Cleric Backstory Generator: The Call and the Day It Wavered

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Cleric Backstory Generator: The Call and the Day It Wavered: 30 backstories

The call came on the hundredth visit, when they stayed to lock up. Served at a roadside shrine with one bell. Sworn to the power of first thaw and muddy boots. Spent the days keeping the door unlocked and a stool just inside it. Their faith was tested when someone asked what they would be without the robe. Carries the hour, always, to within a few minutes.

Padlock: keep a part. Arrows: change only that part.

The call cameon the hundredth visit, when they stayed to lock up
Served ata roadside shrine with one bell
Sworn tothe power of first thaw and muddy boots
Spent the dayskeeping the door unlocked and a stool just inside it
Faith was testedwhen someone asked what they would be without the robe
Carriesthe hour, always, to within a few minutes

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Every backstory you make is kept here, newest first, up to the last 20. The list stays in this browser.

Backstory of the day

The call came on the hundredth visit, when they stayed to lock up. Served at a roadside shrine with one bell. Sworn to the power of first thaw and muddy boots. Spent the days keeping the door unlocked and a stool just inside it. Their faith was tested when someone asked what they would be without the robe. Carries the hour, always, to within a few minutes.
The call came by marriage, into a family that had always kept a lamp. Served at a market shrine that opens when the stalls do. Sworn to a power of attics and of things kept just in case. Spent the days tending a kitchen garden in poor soil. Their faith was tested when the roof fell in a week after they mended it. Carries a nest of measuring scoops, for sharing out fairly.
The call came when the last keeper left a note saying back soon. Served at a shrine at the end of a boardwalk across a bog. Sworn to a power of gates, equally fond of open and shut. Spent the days re-hanging the shutter that every gale took down. Their faith was tested by a bargeman with room for one more and no questions. Carries a cloak pin in the shape of a lit window.
The call came as a knock at the door every dusk, with nobody there. Served at a shrine in a dry fountain in a square nobody crosses. Sworn to the patron of anyone learning a trade late. Spent the days replacing the lamp chain as often as it wore through. Their faith was tested by the offer of a richer shrine in a bigger town. Carries a clay lamp with a thumbprint that is not theirs.
The call came after a night beside a keeper who only listened. Served at a well house in the dry country, a week from anywhere. Sworn to the warden of seeds through winter. Spent the days sewing buttons back on for anyone who would wait. Their faith was tested when their own pupil stopped believing first. Carries a habit of leaving every door a little open behind them.
The call came on a milk round, when a keeper said hold this lamp. Served at a waystation where the road gives out and the tracks begin. Sworn to the power of fog, patron of those who wait. Spent the days sewing buttons back on for anyone who would wait. Their faith was tested the night their lamp went out and nothing happened. Carries the weight of a lamp that is not in their hand.
The call came when a falling roof missed them by a hand's width. Served at a shrine in a greenhouse, warm when nothing else is. Sworn to a broom power, sworn enemy of corners. Spent the days marking each child's height on a post every spring. Their faith was tested when asked to say the words over a thing they thought wrong. Carries a dried bean, one family's whole offering in a hard year.
The call came when one bird landed on their sill nine mornings running. Served at a hilltop cairn that every passer adds a stone to. Sworn to the one who walks behind the last in any line. Spent the days pressing apples each harvest for anyone with a jug. Their faith was tested by praise, which they found they liked. Carries a snail shell with a note rolled up inside.
The call came when they sheltered from rain and were handed a broom. Served at a shrine at a village washing place, loud on Mondays. Sworn to the patron of mended things. Spent the days stuffing wet boots with straw and turning them by the stove. Their faith was tested by a seat on a town council, with a cushion. Carries a jar of soot from a lamp that burned a hundred years.
The call came when a keeper taught them to read from the shop signs. Served at a shrine in the corner of a law court. Sworn to the power that watches crossroads and never says which way. Spent the days keeping a calendar of who was owed a visit. Their faith was tested when a new granary went up and hid the lamp from the road. Carries a lantern cut to throw the power's emblem on a wall.
The call came in the third summer they were paid to mow a shrine's grass. Served at a shrine in a bandstand, open to the weather on eight sides. Sworn to the patron of anyone learning a trade late. Spent the days carrying a hot supper to houses that had stopped visiting. Their faith was tested by word of an easier power two valleys over. Carries a fishing float painted with an eye.
The call came when a falling roof missed them by a hand's width. Served at a shrine in the wall of a mountain tunnel. Sworn to the patron of lamplighters and early risers. Spent the days carrying a hot supper to houses that had stopped visiting. Their faith was tested by a prize for the best-kept shrine, and wanting it. Carries a tin of hinge oil.
The call came by lot, drawn from a hat at a family supper. Served at a boathouse shrine with a bell hung from the rafters. Sworn to the power of nets, knots and patience. Spent the days answering the knocker at any hour. Their faith was tested when a stranger knew the same power by another name. Carries a clay lamp with a thumbprint that is not theirs.
The call came as a word spoken clearly in an empty room. Served at a shrine in a beekeeper's garden, hives on three sides. Sworn to the power in the turn of the tide. Spent the days minding the shelf of lost things, mostly gloves. Their faith was tested when a crowd wanted a wonder and they had only soup. Carries a nest of measuring scoops, for sharing out fairly.
The call came after a rope bridge held that had no reason to. Served at a boathouse shrine with a bell hung from the rafters. Sworn to the warden of the coldest hour, just before light. Spent the days writing letters for people who could not write. Their faith was tested when a new granary went up and hid the lamp from the road. Carries a book of rites with the last pages blank.
The call came when the shrine cat began to wait for them and nobody else. Served at a shrine on a cart, pulled between nine villages. Sworn to the power that keeps promises made on a journey. Spent the days keeping hens and sending each visitor off with an egg. Their faith was tested by the plain wish to sleep through one dawn. Carries a nest of measuring scoops, for sharing out fairly.
The call came when a stranger pulled them from a flood and left no name. Served at the oldest shrine in the city, now mostly a shortcut. Sworn to the power of misheard words. Spent the days polishing a bell nobody is allowed to ring. Their faith was tested by a fashion for a louder power. Carries a censer mended with wire.
The call came when the last keeper left a note saying back soon. Served at a quayside shrine that smells of tar and fish. Sworn to the minder of looms and of dropped stitches. Spent the days ladling soup at noon, to all, no questions. Their faith was tested when their own pupil stopped believing first. Carries a stiff little brush for wax, hung at the belt.
The call came when a keeper walked a whole night to bring them home. Served at a shrine in a harbour ice house, cold in every season. Sworn to a power of ants and of work done without thanks. Spent the days pouring new candles from the stubs of old ones. Their faith was tested when a fair they had planned all year was rained off. Carries the weight of a lamp that is not in their hand.
The call came one swept step at a time, without ever deciding. Served at a shrine at the end of a boardwalk across a bog. Sworn to a power of milestones, which counts for the tired. Spent the days measuring the lamp oil and making it last. Their faith was tested when an answer finally came, and it was only maybe. Carries slips of paper and a pencil stub, for names.
The call came because a grandmother's stories all ended at the same lamp. Served at a shrine in the wall of a mountain tunnel. Sworn to the minder of looms and of dropped stitches. Spent the days wiping soot off the lamp glass until it squeaked. Their faith was tested by a new tax on bells. Carries a duster of dove feathers, picked up one at a time.
The call came through a promise their mother made in a storm at sea. Served at a shrine in a dry fountain in a square nobody crosses. Sworn to the patron of anyone learning a trade late. Spent the days reading letters aloud and leaving out the unkind parts. Their faith was tested when the roof fund vanished with its treasurer. Carries a glass marble a child left in the offering bowl.
The call came by marriage, into a family that had always kept a lamp. Served at a shrine in the wall of a mountain tunnel. Sworn to the patron of night shifts and cold suppers. Spent the days stuffing wet boots with straw and turning them by the stove. Their faith was tested when a sailor asked if the power worked out at sea. Carries a tin of hinge oil.
The call came when the last keeper left a note saying back soon. Served at a niche in a city wall, the width of a door. Sworn to the power that keeps promises made on a journey. Spent the days re-hanging the shutter that every gale took down. Their faith was tested by a chance to go home and be ordinary. Carries a ledger of offerings with a moth pressed in it.
The call came as a clerk's error on a list of names. Served at a shrine on a sea stack, kept by whoever lost the draw. Sworn to the patron of mended things. Spent the days pressing apples each harvest for anyone with a jug. Their faith was tested in a drought that outlasted every rite they knew. Carries a snail shell with a note rolled up inside.
The call came when a snuffed candle caught again by itself. Served at a shrine in a beekeeper's garden, hives on three sides. Sworn to a broom power, sworn enemy of corners. Spent the days whitewashing the walls every spring. Their faith was tested when a fair they had planned all year was rained off. Carries a clay lamp with a thumbprint that is not theirs.
The call came late, once the children were grown and the house was quiet. Served at a milestone shrine no bigger than a dog kennel. Sworn to the minder of things said under the breath. Spent the days keeping a kettle hot for anyone at any hour. Their faith was tested by a seat on a town council, with a cushion. Carries a keeper's coat with a lamp-shaped scorch on one pocket.
The call came on a milk round, when a keeper said hold this lamp. Served at a watchtower shrine on a border nobody guards now. Sworn to a power of pauses, seldom asked for anything. Spent the days sitting with whoever did not want to talk. Their faith was tested by a book that explained everything another way. Carries a spare clapper, in case somebody's bell needs one.
The call came by lot, drawn from a hat at a family supper. Served at a cave shrine lit by a hole in the roof at noon. Sworn to a thunder power that enjoys being argued with. Spent the days witnessing bargains so both sides remembered alike. Their faith was tested by a seat on a town council, with a cushion. Carries a pot of whitewash and a brush, for touching up.
The call came after thirty years as a ferryman, on a quiet Tuesday. Served at a lock-keeper's shrine on a slow canal. Sworn to the power of a potter's second attempt. Spent the days stuffing wet boots with straw and turning them by the stove. Their faith was tested by a bargeman with room for one more and no questions. Carries a promise to come back, made to an empty room.

