"The notes are good, but I'm particularly glad to see the sketches!" Jigano admitted with a grin. "We haven't had a decent artist to flesh out the notes before. I'm more of an artist with words then ink, I'm afraid, and Sam is..." He paused delicately, not wanting to speak ill of his friend, but also not willing to bend the truth too far. "His talents lie elsewhere," he decided on. Amalia was too busy to do much bookkeeping these days, and his smile warmed significantly at having Caiside to rely on for guildwork.
The pale brow did arch a little at the emphasis his friend put on Sam's name, and he eyed the smith thoughtfully for a moment. There was some sort of tension there, something they might need to work out at some point... but not today, with the blight sinking deep into Jigano's heart and possible Caiside's as well. He simply nodded acknowledgment before moving past it to confess his corruption. "I don't know how," he admitted with a sigh. "I was very, very sick for a week. I don't remember anything from it, just fever dreams... and when I started to recover I assumed the symptoms were just a part of that illness. It wasn't until Ludo told me that it was the blight that was making me shake, making my skin so cold and causing my mood to shift so wildly from anger to sadness... well. It must have gotten into me while I was sick with that Longheat fever, but I'm not the only one now." Hope... was a commodity in dreadfully short supply for the blighted, given their moodswings.
But it was all they had at the moment.
He was almost grateful at how Caiside didn't linger on it, though he suspected the other man didn't want to look at his own symptoms too closely. The question of faith had the bard looking a little less certain than usual as he cleared his throat and sipped at his cider with a thoughtful look on his face. "I have never had any interest in Frey's worship," he began slowly, sifting through the uncomfortably intimate details of his interactions with Caido's gods. "And my relationship with Safrin has been... rocky at best. But Ludo and I are unexpectedly well-matched." He smiled, a lopsided expression as he met Caiside's eyes with a slight shrug. "And Mort is a god that is known for his love and patience. Souls and memories, remembrances and forgiveness... I would like to do something to honor them both. A shrine was made for Safrin in the Fields recently. I was thinking of constructing one for Ludo and Mort here in the barrierlands, perhaps by the the Bone Bridge. A place for memories and praying for the souls of those who have died or been lost, beyond just the Festival of Lights." He tilted his head curiously at his friend, studying his expression to try and see what the other man thought. "There aren't many others I could or would ask to help with a shrine to the gods of death," he admitted. "But I was curious... well, as to what you might think about it?"
The pale brow did arch a little at the emphasis his friend put on Sam's name, and he eyed the smith thoughtfully for a moment. There was some sort of tension there, something they might need to work out at some point... but not today, with the blight sinking deep into Jigano's heart and possible Caiside's as well. He simply nodded acknowledgment before moving past it to confess his corruption. "I don't know how," he admitted with a sigh. "I was very, very sick for a week. I don't remember anything from it, just fever dreams... and when I started to recover I assumed the symptoms were just a part of that illness. It wasn't until Ludo told me that it was the blight that was making me shake, making my skin so cold and causing my mood to shift so wildly from anger to sadness... well. It must have gotten into me while I was sick with that Longheat fever, but I'm not the only one now." Hope... was a commodity in dreadfully short supply for the blighted, given their moodswings.
But it was all they had at the moment.
He was almost grateful at how Caiside didn't linger on it, though he suspected the other man didn't want to look at his own symptoms too closely. The question of faith had the bard looking a little less certain than usual as he cleared his throat and sipped at his cider with a thoughtful look on his face. "I have never had any interest in Frey's worship," he began slowly, sifting through the uncomfortably intimate details of his interactions with Caido's gods. "And my relationship with Safrin has been... rocky at best. But Ludo and I are unexpectedly well-matched." He smiled, a lopsided expression as he met Caiside's eyes with a slight shrug. "And Mort is a god that is known for his love and patience. Souls and memories, remembrances and forgiveness... I would like to do something to honor them both. A shrine was made for Safrin in the Fields recently. I was thinking of constructing one for Ludo and Mort here in the barrierlands, perhaps by the the Bone Bridge. A place for memories and praying for the souls of those who have died or been lost, beyond just the Festival of Lights." He tilted his head curiously at his friend, studying his expression to try and see what the other man thought. "There aren't many others I could or would ask to help with a shrine to the gods of death," he admitted. "But I was curious... well, as to what you might think about it?"
