He tilted his head thoughtfully at her question, and while he did Weaver clarified, earning a wry smile and a nod from the bard. "I was going to say, it depends on how you define 'risk.' And until things are over - one way or the other, peacefully or violently, regardless of who 'wins' - there's no way of knowing which choices, which decisions, will lead to the least bloodshed... or the most." It wasn't a choice he had made lightly, but he hoped that Weaver would never face the lessons that he had in the Voice's disregard for non-Ascended lives.
Not all, but admittedly most Fae were rude. Still, hopefully the ones brave and curious enough to travel beyond the Greatwood would be of a more tolerant stock?
"Korbin..." the bard mused thoughtfully. "Dark hair? Taller than me? Deaf?" Or so he'd been the second time they'd met, though Jigano didn't really know if the boy had been able to hear him or not, out on the Sea of Glass. He winced with amused sympathy at the midlife crisis, offering a rueful nod. "I've met him twice now, I think. He's been... less than friendly both times, but he was a hard worker. And he has a lovely voice." Loren was certainly right about that.
"That's how life is for many in the Hollowed Grounds, too," he admitted with a sigh, remembering clearly how hard it was to get food to grow and keep animals alive in the still-barren earth. "But things are getting better, slowly but steadily." Life was returning, albeit at its own pace. And with it, hope. And on hope he chuckled at her question. "Most of it dovetails quite nicely or I'd never be able to fit it all in," he admitted. "But I was a Loreseeker first. The Advisor position sprang from that, doing more of what I already was to help other Outlanders with this world they find themselves in. And those are just fancy titles that let me be a busybody - but officially," he added with a wink. "As for what I've learned... gods most fortunate, I'm filling books with it," he chuckled, delighted. "I've learned what a Spark Bird looks like, and what a frost giant smells like, and a rough estimate of the wingspan of a grey dragon. I've learned what the cry of a new-hatched gryphon sounds like, and the color of a soul, and the crackle of rye the day before it's ready to harvest. I've learned to always watch my feet when walking in the Fields in case of Landsharks, and how to grill a single worm to feed a family of eight." He arched a brow in playful challenge at Weaver. "And what have you learned of this dangerous, fascinating world of yours, that you would pass along to a too-curious Outlander seeking to learn more of it?"
Not all, but admittedly most Fae were rude. Still, hopefully the ones brave and curious enough to travel beyond the Greatwood would be of a more tolerant stock?
"Korbin..." the bard mused thoughtfully. "Dark hair? Taller than me? Deaf?" Or so he'd been the second time they'd met, though Jigano didn't really know if the boy had been able to hear him or not, out on the Sea of Glass. He winced with amused sympathy at the midlife crisis, offering a rueful nod. "I've met him twice now, I think. He's been... less than friendly both times, but he was a hard worker. And he has a lovely voice." Loren was certainly right about that.
"That's how life is for many in the Hollowed Grounds, too," he admitted with a sigh, remembering clearly how hard it was to get food to grow and keep animals alive in the still-barren earth. "But things are getting better, slowly but steadily." Life was returning, albeit at its own pace. And with it, hope. And on hope he chuckled at her question. "Most of it dovetails quite nicely or I'd never be able to fit it all in," he admitted. "But I was a Loreseeker first. The Advisor position sprang from that, doing more of what I already was to help other Outlanders with this world they find themselves in. And those are just fancy titles that let me be a busybody - but officially," he added with a wink. "As for what I've learned... gods most fortunate, I'm filling books with it," he chuckled, delighted. "I've learned what a Spark Bird looks like, and what a frost giant smells like, and a rough estimate of the wingspan of a grey dragon. I've learned what the cry of a new-hatched gryphon sounds like, and the color of a soul, and the crackle of rye the day before it's ready to harvest. I've learned to always watch my feet when walking in the Fields in case of Landsharks, and how to grill a single worm to feed a family of eight." He arched a brow in playful challenge at Weaver. "And what have you learned of this dangerous, fascinating world of yours, that you would pass along to a too-curious Outlander seeking to learn more of it?"