Next step Design the robe and the sash Pick a pose for the day of doubt

The call came: all 60 calls

After a kindness 12

after a night beside a keeper who only listened Two stools, one lamp, and one mouth doing all the talking.
after a rope bridge held that had no reason to Standing on the far side, looking back at one frayed strand.
after a winter lost in the hills ended at a lit doorway A small dark figure in snow and one yellow rectangle ahead.

Show all 60 calls (57 more)

After a kindness, continued

after a year as a guest nobody asked to leave A second cup on the shelf that became theirs without a word.
after they were found asleep on the offering step, and fed A blanket laid over a small sleeper and a bowl set down beside.
the day a lost dog led them to an old keeper's step A dog sitting very pleased with itself beside a sleeping keeper.
when a falling roof missed them by a hand's width Sitting in rubble with the dust still settling, quite unmarked.
when a keeper shared a last loaf and asked nothing back Two hands and half a loaf each. The keeper's half is smaller.
when a keeper taught them to read from the shop signs Two figures under a hanging sign, one tracing its letters in the air.
when a keeper walked a whole night to bring them home Two sets of prints in mud, one large and steady, one small and wandering.
when a stranger pulled them from a flood and left no name A soaked child on a riverbank, looking down an empty road.
when someone paid their debt and would take no thanks A receipt marked paid, with the payer's name left blank.

As a small sign 12

as a knock at the door every dusk, with nobody there A door opened on an empty step, with supper going cold on the table behind.
as a word spoken clearly in an empty room Looking round with a broom in mid-sweep.
in a dream of a doorway, met the next morning in brick A hand held out to a door knocker, not quite touching it.
on the night only they heard the bell One figure bolt upright in bed in a house full of sleepers.
when a dropped coin rolled a whole street to one doorstep A coin on its rim, a line of onlookers and a step waiting at the far end.
when a snuffed candle caught again by itself A thread of smoke and a small flame climbing back up it.
when a stone in their shoe turned out to be carved Hopping on one foot, holding a pebble up to the light.
when each path they took that year curled round to one door A map with a year of routes inked in, all looping to one dot.
when one bird landed on their sill nine mornings running Nine chalk strokes on a windowsill and a sparrow on the tenth day.
when rain fell on their side of the street only One wet figure and one dry crowd, facing each other across a gutter.
when swallows nested in their hat on its peg A hat on a hook with straw sticking out, and its owner bareheaded in the rain.
when they found their own name cut into an old lintel Fingers tracing letters worn soft, far older than they are.

