The first time he’d come out to the Labyrinth he hadn’t even made it to the entrance, instead falling into an ice cave where half the Settlement seem to have been drawn. He’d been intending to do some mapping of the strange place for his own curiosity, but now he had a different goal. The old smith who had made such beautiful work was not as young as he used to be, and his hands were badly swollen with arthritis. Likely other joints, too. It would have been a shame for the world to lose his skill…but, also, it wasn’t easy for the bard to walk away from someone in need, no matter how many walls he tried to build around his heart, or how many justifications he used to try and convince himself that someone else would step up if he didn’t.
Remi probably would have laughed and said ‘I told you so.’
Which was why Jigano was out alone today, 3/4-filled notebook and marking stick in his hands as he looked up at the gates of the maze with a quiet hum of cautious excitement. He’d picked a sunny day for it, the bright light sparkling off the snow and ice that made the crumbling maze look softer and fairy-like in the winter mid-morning. He was counting on the sun to help him keep his directions straight, but had a ball of twine in hand for a more physical marker of where he’d been. He’d never explored a maze before, in his adventuring days, but he’d read enough accounts of others to have an idea of what he would need. Dried meat strips, and grain packed with honey into resilient little bars, along with his water skin and a small flask of whiskey from the tavern in case he strayed or stayed longer than he intended. The natives did not seem to like the place, and he was learning to take their rumors and legends seriously.
One such spoke of healing herbs in the center of the maze… if you could find your way in and then out again. Not everything here was out to kill them. Though rumors of the maze rearranging itself weren’t exactly reassuring.
A squirrel perched on the top of one hedge, watching him curiously with a flicking question of a tail. With a salute to the little beast – and a mental note to come back later in fox form for a bit of hunting – the bard grinned to himself and stepped into the gap, feeling the old thrill rise up in him again, like an absent friend come to visit.
Remi probably would have laughed and said ‘I told you so.’
Which was why Jigano was out alone today, 3/4-filled notebook and marking stick in his hands as he looked up at the gates of the maze with a quiet hum of cautious excitement. He’d picked a sunny day for it, the bright light sparkling off the snow and ice that made the crumbling maze look softer and fairy-like in the winter mid-morning. He was counting on the sun to help him keep his directions straight, but had a ball of twine in hand for a more physical marker of where he’d been. He’d never explored a maze before, in his adventuring days, but he’d read enough accounts of others to have an idea of what he would need. Dried meat strips, and grain packed with honey into resilient little bars, along with his water skin and a small flask of whiskey from the tavern in case he strayed or stayed longer than he intended. The natives did not seem to like the place, and he was learning to take their rumors and legends seriously.
One such spoke of healing herbs in the center of the maze… if you could find your way in and then out again. Not everything here was out to kill them. Though rumors of the maze rearranging itself weren’t exactly reassuring.
A squirrel perched on the top of one hedge, watching him curiously with a flicking question of a tail. With a salute to the little beast – and a mental note to come back later in fox form for a bit of hunting – the bard grinned to himself and stepped into the gap, feeling the old thrill rise up in him again, like an absent friend come to visit.
