J O R Y
Jorseval had been sleeping.
Metaphorically, not literally—he hadn’t actually been sleeping much at all lately—but as a self-proclaimed servant of the Gods, he had been neglecting his duties of diligence when it came to strange happenings in Caido. The influx of outlanders he’s more or less ignored up until this point, and if nothing else had happened he could have cited the excuse of “I’ll do it tomorrow” in perpetuity. The thing was it wasn’t an incredibly busy life being a priest for God’s who didn’t seem to be around much. And now there was a shrine—a shriiine—in the glade. The. Glade. Let’s be honest, Jory was a little pissed that he hadn’t found it first given how much time he spent lazing about there. Still, if this wasn’t a motivator to be a little more proactive then what was?
He came as the crow, and was surprised but pleased to see that there was already someone there. The God’s deserved their due devotion, hibernation or no. The man was kneeling, praying it seemed, though Jory missed the words spoken. The shrine stirs, a subtle thrum of power that Jory can only see from the air: a stirring of leaves, the blooming of flowers. His caw of surprise and elation is muffled by the small stone in his beak and he dives for the ground to land near the kneeling man. In all his years this was the first true sign of power that he’d witnessed. He had built his life on faith and now had the reward of witness.
The crow hops forward and carefully nestles the glow stone among the newly sprouted flowers before fluttering around to face the man. As he moves back towards hime the crow becomes man and Jory crouches to try and meet the supplicant eye to eye. His face is a little wild, eyes wide as he tries to collect as much of the moment in his memory as he can. “What happened?!” The question is quick, positively shaking with excitement. “What did you feel? Did they speak to you?!”
