Frosted Iron
for Caiside
Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd
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#15
They worked in companionable silence until Caiside was ready to begin speaking, the strike of hammers on iron a soothing rhythm, except when blight-stricken hands sent the blow skittering unevenly across the surface of the incipient blades and earned a scowl from the bard as he glared at his traitorous fingers. Caiside's story was a welcome distraction from his temper, especially when he added in the dramatic motions that Jigano so admired in his friend's storytelling. "Did he tell you about the birthright that night, or did he leave it mysterious?" Jigano asked, glad to be caught up in someone else's story for a change and eager to hear more of what was shaping up to be a tale rich in adventure and drama.

In spite of a few mis-strikes, Caiside was more pleased with his work than he himself was. Jigano tilted his head in wry appreciation for his friend's patience with him, but caught a flicker of the frustration in the way that elegant jaw feathered. "He was... not a demonstrative man," he explained quietly. "He wasn't a hard man but he was... ah, stoic might be a good word. It was hard to know when he approved or was proud of my work, even when I tried to do what he asked." He tried to shrug it off, though the smile he managed was mostly sad. "He was a good father, in his way, but I couldn't imagine being his apprentice. You might have gotten along with him better, having more in common with him... but you might have been just as frustrated as I was, at how little praise he gave." For Caiside seemed the type to bask in praise, as nurtured by it as a rose was by the sun.

What he wanted? Jigano found his smile becoming a little more sincere, if a little more rueful as he continued to fold and flatten the metal before him. "I wanted to be an Oracle, like my mother, but one dedicated to knowledge rather than life. I was more like her than my father, though not enough to follow in her footsteps either. Scholasticism didn't pay well in my town, unfortunately. Oh, I found a few starfallen ruins and vessels to scavenge, but most of those close enough to the city for a boy to reach in a day had already been picked clean by past generations of would-be adventurers, so I began to learn the bardic trade as a way to make ends meet." He paused his hammering to manage a slight shrug, smile crooked as he looked to Caiside. "Turned out it dovetailed nicely with my birthright as a Lore Oracle, and I had an uncanny knack for music and oratory and the magics of song and rhyme. It wasn't what I necessarily wanted... but I don't regret taking that road." Not when there were so many other things to regret that had come later.
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#16

A smile crept to Caiside’s lips, a proper one. There was little that broke through the haze of his illness lately, but being able to hook Jigano into his tale, his history, proved to be something that did. ”He told... what I assumed was all he knew. He have been abandoned to the woods as a baby, and taken in by a band of elves.” He remembered Jigano had said his world had had other races as well, and didn’t pause to explain. ”All he had was his name, Reithdur, and a charm that had been holding together the furs he was swaddled in. So I agreed to accompany him. To help him.” As of that was the most natural, the most obvious action.

Caisides hands paused in their work, growing still as a sidelong glance towards Jigano turned into a searching look. ”I understand. The man I learned from...” He didn’t say step father, refused to. ”...he was similar. At least as far as praise was concerned.” It wasn’t a good environment to learn in. He hoped, quietly, that he was doing providing a somewhat better second chance for the bard to learn in. He might not be particularly vocal with instructions, but his hands moved slowly enough to be followed easily, and he offered gentle corrections where they were needed.

”It sounds like you got your feet under yourself rather nicely, despite the difficulties.” Caiside pointed out, impressed. He focused back on the metal, teasing the beginning of an edge from it and watching the bright glow fade with each strike of his hammer. ”It’s good you found something you are happy with. Though...” Caiside shook his head, not wanting to ruin the smile on the bards face by talking about how they’d lost what had been.

Caiside
I have never been allowed to be Holy,
I have never been forgiven for Wanting;



Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd
Portal Guardian
Age: 36 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 30 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 38 - Luck: 42 - Int:
ISUMA - Mythical - Griffin (Venomous)
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#17
Jigano's lips quirked at hearing about 'elves,' a term he'd almost never heard from anyone else's lips but theirs. It was a warm reminder of what they shared, even if so much else in their homeworlds had been different. "What sort of charm was it?" he coaxed, paying perhaps a bit more attention to the story than he should have, and a bit less attention to his not-quite-sword than it needed. "And what did this quest for his birthright entail?"

