It was an appropriate tale for their task at hand, and Jigano enjoyed listening to Rance spin it, in spite of Isuma's brief interruption. As he turned to the placing of a candle within Adam's lantern he hummed thoughtfully, envisioning the story that the raven painted with his words. "A kindly god of death, then, rather like our Mort it sounds like. At least, in the broadest sense," he admitted ruefully. "A guide and protector rather than a judge or punisher?"
It seemed that they both had rather grim experiences with the undead, and Jigano's smile faded as well as he listened to Rance describe the revenants of his world. "My world had those, too, though perhaps in greater variety," he admitted. "Ghouls, ghosts, zombies... different types of undead, but all related by the soul remaining when it should have gone on. I'm glad you made you escape," he added, a flicker of wry humor beneath the sincerity.
The final touch was adding some more glue judiciously to the tops of the wooden framing posts and setting another 'base' on top, this one with a holed knob in the center that a handle could be run through. The bard chuckled at the question, taking no offense but rather finding the question a good one. "In a way, you're right. The lanterns are for us, mostly, to help us both remember our loved ones and to accept their passing, a way to help us move on without losing our connection to them. But at the Festival where we hang them, Ludo will chose one that appeals to it. There's no rhyme or reason, from what I've been told. Whatever catches its fancy that night, it will reach into Mort's halls or even beyond to grant the lantern's owner a short time with the souls of their loved ones. A chance to say goodbye, or just to be together one last time... There are those who choose not to attend because it would be too painful yet. Or because their loved one has gone missing and they're afraid to know if their soul has already passed on," he added, voice growing softer and a little sad as he thought of his own lover.
It seemed that they both had rather grim experiences with the undead, and Jigano's smile faded as well as he listened to Rance describe the revenants of his world. "My world had those, too, though perhaps in greater variety," he admitted. "Ghouls, ghosts, zombies... different types of undead, but all related by the soul remaining when it should have gone on. I'm glad you made you escape," he added, a flicker of wry humor beneath the sincerity.
The final touch was adding some more glue judiciously to the tops of the wooden framing posts and setting another 'base' on top, this one with a holed knob in the center that a handle could be run through. The bard chuckled at the question, taking no offense but rather finding the question a good one. "In a way, you're right. The lanterns are for us, mostly, to help us both remember our loved ones and to accept their passing, a way to help us move on without losing our connection to them. But at the Festival where we hang them, Ludo will chose one that appeals to it. There's no rhyme or reason, from what I've been told. Whatever catches its fancy that night, it will reach into Mort's halls or even beyond to grant the lantern's owner a short time with the souls of their loved ones. A chance to say goodbye, or just to be together one last time... There are those who choose not to attend because it would be too painful yet. Or because their loved one has gone missing and they're afraid to know if their soul has already passed on," he added, voice growing softer and a little sad as he thought of his own lover.
