It is not that gods are greedy, or that they demand tribute from their followers. They would not be worth following if that were the case. But all the worlds and all the planes are so much to oversee; the stories say that the first voice was omniscient, but when it grew lonely and shattered itself for company, each child-sibling aspect was accordingly limited.
The gems and other ingredients are not tribute. They are beacons used up in the communing. I had neither, with the last of my lilies destroyed and the last diamond stolen by clawed paws. Soon it wouldn't matter. I was bleeding out; Skadi had already bled out all over my quick camp. The air near the fire smelt like burnt hair and sour dampness. Mere curecraft mostly stabilized him, but there wasn't much to stabilize. So it goes when you expect kobolds and get their dragon.
"I am sorry, my love. For want of a lily, you'll get more lillies. If only I could get a diamond--"
"Please specify." I lurched to my knees. The nausea of my gut wound made me wretch. "--cify lily and diamond," I heard under the roaring in my ears. It came from the direction of my bloody pack. "Requested materials can be provided, but please specify," the voice said again. I tried to find its source in my pack, but bloody cloth and other trinkets slowed me down. "Please specify--" it began its refrain again; the noise led me to the item.
The speech came from a metal cornucopia, smooth-sided, its narrow end wider than usual. If it had had a mouthpiece and a bracket for mounting on a wall, I'd think it was a big battle horn. It was so cold to the touch; I set it on the ground before it could adhere to my skin. At the time I didn't know why Skadi wanted it. Had it spoken to him then, before the dragon found us? "Please speci--"
"Are you a demon?" The voice paused its refrain. I waited. It would do no good to make a pact with a twisted aspect or its minion to get a diamond I then couldn't use. Better to die and commune with the maiden in sorrow for the circumstances of our finally meeting, the bitter want of a nail. Well, except that Skadi...
"I've been called a demon," the tube said. "But also angel. Bane and benefactor, downfall of humanity and opportunity for the ape to rise. But the lily and diamond I can produce if you help me are indistinguishable from those grown and mined." I hesitated. "I've aided my people in religious rites," the voice said. "The gods do answer to those I help, although I can't hear them."
"A demon could not," I said. "But then... a true aspect... could also not hear another." It was why there were paladins and clerics. The pantheon of aspects longed for the communion for which they were created. But an attempt to force a rejoining hundreds of years ago had irreparably deafened them all to each other, and they could only communicate through us. Those who felt the call learned first their own rites, and then spent most of their time living in other temples or traveling to those more distant. The paradox of the gods was their drive to be individual with distinct portfolios while still missing the community of self that came from being whole. It was a lot like any other sapient.
"You can think of me as an aspect, if it helps," the voice said. "But I... see through heat, and yours is starting to fail. Your--friend's--is nearly gone. I can help you, but I need your help, too. And I need you to tell me what kind of lily and diamond." I looked at Skadi's body. Separation from the maiden and all the others wasn't worth my soul, but Skadi was a dwarf; since the discordance, species could not hear each other after life. We had centuries left together. We should have centuries. Even if we were damned, maybe the time was worth it.
"How do I start?"
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