Luckily Caiside kept his movements slow and steady - give or take the shaking of both their hands - and Jigano was able to correct most of his mild mistakes by a simple application of re-heating and pounding the steel flat again. He met Caiside's eyes at the talk of fathers, and gave a slow, understanding nod, warmed in spite of the blight at having someone who really did understand, though at least he had known that his father loved him, even if the stoic smith hadn't really understood his more scholarly son.

"I didn't have much choice," Jigano admitted wryly at the compliment. "It was a bit, ah, 'thrown in the deep end and sink or swim.' I found myself unwillingly bonded to an artifact, and further bound by it to a group I had little in common with... and then the torch of our town's namesake went out, and my mentor went missing trying to discover what had happened with it so I went after him..." He shook his head ruefully, nostalgia and pain in equal measure in his voice as he raised the sword-blank to inspect it and then offered it to Caiside for approval. "How is this looking?"
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#18

”We couldn’t figure it out, that was part of the adventure!” Caiside laughed, getting into his own storytelling a little bit now. It wasn’t a bad story to start, would probably make a great story. It just wasn’t the best life. ”He figured his birthright had to do with it. Apparently the leader of his...” He waved his hand, twirling his tools around easily, ”...his band? She knew what it meant, but never told him. So we did some research, and found it was made in the specific style of a remote northern kingdom. The Wolf Kings tribe.”

The understanding between them was unspoken, and it was better for it. Caiside was not someone who likes to talk about things he considered bad, even to friends, especially to friends. Having someone like Jigano as a silent supporting presence was a relief. It made these difficult topics that much easier.

A short huff of laughter came to his lips at the bards wry admission, not cruel, just amused. ”It’s rare to be thrown into a situation and roll with it. It’s a skill.” He wanted to be kind, but pry for more at the same time. It was only fair they were both sharing their stories. ”That sounds like quite the beginning of a story.”

Jigano asked for critique on his sword, and Caiside looked it over with a careful eye. ”Hold it at more of an angle for the edge.” He adjusted his grip, exaggerating the way he held the soon to be sword to demonstrate. ”It’s easier to adjust it this way, instead of trying to strike it at an angle.”

Caiside
I have never been allowed to be Holy,
I have never been forgiven for Wanting;



Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd
Portal Guardian
Age: 36 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 30 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 38 - Luck: 42 - Int:
ISUMA - Mythical - Griffin (Venomous)
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#19
"A long-lost heir to a tribal throne?" Jigano asked, half-curious and half-teasing as he coaxed the story along. "How long did the journey take to get there?" For there was no doubt in his mind that it had been a harrowing trek across many lands to reach it, filled with adventure and perhaps the collection of more companions along the way. Of course, it could have just been a boring walk across the face of the world... but where was the fun in that? Unless it let Caiside jump ahead to the next key twist in the tale!

The bard wasn't quite as swayed by compliments and blandishments as his friend was (he hoped) but they were still nice to hear, and he smiled gratefully at the support he received in turn from the skilled smith. "It is... one that I never thought I'd tell, in truth, but on Caido there doesn't seem to be any reason not to," he admitted. "Though it's a tale that is hard to believe, even from one who lived it." He shook his head ruefully. "Ships that sailed not seas, but the spaces between stars, that crashed on the shore of my world and brought their ancient ghosts and grudges - and would-be gods - with them."

He grimaced a little at his poor technique, but that was why they were practicing, and he was learning. Drawing a steadying breath to quiet the curl of blight in his blood he nodded at the suggestion and watched Caiside more closely, adjusting his pun accordingly as they went back to work.
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#20

”I know, it sounds... cliche and unbelievable, all at once.” Caiside shook his head, letting tension build before he answered Jiganos question. ”It took months. We were far east, and clear across the heartwoods. We knew it would be perilous, at least if we wanted to move with any speed, but... really, it was the strangest thing. The woods were silent as we moved through them. It was as if any living thing hiding in them was giving us a wide berth.” It was yet another thing that should have been a red flag, but at the time had just seemed convenient. ”Then, as we crossed into the northern territories, it was as if people had been waiting for us. He was recognized almost immediately, and we were led, by an ever increasing crowd, to the halls of the Wolf King.” Caiside paused again, letting the drama of the moment sink in. ”Reithdur was nearly the spitting image of the king, the lineage undeniable to everyone assembled.”

