He let Freina speak without interruption, sensing that this was something she needed to get off her chest. He was patient as they jogged, neither approving or disapproving of her self-deprecations. Her comparisons did draw a wry quirked smile from his lips and he nodded. "It can be, yes. For most Outlanders it sounds like a similar experience."
He exhaled carefully, measuring his pace to match Freina's, sharp eyes following the broad trail of flattened grass from hopping and rolling gourds. "Perhaps this may help, but though magic is seen as a curse within the Hollowed Grounds, it's far less shunned in other regions. Magic seems to be accepted in both Halo and Torchline without facing ire from the Old Gods." He paused a moment, then asked, "Have you had time to think about what else you might consider doing with your life, if you won't inherit your family's farm anymore? Is that something you were training for?"
"Something I was raised for," she answered as they ran. "Quanil was never going to stay, and we all knew that. I was going to get the farm and now I'm not, and... well, no, sir, I haven't figured out what to do with myself now.
"Mr. Wordsworth mentioned the academy in Halo, but I'm not sure if I even want to..." make this worse, "improve my magic, and I'm definitely sure I want nothing to do with Zariah Launceleyn. Whole damn family's a worse curse than magic, to my mind. I just..."
Pause to catch breath as she continued to run. "You seem to actually be a good man. No offense, but Quanil's not the best judge of character. But you've been good enough to help and heal me anyway, and you have magic. What would you suggest?"
Quanil would say that whatever Jigano said was clearly the best suggestion and should be followed scrupulously. But Freina just wanted to hear different ideas, and she wasn't beyond employing a little flattery to get it (even if, so far anyway, everything she'd said was true).
03-30-2020, 06:00 PM
(This post was last modified: 03-31-2020, 01:39 AM by Jigano.)
She'd had some time to think; a turn of seasons since the Fiat Lux disaster and the blossoming of her powers, but she was even younger than Quanil and her world had shattered around her. Jigano listened as sympathetically as he could while running at the pace Freina set, and his sharp eyes caught sight of little bobbing pumpkin in the distance, the small gourdling unable to keep up with its bigger siblings, but it showed hope that they might yet catch up to some of them.
Mention of Zariah's academy drew a low rumble of disapproval from his chest, but it subsided into a firm nod of agreement that she was, indeed, a curse upon the world.
Jigano couldn't help but snort in amusement at being called a 'good man' in spite of Quanil's recommendation. He didn't disagree with Freina's analysis though, and her question was gratifying. He took such questions very seriously, especially when the one asking was so young, and he ran in silence for a few moments as he considered what he knew of the young woman's circumstance and situation. "There is more than enough work to be done even beyond your family's farm that I think you'll be able to trade for necessities while you find your path. If you have questions about training your new abilities, General Deimos is a quiet but patient instructor, or I could offer my experience," he suggested.
He paused, slanting a glance over to Freina. "How do you feel about goats and horses?"
"Goats have creepy eyes," was the first thing she said, "but they're both okay. Good, useful animals."
She was distracted by the options. Options that had nothing to do with the self-appointed Merciless Tyrant. That was a start. And a bit of a surprise that Jigano hadn't only recommended himself. Maybe having magic doesn't make you mad with - or for - power.
"I don't have experience working with either. Never rode, but sometimes I'd feed a treat to a merchant's horse." She paused. "I've seen horses eat squash before." She grinned at the fleeting sight of a gourd rolling through the grass up ahead of them. Perhaps the pernicious pumpkins - and other gourds - could face the peril of stompy hooves and bitey teeth!
"They do, but I'm glad to hear you think they're okay," he chuckled. "Well... it's just a thought for now. We'll see where things are at after LongNight." He and Rory might need someone to take care of the farm for a couple of seasons, and if Freina needed someplace to stay while she worked out what she wanted to do with her life it might be a good compromise. Something familiar to her, but different enough to challenge her and to give her an excuse to be away from the Settlement for a time while she made sure she could control her power.
"Rory's horses are a good little herd," he agreed fondly. "Bakshi is a steady old gentleman, and Talys is reliable as the seasons. Esaia, now... she's a fiery young mare, but she respects a confident hand on the reins." Even if he was happiest on staid Bakshi while Rory exercised the two younger mares. He grinned and slowed his pace just a touch, letting Freina pull ahead as they gained on the hindmost gourd. It was so intent on catching up with its pack that it hadn't noticed them yet. A bit bigger than a softball, it was hopping along with a mighty effort to pull its weight in the vengeance of its Queen.