Through family 12

as a family's thanks for a harvest saved A child led up a path between two very full carts.
because a grandmother's stories all ended at the same lamp An old woman mid-gesture by a hearth and one grandchild leaning in closer than the rest.
because every cousin took a turn, and theirs never ended A rota chalked on a door, with one name written down the whole column.
because someone had to, and nobody else stepped forward A row of relatives studying their shoes and one hand going slowly up.
by a tradition nobody could explain or dared to break A line of portraits, each holding the same lamp.
by lot, drawn from a hat at a family supper A slip of paper held up between two fingers. The others exhale.
by marriage, into a family that had always kept a lamp A new in-law in the doorway, coat still on, being shown a shelf of lamp oil by the whole family.
in a will, along with a goat and a set of spoons Arriving with a goat on a string and a jingling bag.
through a promise their mother made in a storm at sea A woman at a ship's rail, one hand raised, shouting into rain.
to the youngest, which in that family meant the shrine A long family table and, at the smallest chair, a lamp where the plate should be.
when a grandfather's vigil needed finishing Sliding onto a still-warm stool beside a lamp.
when an aunt who kept the lamp could not manage the steps An old hand passing up an oil can from the bottom stair.

By accident 12

after they fixed the roof and nobody else understood it Sitting astride a ridge with a hammer, the only one who knows which slate.
as a clerk's error on a list of names A finger on a ledger line and a shrug.
because the door stuck and their shoulder opened it One shoulder against old wood and a crowd waiting behind.
on a milk round, when a keeper said hold this lamp A milk can in one hand and a lamp at arm's length in the other.
when the bell rope came off in their hand Looking from a length of rope up into a dark tower.
when the last keeper left a note saying back soon A curling note on a door and dust on the step under it.
when they caught a lamp the wind knocked from its hook A dive across a doorstep and a lamp caught an inch above the stone.
when they knocked to ask directions and stayed nine years A hand-drawn map still folded in a pocket, never used.
when they lit the lamp for a joke and nobody laughed A taper in one hand, a grin fading, and a ring of calm faces nodding thanks.
when they read a notice to the end and it said keeper wanted Nose close to a faded board, lips moving.
when they sheltered from rain and were handed a broom Dripping in a doorway, holding a broom as if it might go off.
when they were the only one tall enough to reach the wick On tiptoe, arm at full stretch, a ring of shorter keepers below.

Little by little 12

a little louder each year, until the neighbours heard it too A whole street at its windows, heads tilted, and one figure pulling on a coat.
after a long argument with the power, which they lost Pointing at the ceiling mid-sentence, then slowly lowering the arm.
after reading every book in town and wanting one more A stack of returned books taller than the desk they sit on.
after thirty years as a ferryman, on a quiet Tuesday Shipping the oars for the last time and looking at both palms.
as the answer to a question they had asked for years Stopped dead in a busy street, mouth a little open.
because visitors kept asking them things and they answered A queue forming in front of someone who only came in to sit down.
in the third summer they were paid to mow a shrine's grass A scythe on one shoulder and a paid bill pinned up beside two older ones.
late, once the children were grown and the house was quiet Locking a front door and looking at the key for a while.
on the hundredth visit, when they stayed to lock up A hundred small marks on a doorpost and a hand turning a latch.
one swept step at a time, without ever deciding A long stair, half of it clean, and a figure in the middle of it.
out of plain liking for the smell of lamp oil Nose over an oil jar, eyes shut, entirely happy.
when the shrine cat began to wait for them and nobody else A cat on a gatepost at dusk, watching one figure come up the road.

How this list was compiled: Original list written for Draw This Next, October 2026. Every faith on this page is invented: a keeper tends a shrine to a power that is told only by what it watches over. No real religion, god, scripture, rite, order or title is named, and none is meant. The origin of the word cleric (through church Latin from a Greek word, klerikos) was checked on 2026-10-01 against https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clergy. The notes on what to draw are our own suggestions. Licence: own work

Served at: all 60 places

By the road 12

a bridge shrine that takes offerings where others take tolls A niche in a parapet with a bowl of buttons, nuts and one coin.
a crossroads shrine where four signposts disagree Four fingerposts on one pole and a lamp niche at knee height.
a hilltop cairn that every passer adds a stone to A heap taller than the keeper, who is straightening the top.

Show all 60 places (57 more)

By the road, continued

a hut at the top of a pass, with a horn for bad weather A stone hut, a long horn on pegs and cloud at window level.
a milestone shrine no bigger than a dog kennel A stone hutch with a number on it and one flower in a cup.
a posting-house shrine where riders change horses A lamp niche between two stable doors, one horse looking in.
a pump on a village green, where walkers fill their flasks An iron pump under a small tiled roof, with cups on chains and a lamp bracket.
a rest house on a pilgrim road, thirty beds and one stove A long room of bunks and a line of boots drying round a small stove.
a roadside shrine with one bell A roofed post at a bend, a bell the size of an apple and a pull cord.
a shrine at a ford, under water every spring A post with flood marks up it and a lamp bracket at the very top.
a shrine in the wall of a mountain tunnel A lit alcove halfway through the dark, seen from both ends.
a waystation where the road gives out and the tracks begin Paving on one side of the door, hoofprints on the other.