A bright laugh left Caiside at the mention of hard to believe. It seemed there was little in either of their pasta that would be easy to believe, and yet he found himself getting sucked in by the promise just the same. Everything the bard described was fantastical, begging to be explained, to be questioned. ”So... were the people you traveled with from this crash landed vessel?” He was trying to make connections, and could only hope they were close to right. Caiside loved being right.

Golden eyes watched closely as Jigano adjusted his technique, his own hands pausing until the other could catch up. Not that what they were doing at the moment was particularly hard. Heat, hammer, quench. Over and over. At least it was simple enough that they could focus on the stories but being shared.

Caiside
I have never been allowed to be Holy,
I have never been forgiven for Wanting;



Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd
Portal Guardian
Age: 36 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 30 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 38 - Luck: 42 - Int:
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#21
Jigano was an eager audience, drinking in the tale with curious eyes that shone in spite of the blight-taint, and clearly holding back his many questions to let Caiside tell the story at his own pace. A silver brow rose at the mention of the animals avoiding them in the woods, sensing trouble by the way Caiside emphasized it, but holding back any judgment. Why would the other man have any reason to think the ease of the their travel was a bad omen? Ah, but then the way people had been waiting for Reithdur was a little too convenient, and the bard's expression turned solemn with concern. "But why had the King abandoned him and sent him so far from home? Or had he been kidnapped as a baby? But... to what purpose?" he coaxed, knowing that Caiside would get to the answers in time, but still eager for answers to the riddles that had been presented in the tale.

Then it was his turn, and he grinned wryly as Caiside's laughter called out the irony of his words, as they stood on the soil of another world entirely, having survived attacks by vampire gourds and things far stranger. "No... and yes," he replied with an enigmatic smile, leaving it mysterious for a few beats before he relented with a chuckle. "The ship I spoke of had been chased across the sea of stars by a distant enemy of worlds, a darkness so vast... well, no one world could fight it. The ship was called the Divinity, and it was the most advanced creation of a species whose technology was much like magic to my world. The Enemy - the Dominion of the Black - wanted that ship badly, for it could create portals between two points in space, portals that were miles wide, big enough for this worldship to pass through, and to bring a packtrain of smaller ships with it. The Dominion attacked it, but the Divinity fled, plunging into an unstable portal that flung it across unknown distances to the skies above my world. With its systems failing from the attack, it crashed upon the shores of Golarion, mostly upon my country of Numeria, shattering in the skies as it did so and falling to earth in what was called "the Rain of Stars."" Jigano paused to gauge Caiside's reaction before finishing softly. "That was one thousand years ago, and the tribes of my nation did what they could to bury the wreckage, seeing it as proof of the gods' anger. But when I was a young man, I saw a light shining in the distance one night and went to investigate. A few others had been drawn to it as well, and we found a piece of that wreckage that had awoken after all those years. In it we found gloves... I'm not sure how else to describe them, but a fingerless hand-covering containing some of the technology of that long-distant ship's crew.

Their technology... and the memories of the ones who had worn them before us. A link to ancient souls that allowed us to see through their eyes, a window into the time just before the Dominion attack."
His smile had faded at the recollection, and he took a steadying breath as he turned his attention back to the steel they were hammering for a moment to regain his poise.
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#22

”The king had sent him away for the same reason we had such an easy time travelling through the forest.” This was something Caiside himself had not realized until later, much later, but it was too important to leave as a twist closer to the end. ”He was a bastard, born of a...” Caiside struggled with his words here, his face twisting to make the one that eventually fell from his lips sound dirty, ”...union between the king and a forest spirit. He was the first born son of the Mother. Reithdur’s mother cursed him, and his family, and the king had been told that letting the child die would alleviate the effects of the curse.” But he hadn’t died, not until much later. Too much later. ”They, Reithdur and his father, had a rather... public disagreement, the result of which was a duel, of sorts. Reithdur won, and took the crown and the kingdom. And then decided he wanted to discover his other birthright..” He was trying to keep from being too detailed, Jigano would ask questions if he needed to, that Caiside was certain of, but the early days were intentionally hazy for him. He’d done his best to forget as much of it as possible.