"Ladies first," he demurred quietly, motioning for Freina to take revenge of her own for her earlier assault by the vicious vegetables.
She wasn't sure what Jigano was planning, what these thoughts of his were that might be put after until after the LongNight. Maybe he was just trying to distract her with talk of the horses?
"They sound very nice," she said noncommittally.
She was still running when he slowed behind her and bade her go first. She ran up to the small gourd and picked it up with both hands, hefted it above her head and threw it down with a great amount of force.
It broke open on the bottom, not quite smashing entirely, and she stomped on it to hasten its demise. Or because it just felt good. It felt really good to just BE. ANGRY. at something, to let out the frustration and hurt and bewilderment.
She stood there, panting heavily from the running and the sheer anger she'd just let out, then looked to the still-moving mob. She smiled at Jigano. "Thank you! Let's go!" and took off after the gourds again.
He had thought girls tended to like horses, but perhaps that was just something on his world. Or simply a stereotype; it wasn't as though the Hollowed Grounds had many examples to show off, after all. The horses were as stunted as everything else, and large and finicky enough to be a rare breed, those few that had survived the centuries. Hardly the magnificent creatures of childhood dreams.
Then again, he was undoubtedly biased in their favor after living with Rory for a year.
Further talk was curtailed by the confrontation with the first cucurbit, and he grinned with sharp amusement as she caught it up while it chattered with rage at such manhandling. The chattering was silenced in a sudden crack as Freina squashed the squash with extreme prejudice. He should probably be more understanding of the local flora fauna?, but there was no denying that they were annoying pests, and occasionally dangerous in numbers.
"You're welcome," he called, chuckling as he followed in her wake. There were another trio a short distance ahead, and a larger wave beyond them, just cresting a small hill to roll towards the outskirts of the settlement. They might not be able to catch them all, but they could certainly thin their numbers!
"You take the one on the left, I'll take the one on the right, and we'll meet in the middle," he called to her as they came up on the trailing trio and he headed towards the rightmost goose-necked gourd with fire blossoming around his fist.
"Yes!" For a long time, she would have said "Right!" but you learned not to do that with Quanil around because then it would devolve into "Did you mean 'right' as in the direction or 'right' in agreement?" and you'd never get anything done.
The horde was getting away from them, and there was never a hope of squashing them all before they reached Sanctuary. But they'd do what they could. If nothing else, she could maybe distract some of the ones at the back, get them to turn to her and Jigano and thus away from everyone else.
She ran up to the leftmost gourd of the trio. It was pumpkin-y, nicely round. "Hey, I saw my sibling carries a staff now. Is that a Loreseeker thing?" she called over to Jigano. Quanil wasn't the only curious one in the family, just the one who let it get the best of them.
She picked up the gourd and yelled "HEADS - or GOURDS - UP!" at the horde before throwing the pumpkin into their midst, as hard as she could. It landed with a thud and a squishy crack, guts oozing out of it, and a good half dozen gourds stopped in their... tracks? and turned back towards her, hissing in anger.
She just grinned and headed for the remaining gourd of the trio. She wasn't sure she'd get to it before Jigano, but the plan had been to meet in the middle.
"I think it's a Quanil thing." Jigano chuckled as he caught up with his target. The conversation was a dead giveaway to their presence and the gourd turned and snapped at him, as aggressive as any goose. One of Jigano's friends was a goose, though - well, sometimes - and he was ready for it, pulling his hand back just far enough to avoid getting bit and then lashing out to grab it by the neck and turn its rind to ash. As the two pieces fell away behind him he looked over to see Freina go gourd-bowling and grinned in approval of the plucky young woman.
The acorn squash launched itself at Freina, shrieking in retaliation as it aimed for her right knee. The half dozen she had gained the attention of began to roll and hop back towards them, and Jigano took the moment to create a wooden javelin which he threw forcefully at the nearest, impaling it and pinning it to the ground as it wriggled and wailed. "What about you? Is there a weapon that you'd prefer?" he asked politely.
Freina shrieked and instinctively shot her hand out at it. The puff of air that emerged was enough to knock the acorn squash back. "Right now a mallet would be good. Large hammer. Mattock handle." She grabbed for the small squash and threw it at the small gourd horde that had broken loose to come after them. It knocked a couple of them aside before it smacked and shattered - smattered? - against the ground.
