To Err and to Forgive (Open)

J O R Y

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The exhilaration was heady, a little bit like getting off without all the effort and mess. At this rate, if he was ever blessed enough to stand in the presence he might just keel over dead; good thing they seemed like they were easing back into interacting with the world with tiny floral miracles.

The praying man opened his eyes and Jory, searched his face for reflections of his own reaction but was a little disappointed in the seeming lack of energy in the other man. This was no time to be lackadaisical! “Nothing happened?!” His tone was incredulous, lifting to an astonishingly high pitch. Jory sprung of from his crouched position with a desperate little flail towards the shrine. “Always! They insist on playing with their eyes closed! The Gods wouldn’t give us eyes if they didn’t what us to see shit! What about the rustley leaves?” He makes a little whirlwind motion with his hands to illustrate. “No? And the flowers? The flowers with the sprouting?” A little sprouting motion with one hand. Did this man think flowers really grew that fast?

Jorseval didn’t wait for a response from that, not really expecting Koel to change his story and with an exaggerated sigh of defeat reached over to try and pat the man’s cheek. “Oh you beautiful idiot. No, I’m not a god, just their servant. Call me Jory, if you will. I don’t know what you’re expecting but look!” He whirls again, still rife with kinetic energy and makes a ‘ta-da’ motion towards the flowers. “That’s Rae giving you a sign After hundreds of years of silence that’s not nothing!” He was positively beaming as he watched Koel reach to pick some of the flowers, maybe he was starting to understand what a blessing this was after all. The priest was not one to leave the interpretation of godly things up for debate. This was a tiny, tiny miracle but still fucking miraculous and may Mort take him now it he wasn’t going to make sure this man understood that!

He was about to drive his point home when the Gods threw another player in the mix. Jory looked to see a second man fall to the ground, looking like he had brought some of wherever he’d been before with him: water splashed around him and a weapon fell aside, broken. More than a little stunned (he surely hadn’t been expecting quite so much activity in his coming here) he let Koel go alone to the newcomer’s side.

There was a terror that covered the man and it sparked an unease for a moment in Jory. Not until Koel glanced back at him did the Priest move into action. He was less frantic now, more set in his movements as he crouched again to join. “Leave off questions just now.“ He murmured to Koel and displaying the opposite of his new acquaintance’s  restraint, immediately reached in to try and grip Hope ’s hands over where they clutched at his heart. If the God’s wanted him here, then Jory was ready to help. “Steady there, Outlander.” His voice wasn’t particularly soft or soothing, but he made it firm. A weapon meant a soldier, right? And don’t soldier’s respond to orders? “Peace. Mort’s not come for you yet.”