Jigano's brow furrowed as he tried to follow along with who was the mother - Mother? - of who, and where they fell in the lineage he was describing. "The forest spirit's name was 'the Mother'?" he asked at last, wanting to make sure he had the details right. "And she cursed her son as well as his father? Why did she even carry Reithdur to term if she hated the child so much?" It was a curious question, asked without approbation or judgment from a man who knew of several ways to end such unwanted pregnancies, though he'd never needed to administer them. Hopefully Caiside could explain more about this 'Mother' though, for Jigano was having trouble understanding how a human man could have overpowered a spirit powerful enough to lay curses on entire family lines.
"So after he killed his father, he decided he wanted to find out about magic?" The bard ventured his guess cautiously, uncertain if he was on the right track.
His turn again, then, and Jigano's smile faded to solemnity as he spun the broadest and simplest explanation of the distant past that had led to his current place. "Found? Or perhaps we were drawn to it," he admitted, lips quirking wryly. "The gods of my world were not direct, like the ones here. They preferred a far more subtle approach. But whether chance or... something else, we were all there on that night." He took a breath, shaking off the comparison with a shrug. "The memories of those past travelers didn't make themselves known all at once," he tried to explain. "We saw flashes at first, confusing visions that made no sense at the time. But the gloves couldn't removed, somehow bonded to our skin, and we found ourselves an unlikely little band drawn together by that experience."
He struck the metal with the force that he could muster, exhaling slowly as he tried to steady shaking hands. "Our town, Torch, had arisen around a white fire that that rose from the ground atop a great hill and never ceased to burn. Sometimes it waxed and waned, usually with a little warning, but it was the only fire hot enough to work the skymetals that had fallen during the Rain of Stars, metals harder and more durable than iron or steel, or with strange properties. Portable forges were used to harness the fire, the town smiths taking turns to work on projects and commissions of adamantine and noqual. Because of this our town was prosperous enough to negotiate its autonomy from the ruling Kellish barbarians and the Technic League, paying high taxes from the sale of weapons and armor in exchange for no overseer or meddling from the distant capital." He paused to glance aside at his friend, pale brow arching into the silence. "Shortly after I was drawn to that haunted wreckage and gained memories not my own, the torch that gave our town its name and freedom, for the first time in recorded memory... went out."
"So after he killed his father, he decided he wanted to find out about magic?" The bard ventured his guess cautiously, uncertain if he was on the right track.
His turn again, then, and Jigano's smile faded to solemnity as he spun the broadest and simplest explanation of the distant past that had led to his current place. "Found? Or perhaps we were drawn to it," he admitted, lips quirking wryly. "The gods of my world were not direct, like the ones here. They preferred a far more subtle approach. But whether chance or... something else, we were all there on that night." He took a breath, shaking off the comparison with a shrug. "The memories of those past travelers didn't make themselves known all at once," he tried to explain. "We saw flashes at first, confusing visions that made no sense at the time. But the gloves couldn't removed, somehow bonded to our skin, and we found ourselves an unlikely little band drawn together by that experience."
He struck the metal with the force that he could muster, exhaling slowly as he tried to steady shaking hands. "Our town, Torch, had arisen around a white fire that that rose from the ground atop a great hill and never ceased to burn. Sometimes it waxed and waned, usually with a little warning, but it was the only fire hot enough to work the skymetals that had fallen during the Rain of Stars, metals harder and more durable than iron or steel, or with strange properties. Portable forges were used to harness the fire, the town smiths taking turns to work on projects and commissions of adamantine and noqual. Because of this our town was prosperous enough to negotiate its autonomy from the ruling Kellish barbarians and the Technic League, paying high taxes from the sale of weapons and armor in exchange for no overseer or meddling from the distant capital." He paused to glance aside at his friend, pale brow arching into the silence. "Shortly after I was drawn to that haunted wreckage and gained memories not my own, the torch that gave our town its name and freedom, for the first time in recorded memory... went out."