She stood there for a moment to catch her breath. "As a young lady..." She had to pause occasionally for more air. "I'm quite prepared... to knee someone in the... in the groin if they get too handsy, but... that won't... really work here." She wound back and kicked an oncoming gourd. It went flying... and so did her shoe. They were her nice flats, what she'd been wearing at the Festival. She muttered a couple choice words, sighed, and bent down to take off her other shoe. "They're all gooey with gourd guts anyway. I'll get the other one in a bit."
Jigano thought for a moment, then reached for the scintillating strings of his creation magic, now inextricably interwoven with earth and fire. The melody was silent to all but himself, but after a moment's concentration while Freina distracted the gourds he managed to create what she had asked for, handing it over with a smile for her willingness to throw a knee in all the right places, even as he hid his own instinctive wince at the imagery. "Given that they don't have hands or groins, it does seem a bit difficult to work with," he agreed, a twinkle of humor in his eye.
A second javelin flew to impale a third gourd, even as the first continued to wriggle and whimper its slow death upon the stake. It bought Freina enough time to play with her shoes, at least, for the oncoming gourds had not stopped, and the trio that had been knocked askew by their acorn brethren were back on the warpath, more militant than ever. Two of them were larger pumpkins, meaning business, and Jigano stepped forward to meet them with teeth bared as he reached out and yanked on the ground beneath them, jerking two sharp, twisting spires of earth up to puncture them from below. Quanil might have recognized the move as the far more lethal version of what he had used to help them train their footwork with.
"Don't take your eyes off the enemy," he warned her. "Remember what they did to you earlier. We're better prepared now, but they can still break an ankle with enough momentum, and the larger ones can take a nasty bite out of your leg." A polite way of saying: worry about your shoes once the last three marauders have been vanquished, for one yet remained and it was gunning for the squash-tosser.
She blinked when he created a large hammer out of... out of nothing. She was a little afraid to take it at first and then, when she dropped her remaining shoe to reach out for it, surprised again at how heavy it was, how real. She hefted it and then situated her hands on the handle where they felt comfortable. She turned to the gourds, grinning wickedly. None of Quanil's hesitancy about hurting things; not for the gourd horde who'd hurt her first anyway.
She actually took a step back when the earth jutted upwards in sharp spikes of doom. "Your..." Don't say curse, don't say curse, "...magic is impressive."
She danced back and to the side as the aggressive gourd lunged for her, fangs bared. She brought the hammer down, figuratively and literally, but it lunged for her again, so she barely caught some of the... back? of the thing. The side farthest from the mouth got a bit smooshed.
And of course it left her open, lunging for her lower leg, just above her foot. "Ow! Sonuva..." She hung her hammer upside down and swung it as hard as she dared at the gourd - it was enough to make one wonder if the Hollowed Ground had croquet. More to the point, the strike was enough to dent the gourd again, and to knock the literal ankle-biter free. It rolled a little ways away, and she summoned up enough energy - through anger and fear - to smash it flat, at last. She stayed there, bent over, hammer in a mess of gooey gourd guts, as she caught her breath.
"On my world my earliest magic came from the gods," he explained with a wry smile that indicated he knew what she had been about to say. "Some magic was innate, some was learned, and some was a gift of the divine. I had a bit of all three. It was quite a shock to me when I came here and found it wasn't seen as a gift or a tool, but instead as something to be avoided."
With two pumpkins impaled in place, and two smaller gourds likewise dying slow, twitching deaths the bard reached out with his fire to turn them to ash one by one, giving them far swifter ends - in Edrei's honor, a wistful thought winging to Mort's realm, hoping she was watching.
Turning back to Freina, he saw her mauling the last of the spheroid scalawags before taking a break. A glance showed the rest of the hoard rolling into the Ruins and spreading out, and he smiled ruefully as he sent a silent prayer to Ludo to watch over those poor souls about to get squashed.
"How do you feel?" he asked gently of his companion, turning his attention back to her as he let the earthen spires shift back to smooth ground. Somehow his question seemed to be asking about more than just her ankle.
"Well," she began, releasing the handle of the hammer and straightening up, "actually, I feel surprisingly good. I've been so sad and angry and upset and confused. But there's really nothing confusing about smashing a whole lot of vampire gourds that attacked you."
She smiled. "Of course, now I need to go find my other shoe." One of them was just over there, where she'd dropped it, but the other was... well, she had a direction to head in, at least. She went to pick it up and hissed when she put weight on the bitten ankle. "Right. Fuckin' little ankle-biter..." She picked up her shoe, and looked towards Sanctuary. "I wish we'd been able to get more of them."
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