Galoban. From the time he had gathered Trustcoin in hopes of garnering Lord Samular Tauren's ear, he had been caught up in the whirlwind pace of gathering power and position in the service of his lord. For weeks, he had been scouting rumors, scouring the city for hidden clues, and delving into the finest libraries of Waterdhavian nobility. The amount of information he had collected was astounding. Even as he palavered with and bore witness to palaver within his lord's Samular tet, and became aware of the "aspects" they pursued so aggressively, he had dismissed it as a different type of magic, a type of magic only a few could assimilate and master. Until he started researching why magic was in Toril, and how it followed rules that allowed it to be harnessed. Then he started listening more to the Samular discussions of the new magic and the ascension, and their grave concerns over who would gain control over the magic of the world. Then he saw the Samular Tet, nay, Pantheon, assembled for the first time all in complete divine form, and he knew he was standing among Gods. This moment struck Galoban as the world was struck the night of Godsfall. For the next week, Galoban contemplated, and reflected, and tried to decide what he really believed. Exactly 7 days after his enlightenment, he finally succumbed, and prayed. Not the quick prayer he used to implore the Lady of Luck with a dozen times a day, nor the thoughtless prayer of a traveller wishing for good weather. No, he gave himself to his fate, and begged the Samular Lord Horseman, Gypsy Lord, The Charging Knight to take him as his destined servant and show him his path. He sobbed his prayer in a song, sung and strummed across a golden harp. He sang until he heard an accompanying voice, a golden voice that answered him in time to his harping. It was Taurens voice, and it sang of service to Glory, and Battle, and Knowledge, and Retribution and Death and what lies beyond it. It was a song of destruction toward dragons, and preservation of humankind. It was a song of bravery, and battlefields in the sky above Waterdeep, and platoons of cavaliers charging forward in devastating sweeps of dragons in mid air. It was a song of Gods' Ascension.
He awoke and was clear headed for the first time in a week. He finally knew what he must do. You see, magic was the key. In what was to come, wars needed to be won, and they would be, by someone. Whichever side had better command over magic certainly had the advantage, whether that came in the form of arms and equipment for troops, or healing enough to keep them alive. But it was clear that magic was bound to divinity, and to master it, one must serve divinity.
As Teldicia lay the mantle of priesthood across Galobans shoulder, his thoughts were on the holy song that called him to service. He felt incredibly inspired by the visions of cavaliers and their coursers charging up into the air to slay dragons, and he envisioned calling upon his domains of Travel and Glory to bind the necessary enchantments.