He listened to the raven's tale, his own lips quirking with agreement at the mention of mixed saints and assholes on the road. Some things the Guild had plenty of - paper, glue, paint - but others required a touch of magic to bring about; fire and earth mixed with creation to pull together the metal hoops and bases; earth and creation for the wooden lathes that would become the supporting bones of a lantern. He kept the use inconspicuous at the moment, hidden as he turned his body to collect other things. Rance didn't seem the type to mind magic in the slightest, but the subtlety wouldn't hurt, and he could always show off later.
"What are they like, your family?" he asked, genuinely curious as he settled himself and looked out over the gathered bones and skin of the unborn lanterns. Holding an image in his mind he reached for one of the sets of hoops first, arranging them from small to medium to large, then back to medium and ending with small, atop one of the round metal circles with its cup of a candle holder in the center. As they spoke he worked swiftly to twist a strong, slender thread down the sides, tying the hoops together from top to bottom, then moving a few inches over and repeating the process from bottom to top, tied into holes in the base so that the whole thing would become a cylinder when allowed to hang.
The question brought a sad smile to the bard's face, but it was mostly a old pain by now. "Yes. This is not a safe world, and there are... well. There are too many deaths each year to make a lantern for each and every one. At the risk of sounding callous, I only make lanterns for those I cared for. This one is for Caiside, a very dear friend I lost last LongNight. On his world he had been a demigod, a great stag with fiery antlers, fathered by a sungod and raised by a smith. He and I had that in common and... well. We hit it off swiftly. He was also one of my guildmates, a Loreseeker with boundless curiosity." More curiosity than common sense, a recurring trait among their kind. It was likely that which had killed him, as it had almost killed Jigano the year before.
"What are they like, your family?" he asked, genuinely curious as he settled himself and looked out over the gathered bones and skin of the unborn lanterns. Holding an image in his mind he reached for one of the sets of hoops first, arranging them from small to medium to large, then back to medium and ending with small, atop one of the round metal circles with its cup of a candle holder in the center. As they spoke he worked swiftly to twist a strong, slender thread down the sides, tying the hoops together from top to bottom, then moving a few inches over and repeating the process from bottom to top, tied into holes in the base so that the whole thing would become a cylinder when allowed to hang.
The question brought a sad smile to the bard's face, but it was mostly a old pain by now. "Yes. This is not a safe world, and there are... well. There are too many deaths each year to make a lantern for each and every one. At the risk of sounding callous, I only make lanterns for those I cared for. This one is for Caiside, a very dear friend I lost last LongNight. On his world he had been a demigod, a great stag with fiery antlers, fathered by a sungod and raised by a smith. He and I had that in common and... well. We hit it off swiftly. He was also one of my guildmates, a Loreseeker with boundless curiosity." More curiosity than common sense, a recurring trait among their kind. It was likely that which had killed him, as it had almost killed Jigano the year before.
