I should have known.

I should have known from the smell of it. I should have known by the taste of it. It had gone bad, very, very bad. I'm told that the sacrifices that have sat around too long before being offered are not likely to be accepted by the gods, and I was really behind on sacrificing, and  face it, nobody in this town will hire me if I don't go through the proper rituals.

Year after year of seasonal ritual has done nothing toward raising my standard of living. Housing is still expensive, and servants must be fed and we are one drought away from ruin. My debtors are stiffing me.

Yet, the prevailing narrative is "Appease the gods, damp their internecine rivalries, let them turn their attention to us who live in the world they control," but nothing seems to raise their consciousness! Should a god or goddess feel the urge to abduct a mortal and breed demigods, that seems the only time we mortals can influence fate. So it boils down to how seductive you can be to them and how good the sacrifice is. Sacrifice your dignity - which smells bad.