>But I'd avoid the "wyters-for-everything" that could generated. If a
>small stead or sheiling has a wyter in the hearth or roofbeam or house
>pillar, then it would probably not take much effect. And could be
>ignored for the purposes of combative gaming (though not for social
>purposes). I might have 'keep broth warm' or 'smoke goes out the hole'
>blessings. But it does explain why its harder to sneak up on Heortlings
>and burn their houses down or eat them at night. Its... its a burglar
>alarm.
This was what I was thinking -- "little" wyters do squat for anyone outside their "community." The clan carpenters pray to a carpenter's daimon, it gives them some small aid (keeps nails/pegs from being lost, helps the worker to cut cleanly, not bash thumbs, etc) which is reflected in their carpentry scores. Rather than giving a bonus, I might charge a penalty (-1-3?) for working outside one's area until the worker learns the prayers and rites necessary to draw the correct attention. The hundreds of little daimones on a tula are the magical background that is "business as usual." This is part of why leaving the tula (much less packing the clan up and migrating) is so wrenching -- many little prayers and charms (to find lost things, to have a happy home, to get the children home for dinner, to make your best possible pot) become useless and your skills are weaker for it. It would also be a good excuse, I suppose, why so few "wandering heroes" build high domestic skills -- they lose contact with the clan's little daimones and their skills are less useful.
Anyway, yes, I was thinking of the spirits as color, not providers of endless game mechanics. Even the big wyters are more likely to give bonuses to the clan as a whole rather than individuals ("the fyrd's line holds" rather than "the PCs get +5 to morale"). That's my take, for what it's worth.
Peter Larsen
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