A veritable cornucopia of questions from the General today, it would seem, and Jigano's grin quirked a little higher as he nodded. "A few spells of divine blessing; to create water, to detect the presence of magic, to mend small items, and the like. Most of my magic was of arcane origin and tied to my voice, though. I had a few spells to turn sound itself into a weapon, or to strike enemies with fear. Most of it, though, was more defensive or tactical in nature." He shrugged, suspecting the General could appreciate that. "Short-range teleportation for moving my allies around a battlefield, or protecting against enemy attempts to affect our own minds with fear or confusion, or to defend against telepathic intrusion. Making us invisible for short periods of time or turning myself to creature of sound rather than flesh for a few minutes... That sort of thing." He had been a mage of great power on his world, for a time. He had turned his back on that power once it was no longer needed. Once prices had been paid in full, deaths to balance lives, betrayal for betrayal. He had walked away from it all a broken shell of what he had been...
And five years later he had walked into Caido.
"What of you? Did you have any conjurings beyond life drain in Helovia?" A master of one magic, through and through, or a dabbler in many? Jigano didn't know how magic had worked in Helovia, and he found himself curious if Deimos was in a talking mood.
On Caido, it seemed, all things lately led back to Safrin, and Jigano held back the snort, though the wry quirk of his lips held a silent of course to their tilt. Strength, though... Deimos was one of the strongest men that the bard had met. Also one of the unluckiest, though he could hardly throw stones in that particular glass house, so instead he listened quietly as the tale emerged in starveling skin over bare bones, streamlined sharp enough to cut the wind. He winced at the moment of being dropped, but the ending was already spoiled by the man sitting beside him, hale and healthy and very much alive, and he nodded slowly in consideration.
"A good thing your first form was one with wings," he murmured, the edge of that crooked grin back as he began gathering up the repaired targets to carry back for re-planting in the training yard.
And five years later he had walked into Caido.
"What of you? Did you have any conjurings beyond life drain in Helovia?" A master of one magic, through and through, or a dabbler in many? Jigano didn't know how magic had worked in Helovia, and he found himself curious if Deimos was in a talking mood.
On Caido, it seemed, all things lately led back to Safrin, and Jigano held back the snort, though the wry quirk of his lips held a silent of course to their tilt. Strength, though... Deimos was one of the strongest men that the bard had met. Also one of the unluckiest, though he could hardly throw stones in that particular glass house, so instead he listened quietly as the tale emerged in starveling skin over bare bones, streamlined sharp enough to cut the wind. He winced at the moment of being dropped, but the ending was already spoiled by the man sitting beside him, hale and healthy and very much alive, and he nodded slowly in consideration.
"A good thing your first form was one with wings," he murmured, the edge of that crooked grin back as he began gathering up the repaired targets to carry back for re-planting in the training yard.
