"Isn't that the way of it?" Jigano agreed with a faint grimace at being unable to use their old tricks. He was mostly resigned to it by now (he told himself, firmly), but a wistful sigh still escaped until mention of the guild meeting brought his smile back. "Oh, we will indeed! In fact, I'm already getting an idea or two..." he hummed happily, and his grin took on a hint of wicked mischief as he stole a glance at his friend.
He snorted softly, amused, whenCaiside admitted he hadn't heeded one of the first warnings Jigano had given him. Then again, he'd just arrived in a new world and had a lot on his mind, so the bard could hardly blame him. And besides, in hindsight it was rather funny... if one could set aside his bruised pride! "I suppose it could have been worse," he murmured, eyes twinkling with humor again as he glanced back at his friend. The scars on his skin had come after he'd come to Caido, his body also unblemished when he arrived... until he had been savaged by a wolf in his foxform while hunting with Rory and Vai. "The next sentient book I led a group into turned one of my companions who is normally a tall, lean, human man into a busty, axe-wielding dwarven lady!" And himself into a heftily-endowed elven sorceress, though he skimmed over that particular detail. The books really did seem to have it out for his dignity, now that Caiside mentioned it...
Jigano settled himself down on his stomach to let the sun play over his back, sighing at the warm comfort of the day and the cool breeze off the water around them. "It takes a long, long time for a dragon to grow old on Golarion," he chuckled. "And though they're formidable even when they're young, they tend to grow into their intelligence along with their size. The young ones have a tendency of picking fights they can't always win, before they gain the ability to reason and speak." He nodded in understanding of why a dragon might be worshiped as a god, but his smile was crooked. "I can see how they could appear as such to shorter-lived races, though. Still, a black dragon... on my world, such would usually be unequivocally champions of evil gods. Silver dragons are tall and slender, with feathered tails. They're champions of good, renowned for the courage and known for being the most honorable of the breed." He chuckled at his own hubris, waving a lazy hand as if to indicate the idea was less possible than a dream. "Their scales are said to be able to turn aside spells, and their breath is ice rather than fire. Do the colors of dragons mean anything on your world, too?"
He snorted softly, amused, when
Jigano settled himself down on his stomach to let the sun play over his back, sighing at the warm comfort of the day and the cool breeze off the water around them. "It takes a long, long time for a dragon to grow old on Golarion," he chuckled. "And though they're formidable even when they're young, they tend to grow into their intelligence along with their size. The young ones have a tendency of picking fights they can't always win, before they gain the ability to reason and speak." He nodded in understanding of why a dragon might be worshiped as a god, but his smile was crooked. "I can see how they could appear as such to shorter-lived races, though. Still, a black dragon... on my world, such would usually be unequivocally champions of evil gods. Silver dragons are tall and slender, with feathered tails. They're champions of good, renowned for the courage and known for being the most honorable of the breed." He chuckled at his own hubris, waving a lazy hand as if to indicate the idea was less possible than a dream. "Their scales are said to be able to turn aside spells, and their breath is ice rather than fire. Do the colors of dragons mean anything on your world, too?"
