You thought you were so smart.
All the other cultists were making deals with eldritch monsters and dark fiends, they ended up either as slaves to the creatures dark will or they mutated into creatures with 7 eyes and 18 genitals but you decided to be different and bind yourself to a spirit of generosity and kindness, you thought that there was no way a peace loving creature would ever take advantage of you.
You were both right and wrong.
Usually if you want more power as a cultist you just grab an orphan, drag them into a pentagram, cut them open and arrange their entrails into a polite yet firm demand but the moment you even mentioned human sacrifice to you patron they get all upset and start talking about the āsanctity of human lifeā whatever that means.
Your patron tell you that they reward gift giving over anything else so you take a trip into town with a bunch of copper coins and give one to everyone you see, it takes all day but your patron is still all āthat was meaninglessā and ātrue gifts come from the heartā you are at a loss.
Your chamber in the cultist academy is right next to the dungeons of misery where they keep the abstract horrors even the gods look away from. The racket is atrocious. Every night the creatures throw themselves at the rough walls of their cells trying to scratch of their vile rotting skin. The guards have tried to stop them by force but nothing ever works but with all your patrons talk of ākindness is itās own rewardā and āoften the people who have been helped the least need help the mostā something occurs to you. You walk into an alchemist and buy a giant vat of soothing skin balm, that evening you throw the vat into the cages where it is instantly torn apart by about fifteen tentacles at once. The night the dungeon was silent and you patron gifted you your first invocation.
