- [<] Status Log - created:: 2021-11-10 - status-updated:: 2022-04-25 #storystem/fic A wasting disease was an ignoble end for the village apothecary, and the utter uselessness of the local priests made it worse. As Kuria and her brother carried their mother's carefully wrapped corpse to the village [[Order of the Hallowed Dakhma|dakhma]] for interment, they passed by the Temple of the Gardener, the Temple of the Engineer, and the Temple of the Architect. "Why do the gods care about corn and carts but not people?" her brother asked, and Kuria, Priestess-mage in service to the Architect, could only say grimly, "I don't know, Migiri, but I intend to find out."