Tarlok knew he had done something notable (And foolish, and stupid, and reckless...) and he had done it in front of more or less the whole priesthood and their apprenticeship and a good chunk of the population of Yael. So some recognition was in order. Tarlok just thought he would have to work a little more merchant magic to get it.
His parents had been leery of sending their good luck charm out to a little seaside town, but one didn't ignore a priests summons and their concern was borne of the fear that he would get taken or accosted on the road. If not by spirits (whether he had angered them or obeyed them was a matter of debate for his aunts and uncles at the family's emergency get-togethers and strategy meetings) then by bandits, mainlanders, shadow monsters, or those poison monsters known as Elaria. There were so many dangers these days.
Tarlok had had to smile very convincingly, and say that not only was he good luck himself but he was answering a priest's summons - that had to carry some measure of protection. That had been enough for them to let him go... But not without attaching himself to a trade caravan, securing a promise of hospitality from a merchant family in the area, and making him travel with many many of their finest talismans... just in case.
The trip was, aside from someone from the caravan coming down with a very unpleasant sickness, uneventful. His message had been relayed to the priest in question upon his arrival - he'd sent a letter when he'd left but it was always good form to make sure that a message was recieved.
In the meantime, the merchant family had heard he was lucky and so he'd settled in for the first of his few days in town with a truly fantastic dinner and whereby he relayed his story with embellishments... and offloaded some of the talismans he'd been carrying for a neat little sum. Apparently, they thought the items would be more effective after being held by him. Tarlok was sure that there were Yaeli who would think the opposite, but - he hoped - the priest was not one of them. That would be awkward.
That morning, after enjoying the luxury of washing up properly, Tarlok recieved directions to the temple and set off there, cocky and confident in his stride. Inside, however, he was thinking long and hard about just what would happen... besides the return of his dagger, of course. The temple itself was not hard to find. It was quaint and rural, but well-kept. He paused, just inside the doorway, looking up at the symbol of the gods enshrined within. Was there a presence here, or would it be like all of the other times he'd stepped into a temple - all words and ritual, and very little else?