The missive had a roundabout way of finding the bard, through a certain blond intermediary of their mutual acquaintance. Deimos was one of the few who knew how close the leatherworker and the bard were, however, and who could get a message to the fugitive in these dark times.
The guild being threatened to be disbanded had initially raised Jigano's temper high, but after a snarling hunt that ended in a rabbit dinner for a fox and a gryphlet he had calmed down and thought it through. Hearing later that Amalia had taken over the Provost-ship had left him with mixed feelings, pride and worry intermingling, but he trusted her to know what she was doing, and he respected her courage in stepping up. The Guild was as much hers as his, after all, and Sam's as well. If either of them wished to challenge Zariah for it he would support them. Sam, however, had disappeared, and in spite of everything already weighing Amalia down, she had cared enough to hold fast to what was theirs. No, he could not fault her for that.
He assumed Deimos had some information on seditious secrets or rebellious revels; more weapons to forge or strategies to concoct. Never the most ebullient of warriors, still his words held weight and importance to the bard these days, both for the man's own wisdom and for Amalia's love of him.
Jigano Smith made his way through town, not sneaking but not stopping to chat with anyone either, a slouching grey figure who moved with the flow of people, neither hurrying nor lingering as he walked with casual purpose towards the home of a friend and fellow member of their defiant band. He ducked into the backyard with a grunt of greeting, still wearing his disguise a few minutes more.
Better safe then sorry, after all.
"You asked for me?"
The guild being threatened to be disbanded had initially raised Jigano's temper high, but after a snarling hunt that ended in a rabbit dinner for a fox and a gryphlet he had calmed down and thought it through. Hearing later that Amalia had taken over the Provost-ship had left him with mixed feelings, pride and worry intermingling, but he trusted her to know what she was doing, and he respected her courage in stepping up. The Guild was as much hers as his, after all, and Sam's as well. If either of them wished to challenge Zariah for it he would support them. Sam, however, had disappeared, and in spite of everything already weighing Amalia down, she had cared enough to hold fast to what was theirs. No, he could not fault her for that.
He assumed Deimos had some information on seditious secrets or rebellious revels; more weapons to forge or strategies to concoct. Never the most ebullient of warriors, still his words held weight and importance to the bard these days, both for the man's own wisdom and for Amalia's love of him.
Better safe then sorry, after all.
"You asked for me?"
