Sortition: Enric Porras | Glowfic Constellation

the-ones-who-wait

Enric's parents raised him right. He grew up knowing the names of the old gods, what good and evil are, and that a good life still takes you to heaven even if hell rules on earth. He learned to hold on to every bit of truth and light and family and community that's left and pass it on generation after generation, keep good alive until the old gods come back and bring the age of glory.

For years Enric did the best he could, for a peasant living in a village in Infernal Cheliax. He always worked hard (and every few years, there was a blessing on the fields from a real cleric). It's everyone's job to make sure the village had enough to spare for his uncle who got sent to the 'wound and came back less an arm and a leg, for the orphans who would get taken to the city if no one could take care of them here, and even the halflings when the lord of the manor cut off their rations as a punishment. Enric kept his head down and didn't try to stand up to the cleric of hell or the manor-lord and his men, but he's proud to say that he's never given anyone up to them. Not when they offered money if he could name a neighbor who still sang songs of the old gods, not when they asked if anyone had seen a traveler heading for the Andoran border, not even when they pretended someone had already turned on him.

Every day he tried to find some good to do, hopefully enough for heaven someday. Every night he gave thanks to Erastil and Jadis and The Sun for everything the world provides, and asked Aroden and Iomedae and Milani to come back with the age of glory as soon as they can.

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the-ones-who-wait

Until...

Aroden came back to life and sent an earthquake to break Egorian and the power of church and crown. The Age of Glory!

Iomedae rode into the streets and with her sword single-handedly slew Rovagug. Or a dragon, some people say. A Rovagug-dragon? Either way, she killed it and now she's the queen of Cheliax. The age of glory!

The cleric who makes the fields grow a terce can visit every year. The age of glory!

The cleric who tortures people will never visit again. The age of glory!

Everyone got together and burned down the manor, so there's no lord and no rents anymore. The age of glory!

The new queen is going to listen to the people about how to rule. The age of glory!

No one is getting conscripted to fight in the 'wound anymore. The age of glory!

It's all finally here, the world is made new again and the potential of humanity finally unleashed.

the-ones-who-wait

Even in the age of glory, there's still planting in the spring. There's still fences that need mending, still foxes that need to be kept away from the chickens, firewood that needs to be brought in. So he's back outside working.

levons-nous

And now there's a man standing in his field. About thirty year old, from the north, perhaps, wearing expensive city clothes. Nothing that would make it obvious to Enric that he's a wizard, except that he wasn't there a moment ago.

the-ones-who-wait

‘Mysterious person dressed in expensive clothes suddenly appears’ could be a wizard, fairy, archduke, god, demon, or anything else in that general category. Common wisdom for those kinds says you usually can’t run, so just be polite, avoid giving it your name. and pray it’s a friendly one.

A moment of surprise, then Enric puts down what he’s carrying, stands up straight, and takes his hat off respectfully.

levons-nous

"Good morning." He's guessing it's morning, because this is his first schedule stop of the day, but he's fresh out of the demiplane and not entirely sure. "You are Enric Porras?"

the-ones-who-wait

It already knows his name and is here for him specifically. Means he can’t just keep his head down, wait for it to move on. Enric has a bit of practice at ‘stay still, don’t look too obviously frightened, wait for them to say what they want’.

“Good morning, and that’s me.”

Gods of good, please say this is one of yours.

levons-nous

"Good. My name is Julien Camille Élie Cotonnet. It is my honor to inform you that you have been selected as a delegate to the upcoming constitutional convention. ....You do know that there's to be a constitutional convention?"

the-ones-who-wait

“That’s the… thing Iomedae is doing where she wants us to send someone to the capital, yes? To ask about how she should rule as Queen? We heard, and picked someone for it. Did something happen to her?”

levons-nous

He's not going to comment on this point of theological confusion: Enric is hardly the first person he's met who thinks Iomedae is the new patron goddess of Cheliax and on the whole he expects the misconception to be rather salutary. "Yes, you elected a candidate to represent your district, and I have no reason to believe she has not arrived in Westcrown safely. In addition to this, we have drawn some representatives by lot, so that the people generally may have their interests represented. That's you. Congratulations."

the-ones-who-wait

“Thank good, she’s okay. Worried I was being picked as a replacement. Well, It’s an honor to be chosen even if it’s just by lot and I’ll do my best.”

Enric is pretty sure he figured out what kind of outsider this is, unless it’s all a trick. Appearing, delivering a message from Iomedae… he’s either an angel or a wizard or a god. Or a god who’s also a wizard.

“So, are you Aroden? Or an angel? Should I be kneeling?”

levons-nous

"I am a mortal man. Please don't. You have one hour to pack and settle your affairs."

the-ones-who-wait