By the water 12

a boathouse shrine with a bell hung from the rafters Upturned hulls on trestles and a rope hanging between them.
a cliff shrine whose lamp the fishing boats steer by A squat tower on a headland with one bright window facing the sea.
a lock-keeper's shrine on a slow canal A niche in the lock wall with a tide of offerings at the waterline.
a net loft over a fish store, half shrine and half attic Up a ladder among hanging nets, with a lamp in the gable window.
a pool where thrown coins have paved the bottom A round pool that glints, and a keeper with a long-handled rake.
a quayside shrine that smells of tar and fish A doorway between net stores, with floats hung round it like fruit.
a river barge shrine that never ties up twice in one town A deckhouse with a bell on its roof and washing on its rail.
a shrine at a duck pond, visited mostly by ducks A lamp on a post at the water's edge and a line of ducks walking up to it.
a shrine at a village washing place, loud on Mondays A stone trough, a row of scrubbing backs and a lamp on a shelf above the splash.
a shrine in a harbour ice house, cold in every season Thick walls, sawdust underfoot, frost on the lamp glass and visitors in coats.
a spring in a cave, down sixty wet steps A stair cut in rock, a rope handrail and a glimmer at the bottom.
an island shrine reached by a rowing boat and a wave A rock, a roof and a keeper on the jetty with a boathook.

In town 12

a clock tower shrine above a noisy square A room behind the clock face, lit through the numerals.
a great domed hall, where they kept one small side lamp A vast floor, a far ceiling and one tiny flame by a pillar.
a library shrine where silence is the rite A reading desk with a lamp and a sign that says only Shh.
a market shrine that opens when the stalls do A fold-down shutter with a lamp behind, between cabbages and cloth.
a school's shrine, busiest in exam week A queue of pupils with inky fingers and anxious faces.
a shrine among the ledgers in a guildhall cellar Shelves of account books and a lamp on a crate between them.
a shrine in a public bathhouse A tiled alcove, a steamed-up lamp and a row of clogs.
a shrine in the corner of a law court A small lamp behind the public benches, visited before verdicts.
a shrine in the doorway of a shut-down bank Tall brass doors chained shut and a lamp on the top step between two stone lions.
a shrine on the top landing of a crowded tenement Nine flights of washing lines and a lamp at the head of the stair.
a street-corner shrine with a queue at midday A niche in a wall and office workers waiting with their lunch.
the oldest shrine in the city, now mostly a shortcut People cutting through with shopping, nodding at the lamp as they pass.

High and far 12

a cave shrine lit by a hole in the roof at noon A shaft of light landing exactly on a stone bowl.
a forest shrine in the roots of a great tree A lamp glowing between roots as thick as a person.
a hermit's hut a day above the last village A stone hut under a boulder with a path of single footprints.
a ledge shrine halfway up a cliff path A lamp in a rock niche with a sheer drop one step behind the visitor.
a shrine at the end of a boardwalk across a bog A plank path, bog cotton either side and a hut on a hummock.
a shrine at the last farm before the moor A lit window, then nothing but heather to the edge of the page.
a shrine in a quarry, cut from the last good block A cube of dressed stone standing alone on a floor of rubble.
a shrine on a sea stack, kept by whoever lost the draw A pillar of rock offshore, a rowing boat pulling away and one figure left waving.
a snow-line shrine, carried lower each winter A hut on runners and two keepers hauling it downhill.
a watchtower shrine on a border nobody guards now A tower with grass on its stairs and a lamp where the beacon was.
a well house in the dry country, a week from anywhere A dome of mud brick, one palm and tracks arriving from every side.
an ice-lake shrine, cut fresh from the lake each winter A hut of cut ice blocks, glowing faintly from inside.

Odd corners 12

a hollow oak that holds three people standing A door hung in a trunk and a lamp bracket screwed into living wood.
a niche in a city wall, the width of a door A recess in huge masonry, with a stool that fills it.
a rooftop shrine among pigeon lofts Chimneys, coops, a ladder and a lamp under a tin hood.
a shrine in a bandstand, open to the weather on eight sides An eight-sided roof on posts in a park, a lamp hung where the conductor would stand.
a shrine in a beekeeper's garden, hives on three sides A bench, a lamp and a keeper in a veil.
a shrine in a dry fountain in a square nobody crosses A stone basin with a lamp where the water came out, and weeds in the paving.
a shrine in a ferry waiting room A bench of travellers with bundles, a chalked timetable and a lamp on the sill.
a shrine in a greenhouse, warm when nothing else is Misted glass, a lamp among tomato plants and a queue of visitors in scarves.
a shrine in a mine, at the foot of the first ladder A candle shelf cut in rock, with helmets hung beside it.
a shrine in a playhouse prop room A lamp on a shelf between a paper crown and a stuffed swan.
a shrine in a windmill, turning with the cap A lamp on a beam that swings slowly round as the wind shifts.
a shrine on a cart, pulled between nine villages A painted box on wheels with a roof, a bell and a patient mule.

How this list was compiled: Original list written for Draw This Next, October 2026. Each place is an invented shrine, told by where it stands and what a visitor would see. No real building, site or pilgrimage is named, and none is meant; buildings that belong to one living faith were left out. Two words in the list were checked on 2026-10-01: a shrine is a space set apart for a figure of respect (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shrine) and a cairn is a pile of stones raised by people, usually as a marker (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cairn). The notes on what to draw are our own suggestions. Licence: own work

Sworn to: all 60 powers

Roads and crossings 12

a power of gates, equally fond of open and shut Emblem: a gate drawn half open, so nobody can say which.
a power of milestones, which counts for the tired Emblem: a row of stones getting smaller toward a horizon.
a road power said to wear out its own shoes Emblem: a sandal with a hole in the sole, hung up like a trophy.

Show all 60 powers (57 more)

Roads and crossings, continued

the guardian of thresholds and first steps Emblem: a doorstep worn into a dip, seen from above.
the guide of lost things back to their owners Emblem: a glove on a fence post with one finger pointing.
the one who walks behind the last in any line Emblem: a row of walkers and one empty space at the end.
the patron of bridge builders and second thoughts Emblem: an arch with a small figure paused at the middle.
the patron of maps, and of the blank parts most of all Emblem: a compass rose in an empty square.
the power of fords, which asks only that you look first Emblem: three stepping stones and a ripple.
the power that keeps promises made on a journey Emblem: a knot in a walking staff.
the power that watches crossroads and never says which way Emblem: four arrows pointing outward from one closed eye.
the watcher over anyone walking home in the dark Emblem: two small footprints inside one large one.

