Sinclair sighs and rolls his eyes once again at the goblin.
"I was not referring to a scale of power, but ease of access to the mortal plane, Stukos. And don't start with the 'mortal' thing, the only difference between our mortalities is that yours has run out."
He turned to Mikaya.
"Fine, here's the whole story, if it'll get you off my back. We were rather lucrative when it came to our actions, at some times actually being paid by the nobles of our fortress for our services. One day, not too long ago, we were besieged by daemons. We were confident in the strength of our soldiers and in the cunning of our traps, but we underestimated our opponent. Soon, the fortress was falling. The nobles turned to us for aid, asking us to draw more from our god than ever before. It was working, and our brothers began to fight on even after their wounds were fatal, the fallen rising to join them. Even then, the nobles pushed us harder..."
The dwarf grimaces and continues on.
"They pushed us too hard. The amount of divine power was too much for even us to contain, and it let loose like a wave of damnation. It killed the daemons alright, but it killed is too. Almost everyone was dead, only the most in-tune of the priests were able to survive, the magic bypassing them. Everything we had fought for was gone, so we went our separate ways. Most went back to different forts, spreading news of the tragedy. Many of them were found murdered, killed by those who blamed them for the loss. Many ended their lives in grief, believing that is was their fault.
I and a few others continued on with our lives, knowing that it was the fault of the damn nobles. I came here to start again, to gather new believers and to prove to my brothers and everyone else that it was not our fault. But it seems that will not happen."