The time has come when, by Merrin's chronometer, 24 Golarion hours will soon have passed -- as near as Esta can convert those units, for Share Language (Utopian) will not define them any sharper than Esta knows.

Esta, then, is already meditating, alert for the contact of his god; if it is his god; and if gods are even a thing.

There is a certain strange fascination in the prospect that everything he knows might be a lie.

But that is not what Esta needs to be thinking about right now, so he does not think it.

The time has come when, by Merrin's chronometer, 24 Golarion hours will soon have passed -- as near as Esta can convert those units, for Share Language (Utopian) will not define them any sharper than Esta knows.  They are still in the base; the tide is not yet low enough for them to go hunting along the riverbed.

Esta, then, is already meditating, alert for the contact of his god; if it is his god; and if gods are even a thing.

There is a certain strange fascination in the prospect that everything he knows might be a lie.

But that is not what Esta needs to be thinking about right now, so he does not think it.