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Shep was returning home soon. After two and a half years spent in a humble hut in the Clan Mastiff's company, he had received a message, invisible over the air, that it was his time to return home but that no one would be coming to replace him.

He was sad, angry and fraught with anticipation. Home would be different now, but he was welcome that he would have a chance to see it again. His only dedicated student was a heathen that had turned ever so slightly to the ways of Cuthbert only to the acknowledgment of his power but never found it in himself to give up his own heathen Gods.

Shep was surprised to say that, although his mission seemed to be spent in vain, he was satisfied with the time he had spent here. If any good came of it, it was the singular betterment of one boy that had turned to a man in the time he knew him.

Corman had reconciled with his family, at least, to his father, to his mother and sisters. He still had yet to speak with Redgurn, but Shep could see his resolve building. He had come to accept that he was not always right, though from the stories he had recounted to Shep, Redgurn might have some apologizing to do himself. His father had passed on as barely a fraction of the man he was, but the family had only grown stronger as they stood together to send him off raised high on a pyre. It seemed that only in strife and tribulation did the Vorseman survive. Only against impossible odds would they find in themselves the strength to succeed. Even death seemed to be a way to bolster their spirits. They were such a strange people; fascinating, but also morbidly aware of their mortality.

Shep wanted to spend some remaining time with Corman to see if he could somehow get him to see reason. It had to be done quickly, time was running short.

"Corman, I want to teach you to pray." Shep said, frankly. "We'll do it first whichever way you are comfortable, but then, I think you should start following Cuthbert's ways in order to full utilize that ability. You have the wisdom, you just need the connection to the divine."

Corman let out a strangled sound. "Shep, I'm glad you're feeling this urgency to get me to convert. You must understand that it will not work for me. Cuthbert is your god, he is not my god. We've had this conversation..."

Shep held a coin in his hand, and after speaking a few words in prayer in his native tongue, the coin exploded with a bright light. Corman shielded his face. Shep spoke softly and evenly, "Just let me show you. Perhaps you can find a way to help your people after all."
Shep immediately proceeded to walk Corman through a shortened version of the his daily routine. Praying to Cuthbert in the morning asking for specific abilities for that coming day. Using those abilities throughout the day and then praying and giving thanks at the day's end.

Corman spent time with Shep over the coming days, waking up each morning using a non-God specific prayer to practice. Every time Shep tried to get Corman to pray to Cuthbert, knowing that Corman was ready and could easily grasp the power if he even slightly believed, but Corman could not bring himself to supplicate Cuthbert. This frustrated Shep to the point where he left Corman to his own devices for the remainder of the week. The next would be his last with the Mastiff Clan.

"You stubborn mule of a boy. Can't you see that Cuthbert is where this power is?" Shep was frothing with frustration. This was the last time Corman met with Shep to learn his daily routine.

On the way back from Corman's hut, Shep's heavy footfalls were matched by a pair of weathered feet. He was immediately startled by the appearance of whom they called the Mother Druid.