Weather and seasons 12

a frost power that signs every window Emblem: a fern of ice in one corner of a pane.
a harvest power nobody thanks until the frost Emblem: one ear of grain under a snowflake.
a rain power known for turning up a week late Emblem: three slanting lines over a calendar square.
a thunder power that enjoys being argued with Emblem: a cloud with one raised eyebrow.
a wind power that carries news and loses hats Emblem: a hat in mid-air above a startled circle.
the power in the turn of the tide Emblem: one wave drawn going both ways.
the power of first thaw and muddy boots Emblem: a boot print filling with water.
the power of fog, patron of those who wait Emblem: a bench, half drawn, fading out to the right.
the power of long summer evenings, in no hurry at all Emblem: a very long shadow from a very small post.
the small power of the day coats come off Emblem: a coat over an arm.
the warden of the coldest hour, just before light Emblem: a horizon line with the faintest arc above it.
the watcher of the longest night, who counts the lamps Emblem: a tally of small flames in a dark square.

Home and table 12

a broom power, sworn enemy of corners Emblem: a broom drawn diagonally across a square.
a kitchen power that watches slow pots and patience Emblem: a lid lifted by one thread of steam.
a power of attics and of things kept just in case Emblem: a trunk under a sloping line, with one cobweb.
a power of wells that listens more than it answers Emblem: a circle within a circle and one falling drop.
the guardian of hearths and of whoever is late home Emblem: a plate kept warm under an upturned bowl.
the minder of cradles and of sleeping through the night Emblem: a crescent moon lying on its back like a rocker.
the patron of borrowed sugar, returned or not Emblem: a twist of paper passed from hand to hand over a fence.
the patron of mended things Emblem: a cup with a visible seam of rivets.
the patron of spare beds and unexpected guests Emblem: a folded blanket with a sprig laid on top.
the power of the door left on the latch Emblem: a latch lifted the width of a finger.
the power of the last candle in the house Emblem: a stub in a saucer with a tall flame.
the warden of names said at supper Emblem: an open mouth and a spoon, side by side.

Work and craft 12

a forge power that prefers hinges to swords Emblem: a strap hinge crossed with a hammer.
a power of ants and of work done without thanks Emblem: a single crumb, carried.
a power of weights and fair measures Emblem: a balance drawn dead level.
the minder of looms and of dropped stitches Emblem: a row of loops with one hanging lower.
the patron of anyone learning a trade late Emblem: a large hand holding a small tool carefully.
the patron of ink, and of what gets crossed out Emblem: a word under a single neat line.
the patron of lamplighters and early risers Emblem: a long pole touching a rising sun.
the patron of night shifts and cold suppers Emblem: one lit window in a dark wall.
the power of a potter's second attempt Emblem: a lopsided bowl beside a round one.
the power of nets, knots and patience Emblem: a diamond mesh with one knot drawn large.
the power of scaffolds, ladders and steady hands Emblem: a ladder against nothing, perfectly upright.
the warden of seeds through winter Emblem: a closed jar with one sprout inside.

Small and overlooked 12

a power of pauses, seldom asked for anything Emblem: a blank circle. Leave it blank.
a power of the spare key under the flowerpot Emblem: a flowerpot tipped up on a small key.
a power so minor it has only the one shrine Emblem: a dot. The keepers are quite proud of the dot.
the minder of things said under the breath Emblem: a mouth behind a raised hand.
the patron of forgotten errands Emblem: an empty basket hung on a door handle.
the patron of stray cats and of whoever feeds them Emblem: a saucer and a tail leaving the frame.
the patron of the left-handed Emblem: a left hand, open, drawn by somebody's right.
the patron of weeds that flower in walls Emblem: one small flower growing from a crack between bricks.
the power of misheard words Emblem: an ear with a question mark curled inside.
the power of second helpings Emblem: a ladle over a bowl that is already full.
the small power of stones still warm after sunset Emblem: an oval with three short wavy lines above it.
the watcher over whoever is picked last Emblem: a row of dots and one set a little apart.

How this list was compiled: Original list written for Draw This Next, October 2026. Every power here was made up for this list and has no name: it is told only by what it watches over, such as a road, a season, a trade or a small everyday thing. Powers of roads, weather, hearths and trades are found in many real traditions, old and living. Some here will resemble one of those by chance; none is meant as one. The notes on what to draw are our own suggestions for a shrine's emblem. Licence: own work

Spent the days: all 60 duties

Lamps and bells 12

carrying a flame to the nearest houses at midwinter A covered pan of coals and a street of doors opening one by one.
counting the lamps twice a day and getting two answers A finger moving along a shelf of lamps and a puzzled look back at the start.
keeping one lamp lit through every storm Both hands round a flame, back to the wind, hair flying.

Show all 60 duties (57 more)

Lamps and bells, continued

lighting the path lamps at dusk and snuffing them at dawn A long pole with a wick on the end, reaching up at dusk.
measuring the lamp oil and making it last A dipstick held up to the light, and a careful frown.
polishing a bell nobody is allowed to ring A rag, a shine, and the clapper tied back with cord.
pouring new candles from the stubs of old ones A pot of wax, a row of tin forms and a basket of ends.
ringing a hand bell in fog so walkers could find the door An arm swinging a bell at a wall of white.
ringing once for each visitor, so the power could keep count One hand on a rope and a row of chalk strokes on the wall beside it.
sitting the night vigil so the others could sleep A stool, a lamp turned low and a keeper pinching one arm to stay awake.
sounding a horn at dusk for anyone still out Cheeks full, feet braced, a long horn resting on a wall.
wiping soot off the lamp glass until it squeaked A glass chimney held up to a window, with one thumb through a rag.