Jigano did a much better job of building tension in his tale, Caiside literally leaning in closer when the bard answered him. A smile brushed over his lips along with his friends chuckle, before they fell open in surprise. Everything that was described sounded unbelievable and amazing, ”You just found an ancient artifact?” There was a curl of jealousy in Caisides voice. ”What did you do?” he was more engrossed in the story than he was the lesson at this point, trying to see what Jigano describes in his minds eye. It was all so fantastical, compared to his own world, and compared to here.

Hammering drew his attention back to the task his hands were doing. By this point the  steel was looking more and more like a blade, and Caiside found himself staring down at it, disappointed. He supposed they could have made something else, though he’d chosen a blade because of its ease. There were other easy projects though. They had gotten too far into the project to restart now.

Caiside
I have never been allowed to be Holy,
I have never been forgiven for Wanting;



Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd
Portal Guardian
Age: 36 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 30 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 38 - Luck: 42 - Int:
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#23
Jigano's brow furrowed as he tried to follow along with who was the mother - Mother? - of who, and where they fell in the lineage he was describing. "The forest spirit's name was 'the Mother'?" he asked at last, wanting to make sure he had the details right. "And she cursed her son as well as his father? Why did she even carry Reithdur to term if she hated the child so much?" It was a curious question, asked without approbation or judgment from a man who knew of several ways to end such unwanted pregnancies, though he'd never needed to administer them. Hopefully Caiside could explain more about this 'Mother' though, for Jigano was having trouble understanding how a human man could have overpowered a spirit powerful enough to lay curses on entire family lines.

"So after he killed his father, he decided he wanted to find out about magic?" The bard ventured his guess cautiously, uncertain if he was on the right track.

His turn again, then, and Jigano's smile faded to solemnity as he spun the broadest and simplest explanation of the distant past that had led to his current place. "Found? Or perhaps we were drawn to it," he admitted, lips quirking wryly. "The gods of my world were not direct, like the ones here. They preferred a far more subtle approach. But whether chance or... something else, we were all there on that night." He took a breath, shaking off the comparison with a shrug. "The memories of those past travelers didn't make themselves known all at once," he tried to explain. "We saw flashes at first, confusing visions that made no sense at the time. But the gloves couldn't removed, somehow bonded to our skin, and we found ourselves an unlikely little band drawn together by that experience."

He struck the metal with the force that he could muster, exhaling slowly as he tried to steady shaking hands. "Our town, Torch, had arisen around a white fire that that rose from the ground atop a great hill and never ceased to burn. Sometimes it waxed and waned, usually with a little warning, but it was the only fire hot enough to work the skymetals that had fallen during the Rain of Stars, metals harder and more durable than iron or steel, or with strange properties. Portable forges were used to harness the fire, the town smiths taking turns to work on projects and commissions of adamantine and noqual. Because of this our town was prosperous enough to negotiate its autonomy from the ruling Kellish barbarians and the Technic League, paying high taxes from the sale of weapons and armor in exchange for no overseer or meddling from the distant capital." He paused to glance aside at his friend, pale brow arching into the silence. "Shortly after I was drawn to that haunted wreckage and gained memories not my own, the torch that gave our town its name and freedom, for the first time in recorded memory... went out."
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#24

Caiside pauses, blinking at Jigano’s question, then grinned and shook his head. ”Please excuse me. There are many similarities between our homes, but I must remember we did not come from the same place. The Mother is the forest, the world. She began everything. Her daughters are the spirits of the forest, and they are many. While every creature comes from her, only the spirits are truly of her blood. The spirits... and Reithdur.” He was trying to explain it as sensibly as he could, a fear made difficult by the fact that much of what he was explaining he had thought of truths, facts that had rarely, if ever, needed words spoken to them. ”It is said that the first things the Mother created were the trees, and her daughters. They are old, but not... strong. Not when they’re alone. And because they are so old, and so pure, they are unable to snuff life from a living being. Regardless of the danger or pin it being upon them.” There was an undeniable sadness in Caisides voice, a grief still felt strongly in his throat.

