick sport. He himself had grown tired of it. So to ward off thieves, he tried to look as menacing as possible. It didn't always work. When a street urchin had stolen his helmet, Daregim was quick to take it back and scold the poor boy. Having seen the boy cry, in the end Daregim had given him some funds for food, medicine, and money to start working in an honest trade. The orphan reminded him of the boy he had helped to save, and he truly felt guilty for making him cry. Daregim shook his head. How many years ago was that? He wasn't sure. The Dwarf continued his prayers in relative silence, unsure of how the day would go. So he put it all into the Divine Mother's hands. All would be well provided he trusted the Divine Mother and her guidance.