At the door 12

answering the knocker at any hour A candle, a nightcap and a door already opening.
hearing the same story from the same visitor each week Nodding at the right moments, lips almost moving along.
holding coats, baskets and babies for visitors Arms full to the chin, entirely calm.
keeping the door unlocked and a stool just inside it A door ajar and a stool just inside, with a cushion somebody has added.
lending umbrellas and writing down who had which A stand of mismatched umbrellas by the door and a list with most names crossed off.
minding the shoes left at the door Rows of pairs by the wall, and one stray being quietly matched with its mate.
opening the door at dawn without asking why anyone came A bar lifted, a door swung in and a nod to whoever is there.
pointing lost walkers the right way, twice if needed An arm held out along a lane and a walker setting off the other way anyway.
settling who was next when two arrived at once A hand held out flat between two people, palm down.
sitting with whoever did not want to talk Two figures on a bench, a hand's width apart, saying nothing.
sweeping the step before anyone could see it needed it A broom, a lamp set down, and the sky still dark.
turning nobody away, including the goat A goat on the threshold, being shown where the straw is.

Pen and paper 12

answering questions that arrived by post from far towns A basket of letters, a pot of ink and a long evening.
copying a crumbling book before the damp won Two books side by side, one brown and soft, one white and half full.
drawing the map that visitors asked for most A stack of the same sketch map, each with one arrow.
keeping a calendar of who was owed a visit Pins in a board, each with a thread to a house on a sketch of the town.
keeping the book of births in a careful hand A big ledger, a ruler and a baby being held up for inspection.
painting new signs when the rain faded the old A board on trestles, a steady brush and a tongue between the teeth.
reading letters aloud and leaving out the unkind parts Eyes skipping a line. The listener is smiling.
recording every offering, down to the buttons A column of small drawings: an egg, a nail, a button, an egg.
teaching children their letters on the steps Chalk on stone, a row of small backs and one big one.
witnessing bargains so both sides remembered alike Standing between two handshaking farmers with a notebook.
writing letters for people who could not write A visitor talking with their hands. The keeper's pen keeps pace.
writing names on slips for a wall of thanks A wall feathered with paper, lifting in the breeze from the door.

Food and beds 12

baking for whoever came to the door hungry Sleeves pushed up, a peel in hand and loaves cooling on a sill.
bottling fruit for the winter store Jars in rows, sugar to the elbows and a wasp in attendance.
carrying a hot supper to houses that had stopped visiting A covered dish, a knock, and a door opening a crack.
feeding the doves at the same hour daily A scatter of grain and wings arriving from every roof.
keeping a kettle hot for anyone at any hour A kettle with a blackened base and a handle wrapped in rag.
keeping hens and sending each visitor off with an egg A hen under one arm and a visitor holding a warm egg in both hands.
ladling soup at noon, to all, no questions A pot the size of a washtub and a line of bowls held out.
making up beds for walkers who arrived after dark A sheet snapped out over a bunk by lamplight.
minding the shelf of lost things, mostly gloves A plank of single gloves, each with a date on a tag.
pressing apples each harvest for anyone with a jug A screw press, a queue of children and a bucket filling.
stuffing wet boots with straw and turning them by the stove A row of boots by a stove door, steaming, toes outward.
tending a kitchen garden in poor soil Kneeling among short rows, talking a bean plant upward.

Small repairs 12

asking the pigeons to leave the rafters, politely A long pole with a rag on it, waved without conviction.
clearing the path before first light, whatever had fallen A shovel, a rake and a lamp hung on a post.
emptying the gutters of whatever autumn had put there Arm deep in a gutter at the top of a ladder, flinging out leaves.
gluing chair legs that visitors had rocked loose A chair upside down on a bench with string wound round one leg.
keeping moss off the steps and on the roof Scraping green from a stair with a blunt knife, leaving the tiles furry.
laying the path stones straight after every hard rain On both knees, walking a flat stone back into line.
marking each child's height on a post every spring A post crowded with notches and initials, and a small head held very straight.
re-hanging the shutter that every gale took down Leaning out of a window with a shutter under one arm and two screws in the teeth.
replacing the lamp chain as often as it wore through A coil of new chain over one shoulder, climbing a ladder.
scrubbing candle wax off the floor On hands and knees with a scraper, following a trail of pale drops.
sewing buttons back on for anyone who would wait A visitor in shirtsleeves on a bench and a keeper biting off a thread.
whitewashing the walls every spring A bucket, a wide brush and a stripe of bright wall growing sideways.

How this list was compiled: Original list written for Draw This Next, October 2026. Each duty is ordinary work a keeper of an invented shrine might do: lamps, the door, letters, food, repairs. No rite, office or daily rule of a real religion is named, and none is meant. The notes on what to draw are our own suggestions. Licence: own work

Faith was tested: all 60 tests

When nothing answered 12

by a clear night sky that made the lamp look very small A keeper on the step under a huge sky of stars, and one small flame in the doorway behind.
by a silence where an answer used to be Head tilted, one hand cupped to an ear, eyebrows coming down.
in a drought that outlasted every rite they knew A book of rites open at the last page, and a cloudless window.

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When nothing answered, continued

in a storm they had promised a village would pass At a window with their back to a room full of worried faces.
the night their lamp went out and nothing happened A dark room, a cold wick and a keeper waiting for something to change.
through a winter when nobody came at all One set of footprints from door to woodpile and back, many times over.
when a bell cracked on the biggest day of the year A crowd looking up at one flat clank.
when a sign they had waited for all their life did not come Sitting on a hilltop at dawn with a packed lunch, uneaten.
when an answer finally came, and it was only maybe A weathercock pointing halfway between two quarters and a keeper squinting up at it.
when the old words went flat in their own mouth Mid-rite, stopped, looking at a page as if it were in another language.
when the visitor who believed most stopped coming A bench with a worn patch and nobody on it.
when they first asked for something for themselves A keeper alone with the lamp at midnight, mouth half open, one eye on the door.

When things went wrong 12

when a fair they had planned all year was rained off Wet bunting, empty trestles and a keeper under a dripping awning.
when a fire left only the doorstep A step, a scorched ring of ground and a keeper sitting on the step.
when a flood took the records of a hundred years Pages pegged on a line to dry, every one of them blank.
when a friend's bad year would not turn, whatever they did Two cups on a table, one untouched, and a long look at the floor.
when a spring they had vouched for turned bitter A cup lowered from the lips and a face trying to stay neutral.
when mice got into the seed they were minding for a village A sack with a neat hole, a thin trail of grain and a keeper on both knees.
when the keeper who trained them walked away from it all A robe folded on a stool and a door standing open.
when the lamp was carried off and the oil left behind A ring in the dust where a lamp stood, and a full flask beside it.
when the road was moved and the visitors went with it Grass coming up between paving stones and a new road far off.
when the roof fell in a week after they mended it Sitting on a heap of slates with a hammer across both knees.
when the roof fund vanished with its treasurer An empty cash box, lid up, and a list of small donations.
when their own letters for help came back unopened A stack of envelopes, seals unbroken, their own handwriting on every one.