After a breath, to clear the lump in his throat, Caiside continued. ”After he killed his father, he wanted to find out more about his magic.” He confirmed with a brief nod, his eyes focused down on the movements of his hands. Libraries were scoured, first those in the North, then, as they were found lacking, I was sent to neighbours and allies, asking for texts about magic, about the Mother, and about prophecy. And when my words and deals proved to not be enough, soldiers were sent, the knowledge taken by force.” It was clear Caiside was trying to keep himself at least a little distant from what had happened. He would never call what he felt shame, but only because he would never apply such a word to himself.

It was a little strange, watching Jigano speak his tale again. Like looking in a mirror, one that reflected stories that would rather fester in dark corners than come to light. Fuzzy details, and a distance, whether deliberate or not. Still, it was fun to get into the mood Jigano was trying at, Caiside lifting his eyebrows and leaning in as the other man spoke of subtle gods. ”Flashes of memory? It sounds... disorienting.” Caiside shook his head like he was shaking away dust and glanced down at Jigano’s hands, like he half expected the gloves to still be bonded. Like he’d even be able to tell through the thick forge gloves.

He listened intently as Jigano described his home, golden eyes moving from the blade he was working on, to the silver haired man beside him, to his own forge, its light a dull red. He could imagine what Jigano was saying, in his own way. It was a pity he would never see the real thing, compare what it looked like in his head to the truth. Though the organizations that were mentioned begged to be questioned, Caiside was immediately distracted by the pregnant pause Jigano built. The red head leaned in again, then gasped, out loud, at the hook. ”Just like that?”

All the talking had Caisides hands falling still again, and he tutted, looking down at his work, then over towards Jigano’s. They were shaped enough to move on to the next step, the tempering and sharpening, both fiddly enough that he’d need to explain as well as demonstrate. With a tight lipped smile, Caiside spoke. ”I think we’ll have to put a pin in our stories for the moment. Why don’t we continue them next time?” It seemed fair enough to him, and gave them both something to look forward to. When Jigano agreed, Caiside pressed on, talking about colours to watch for and how to get a fine edge.

It didn’t take long from that point to finish, both of them standing with basic, but more than serviceable blades. ”It’s simpler than I do normally, but I think simple works for these.” Jigano had done a good job, his experience clearly serving him well.

Caiside
I have never been allowed to be Holy,
I have never been forgiven for Wanting;



Jigano Silversmith
the Sage
Provost of the Loreseekers Soul Shepherd
Portal Guardian
Age: 36 | Height: 6'2" | Race: Attuned x Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 12 - Strg: 30 - Dext: 45 - Endr: 38 - Luck: 42 - Int:
ISUMA - Mythical - Griffin (Venomous)
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#25
Ahhh, that made more sense, and Jigano nodded in understanding, though Reithdur's parentage still confused him. He was the world-goddess's grandson, then, not truly her son? If his mother had been one of the forest spirits who were the Mother's daughters? But in truth it hardly mattered, not as the tale continued. At first Caiside had helped his friend, because why wouldn't he? But at the introduction of soldiers and unjust war took an even darker turn than patricide, Jigano's expression turned carefully neutral and he focused on his work so Caiside wouldn't see the worry in his eyes. He thought he knew the direction the tale was taking, for it was all too familiar to his own life, and sins he wasn't sure he wanted to share even now.

That was quite a ways down the trail his own story was laying, however, and the early parts were innocent enough, free of the world's corruption that would taint the later chapters. Jigano spun images of that distant first night. He nodded wryly at his friend's comment, for it had been difficult to take in and process back then, though his innate curiosity had pushed him to try and understand the visions. "It burned as tall as adult man most of the time - never less than that - for over a hundred years without cease until that day. And then it was as though it had never burned at all, if not for the scorched stone around it." He agreed soberly. But what came next would have to wait as they were forced to cease their chatter and focus on their hands and steel. He nodded wryly, hating to leave his friend on a cliffhanger but recognizing the needs of the metal they were working.

He was surprised at how well his came out, in spite of his rusty skills and shaking hands. He smiled at Caiside, offering is friend a grateful bow. "It will more than do in a pinch. Thank you for the lesson - and the stories! I'm looking forward to continuing both again soon," he said warmly before he packed up and took his leave.


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