Edrei had been a young and vibrant woman, irreverent and loud and utterly in love with fire and chaos and booze (not necessarily in that order). Theirs had always been an odd-couple friendship, until she had become Queen and he had left her hanging in the lurch by passing his crown to Ronin. She had never forgiven him for that... and now, because of a landshark, she never would.
Even so... "Anything mortal can be killed," Jigano said mildly. "Should they be, though? What of those that drown in the Oasis? Should we drain it to protect them? What of those that are struck by lightning each year? Should we find a way to stop clouds from gathering and rain from falling?" He shrugged, looking to the south and pausing to make a notation in his journal on the landmarks before he continued to pick his way between buildings, sharp eyes searching for something in particular. "They only rise once a year to feed, and usually they take deer or wolf or luxere. Ideally, I wish we could find a way - a noise, a vibration, something like that - to warn them away from humans, but if you want to stop all people from dying of anything in this world, you'll have to take that up with Mort and Vi." Hell, people died from slipping in the tub and cracking their heads on the porcelain. Would Oliver crusade against baths next?
Music was a better way to spend their time than back and forth in an unanswerable philosophical debate over the morality eminent domain and extinction agendas. Oliver's voice may not have been highly trained, but it was hardly the worst the bard had heard. The song itself had a good meter and a simple, easy lyrics. It was easy to see how it would make a good lullaby, and Jigano nodded thoughtfully, a faint smile of enjoyment on his face. "Did you take care of children often?" He asked, curious. "And what is an 'Irish way?'" Kilarney, he could assume, was the name of some place on a distant world, but he'd never heard of an Irish before.
Jigano climbed up onto a tumbled section of wall and paused to look around, sweeping the ruins with sharp eyes. Something caught his attention a little ways away, and he made another notation before hopping down and heading off in that direction, sure-footed even on the shifting rubble. "I think I see something promising. Follow me," he called back, reaching up to tug his hat down a little more firmly against the blazing sun above.
Even so... "Anything mortal can be killed," Jigano said mildly. "Should they be, though? What of those that drown in the Oasis? Should we drain it to protect them? What of those that are struck by lightning each year? Should we find a way to stop clouds from gathering and rain from falling?" He shrugged, looking to the south and pausing to make a notation in his journal on the landmarks before he continued to pick his way between buildings, sharp eyes searching for something in particular. "They only rise once a year to feed, and usually they take deer or wolf or luxere. Ideally, I wish we could find a way - a noise, a vibration, something like that - to warn them away from humans, but if you want to stop all people from dying of anything in this world, you'll have to take that up with Mort and Vi." Hell, people died from slipping in the tub and cracking their heads on the porcelain. Would Oliver crusade against baths next?
Music was a better way to spend their time than back and forth in an unanswerable philosophical debate over the morality eminent domain and extinction agendas. Oliver's voice may not have been highly trained, but it was hardly the worst the bard had heard. The song itself had a good meter and a simple, easy lyrics. It was easy to see how it would make a good lullaby, and Jigano nodded thoughtfully, a faint smile of enjoyment on his face. "Did you take care of children often?" He asked, curious. "And what is an 'Irish way?'" Kilarney, he could assume, was the name of some place on a distant world, but he'd never heard of an Irish before.
Jigano climbed up onto a tumbled section of wall and paused to look around, sweeping the ruins with sharp eyes. Something caught his attention a little ways away, and he made another notation before hopping down and heading off in that direction, sure-footed even on the shifting rubble. "I think I see something promising. Follow me," he called back, reaching up to tug his hat down a little more firmly against the blazing sun above.