By an offer 12

by a bargeman with room for one more and no questions A barge at a bank, a patted cabin roof and a keeper looking back over one shoulder.
by a book that explained everything another way A thick book open on the knees and the lamp burning low, unnoticed.
by a chance to go home and be ordinary A road sign with a home town on it and a foot half lifted.
by a comfortable doubt that asked nothing of them An armchair, a blanket and a book face down, with a broom leaning in the corner.
by a merchant who would pay well for the old bell A purse on a table and a bell on a table, and a keeper between.
by a prize for the best-kept shrine, and wanting it Polishing a step that is already clean, glancing down the road for judges.
by a rich visitor who wanted the rites changed A ringed hand pointing at a page and a keeper's hand flat on the same page.
by a seat on a town council, with a cushion A carved chair pulled out and waiting, and a keeper who has not taken off the apron.
by praise, which they found they liked A small pleased smile, quickly straightened.
by the offer of a richer shrine in a bigger town A letter with a gold seal, propped against a plain clay lamp.
by the plain wish to sleep through one dawn One eye open at first light, glaring at a window.
by word of an easier power two valleys over A visitor describing something with big gestures. The keeper listens too closely.

By a question 12

when a child asked who lights the power's own lamp A small pointing finger and a keeper with an open mouth.
when a farmer asked them to keep a secret from the power A farmer whispering at the keeper's ear, and the keeper glancing sideways at the lamp.
when a sailor asked if the power worked out at sea A sailor with a bundle, a thumb jerked over one shoulder and a keeper with no chart.
when a scholar proved the shrine younger than its story A visitor with a measuring rod and a keeper staring at a foundation stone.
when a stranger knew the same power by another name Two people describing one thing with different hands.
when a visitor asked if the power minded being asked A visitor with a hat in both hands and a keeper rubbing the back of their neck.
when a visitor thanked the power for the keeper's own work A mended gate, a grateful face turned upward, a hammer hidden behind a back.
when asked to say the words over a thing they thought wrong A book of rites held shut with both hands.
when someone asked what they would be without the robe Looking down at their own sleeves as if for the first time.
when someone asked who kept the lamp before the first keeper A finger running up a list of names on a wall to a blank space at the top.
when the oldest visitor said it was all better before A very old finger wagging and a keeper nodding, jaw tight.
when their own pupil stopped believing first A smaller broom hung up on its nail, and a pupil in the doorway with arms folded.

By other people 12

by a fashion for a louder power Drums going by in the street while a small lamp burns unnoticed.
by a neighbour who did as much good and kept no shrine A neighbour mending a stranger's shoe on her own doorstep, with no lamp, no bell and no sign.
by a new tax on bells A bell with a paper tag on it and an official holding out a hand.
by a rival shrine nearby that gave better soup Two doors facing each other and a queue at only one of them.
by a written complaint about sweeping before dawn A folded note under the door and a keeper reading it by first light.
by an inspector with a checklist A stranger running a gloved finger along a shelf and looking at it.
when a crowd wanted a wonder and they had only soup A hundred expectant faces and one ladle.
when a new granary went up and hid the lamp from the road Fresh brickwork taller than the keeper, who is standing on a bucket to see over.
when a new keeper arrived with newer rites Two keepers at one lamp, each with a hand on the oil can.
when a painter gave the power the mayor's face A fresh mural, a smug official and a keeper with a bucket of whitewash.
when a quarrel split the visitors between two doors A rope down the middle of a bench.
when a whole valley thanked a different power for its rain A procession going past the door with flowers, not stopping.

How this list was compiled: Original list written for Draw This Next, October 2026. Each test is a doubt, a loss, an offer, a hard question or a rival, told without injury and without mocking belief. Every faith on this page is invented, and no event in the history of a real religion is named or meant. The notes on what to draw are our own suggestions. Licence: own work

Carries: all 60 signs

Lamp and bell 12

a candle made of the stubs of a hundred vigils Stripes of many waxes, like rings in a tree.
a candle mould that turns out slightly bent candles A dented tin tube and, beside it, a row of candles with the same slight curve.
a censer mended with wire A small pierced pot with a lid and a handle, its cracked foot bound with wire.

Show all 60 signs (57 more)

Lamp and bell, continued

a clay lamp with a thumbprint that is not theirs The print is in the base, from whoever made it.
a jar of soot from a lamp that burned a hundred years Sealed with wax. It weighs almost nothing.
a lamp hook from their first post, still black with smoke An iron S on the pack strap. A lamp hangs from it at every stop.
a lamp the size of a walnut, for dark stairs Held on one palm. The whole flame would fit under a thimble.
a snuffer worn bright at the handle A little brass cone on a stick, hung at the belt like a tool.
a spare clapper, in case somebody's bell needs one An iron pear on a loop. It has been lent twice.
a tin reflector that doubles a lamp in bad weather A dished disc behind the flame and a brighter patch of fog ahead.
a wick from the shrine's first lamp, never lit since Coiled in a tin the size of a coin.
the end of a bell rope, spliced into a carrying handle A fat knot of old rope on the pack, shiny where hands have been.

Left by visitors 12

a baby's first shoe, left in gratitude Smaller than the hand that holds it, with a knot in the lace.
a coin too worn to spend, given in thanks Smooth as a pebble. No face is left on either side.
a dried bean, one family's whole offering in a hard year In a twist of cloth. They would not swap it for gold.
a fishing float painted with an eye It bobs from the pack strap, looking backward.
a glass marble a child left in the offering bowl Green glass with a twist of white, rolled between finger and thumb.
a letter of thanks they have never felt they earned Kept folded. The creases have gone furry.
a ring made from a horseshoe nail A bent nail with its head left on like a stone, kept on a thumb.
a snail shell with a note rolled up inside A curl of paper just showing at the mouth of the shell. They have not pulled it out.
a square of patchwork with a piece from every household Corners unpicked and restitched as families came and went.
a tin gull left by a sailor Flat, wings spread, pinned inside the hood.
a wax seal from a debt forgiven on the step A red disc snapped clean in two and kept as halves.
a weaver's shuttle, given when coins ran short Boxwood, pointed at both ends, with a few turns of blue thread still on it.

Marks of the office 12

a book of rites with the last pages blank A ribbon marker at the place where the writing stops.
a cloak pin in the shape of a lit window Pewter, a small arch with a chip of yellow glass set in it.
a keeper's badge cut from the lid of an oil tin A tin disc at the collar, the maker's stamp still showing through the scratches.
a keeper's coat with a lamp-shaped scorch on one pocket A brown mark the shape of a small flame, just where a hand would rest.
a keeper's sash, faded everywhere but under the knot Untied, it shows one square of the old bright colour.
a lantern cut to throw the power's emblem on a wall A tin lantern with one shape cut in its side, and the same shape in light on a wall.
a ledger of offerings with a moth pressed in it A pale wing shape on the page for one particular summer.
a ring of office too big, wound with thread to fit A fat band of cotton round the back of a plain ring.
a robe let down twice at the hem and taken up once Three faded fold lines above the edge.
a wooden clapper for calling the hours quietly Two boards on a hinge, worn hollow where they meet.
an offering bowl worn thin at the rim Held to the light, the edge glows.
the old keeper's spectacles, which do not suit their eyes Pushed up on the forehead and never looked through.

For the work 12

a cloth sieve for lamp oil Stained gold, folded in eight.
a duster of dove feathers, picked up one at a time A fan of grey and white feathers bound to a stick, no two the same length.
a funnel no bigger than a thimble, for the smallest lamps Tin, hung on a thread through a buttonhole, with a drop of oil at the tip.
a nest of measuring scoops, for sharing out fairly Four tin scoops that rattle as they walk.
a pot of whitewash and a brush, for touching up White freckles on the back of both hands.
a reed pen and a horn of ink The horn is stoppered with a carved acorn.
a sandglass that runs the length of a vigil Turned over at dusk. They do not need to look at it.
a stiff little brush for wax, hung at the belt Bristles clogged pale. It doubles as a boot brush.
a tin of hinge oil Offered at every squeaking gate, whether asked for or not.
a wick trimmer on a chain Small scissors with a box on one blade to catch the snuff.
slips of paper and a pencil stub, for names A fat little bundle held by a peg.
soft indoor shoes, put on at every doorstep Carried in the sleeves, one each side.

Harder to see 12

a calm that took twenty years to grow Still hands in a room where everyone else is fidgeting.
a doubt, well looked after One hand resting over a breast pocket with nothing in it.
a habit of leaving every door a little open behind them Three doors in a row down a passage, each left open by the same small gap.
a joke a visitor told them years ago, still funny A sudden grin while sweeping, at nothing anyone else can see.
a liking for cold mornings that nobody else shares Sleeves rolled at dawn, breath steaming, beside a companion wrapped to the eyes.
a promise to come back, made to an empty room A last look over the shoulder, drawn from behind.
a tune the shrine door played on its hinges Hummed in three notes whenever they open anything.
every name ever told to them, or so visitors believe Eyes going up and to the left while a stranger waits hopefully.
the first rite they learned, said under the breath on stairs Lips moving on the way up any staircase.
the hour, always, to within a few minutes Glancing at the sky, then being right.
the old keeper's cough before speaking, caught by accident A fist to the mouth, a small sound, then the sentence.
the weight of a lamp that is not in their hand One arm held a little away from the body, fingers curled.

How this list was compiled: Original list written for Draw This Next, October 2026. Each sign is a small thing from an invented shrine: something off the lamp or the bell, a token a visitor left, a mark of office, a tool of the daily work or something that cannot be packed. Objects that belong to the worship of one real religion were left out; a lamp, a bell, a bowl and a censer are used in many. A censer is a vessel made for burning incense, in use around the world since ancient times (checked on 2026-10-01 against https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Censer). Boxwood was one of the usual woods for a weaver's shuttle in the United Kingdom (checked on 2026-10-01 against https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shuttle_(weaving)). The notes on what to draw are our own suggestions. Licence: own work

How it works

This cleric backstory generator deals six parts of a keeper's life: how the call came, where they served, the power they are sworn to, their daily work, the day faith wavered and what they carry. Every faith is invented.

Read the full guide

A keeper, not a soldier

Cleric comes through church Latin from a Greek word, and in stories it means someone who serves a power and tends its shrine. Nobody here is armed. The power is told only by what it watches over, such as thresholds and first steps, so its emblem is yours to design.

Draw the work, then the doubt

The fourth part is the daily job, such as wiping soot off the lamp glass until it squeaked. Draw the hands doing it. The fifth part is the day it nearly stopped making sense, and that is the scene to stage: a keeper, a small flame and a choice.

A shrine reads at a glance by its lamp. Put one small flame somewhere in every picture.
Design the power's emblem as a stamp: one shape, no shading. Then put it on the door, the sash and the bowl.
The sign they carry goes where the hands rest: at the belt, in a sleeve, on a cord.

Questions and answers

Where does the word cleric come from?

From the church Latin clericus, which came from a Greek word, klerikos. It has long meant a member of the clergy. On this page it means the keeper of a shrine in a made-up faith.

Is it about a real religion?

No. Every power was made up for this list and has no name, only something it watches over. Lamps, bells and offerings are found in many real faiths; the prayers, holy days, titles and buildings of any one faith were left out.

Does this cleric fight or heal?

Neither. The lists are about lamps, doors, letters, soup and repairs, and about one day of doubt. Nobody is armed and nothing is cured, which leaves a quiet figure with busy hands to draw.

Is it tied to a tabletop game?

No. Cleric is the plain English word here. No game, rule book, setting or deity from one appears in any list, so a result fits whatever world you already draw or play in.