Simple Gifts

The winter's cold settled into Jigano's bones and he pulled his new cloak closer about his shoulders, appreciating the warmth of wool and fur - though not, of course, as warm as his own would have been. He'd been spending more and more time as beast rather than man just to survive the abrupt and brutal change in season thanks to how long the cold nights were growing. He was too gregarious, however, to ever shun human company completely, and he had begun a few tentative friendships among some of the natives and other Outlanders. Friendships that required time and maintenance, no less than any machine, and time was in short supply as he raced to learn what he could of a world that was breathtakingly, excitingly, terrifyingly new to him.

But... so old and worn down to those who had lived here their whole lives.

As he picked his way through the settlement his eyes glanced over the fading of bright colors, washed far too many times and rarely re-dyed due to the difficulty and expense of it. Stone that was shored up rather than replaced from a fresh quarry. Wood that was, yes, warped and riddled with dry rot from too long in weather that varied too fast and too suddenly. Even here, where the most care had been taken to patch the holes, to whitewash the brickwork, and create a semblance of normalcy things had a subtle undertone of weariness.

But also perseverance. Here were those who were determined not to give up, who took joy in hand and wrung the last ounce from it. Or at least, who saw nothing abnormal in the general air of age and genteel shabbiness, and who dutifully soldiered on in their normal lives and appointed tasks.

Today Jigano needed someone with a bit of both. A tradesman who could still call beauty from the fire, but steady enough to have studied his craft well. The bard hummed as he walked, sharp blue eyes on the lookout for the smith a Rathskeller regular had told him about. He found the building he had been told to look out for and slipped in the door, stamping the snow from his boots as he looked around curiously for whoever was in - and what the place looked like, as well. He could tell a lot about a craftsman from how they kept their shop and the quality of their goods on display.

"Hello?" he called out courteously. "Is the master of the shop in? I've a small commission for him, if he's open."

"OY." Called a voice gruffly from somewhere in the shop. "If you already fergot wat wurr simpul instrucshuns—" A wizened and round looking man appeared wearing a dirty apron and wiping his hands with a cloth that looked about as effective as using mud to cleanse ones eyes, abruptly halted seeing Jigano.

Narrowing his eyes as if it was difficult to see, the man regarded Jigano for a moment before seemingly coming to some internal decision. Wiping a hand across his mouth he waved a careless hand in Jigano's direction. "Be right there." So saying, he shuffled into the back and when he returned moments later, his hands were spotless and on his face were a set of glasses that magnified his eyes what appeared to be several hundred times making him look incredibly comical.

"Right. Wat's it you be wantin' lad?"

Jigano blinked, tilting his head as he parsed the thick accent before its own came into view. Not a gnome, but if he hadn't known better he might have thought there was some in the man's ancestry. For a moment they both looked at each other - one in confusion, the other in consternation - until the old man retreated, leaving the bard shifting his weight as he considered trying to go elsewhere. This smith had come with the best recommendations, but... maybe this was an employee?

Only years of training kept the lorekeeper's expression politely neutral when his, ah, host returned with the glasses perched on his face giving him such a bug-eyed appearance. But... well, what did he have to lose by asking?

"A few small pieces, trinkets really... animal charms, about the size of my thumb or smaller, that might be set to necklaces or stand without. I have coins I had thought you might be able to use for their raw materials, and I can pay in both entertainment and alcohol." Bless Vervain for paying him in barterable goods as well! "I had hoped you might be able to use these..." He plucked a bag of coins from where it had been hidden in a wide sleeve, tugging the tie loose to show the spill of small coppers, middling silvers, and a few peeks of large gold coins glinting in the pile.

Grunting the man shuffled forward. Either one of his legs was shorter than the other or his hip had been broken at some point and hadn't healed properly. Either way, he grudgingly made his way over, cheeks puffed out and red and covered in small veins that seemed far too close to the surface to be healthy.

" 'zat so." The man grumped extended a grubby (but clean) palm and making a give it here gesture. And, just in case Jigano was an idiot, added in: "Give 'em here." for good measure. Looking through the bag and poking at a few coins with a large and quite inflexible looking finger, he turned his bulging stare back up to Jigano. "E'nertainment huh?" He cackled, which quickly turned into a cough which he damped into his shoulder. The offer of alcohol made him scrunch his face unappealing as he shook his head. "Nawp. Never touched the stuff. Brings on the spirits so they do say."

With another grunt that sounded like a conclusion to a statement he hadn't made (or hadn't made out loud) he looked up at Jigano. "An' jus' how many you be wuntin'?"

The bard hesitated for a moment, considering the coins one last time. They were currency from his home - not all of it, but as much as he had thought would be needed, and it was certainly a sizeable portion of what he had. As a connection to his past they had sentimental value, though here on Caido their only monetary worth was in their base metal. But... they were also a bridge to his future. Even if he could have gone back through a portal he wasn't sure he would now. There were mysteries here, and no landmarks or names that wrapped chains of memories around his heart to drag it down. He could start fresh... well, mostly. He refused to set down the burden he carried, or abandon the ghosts he had given a home to. They were his responsibility, after all. Who else would remember them if he did not?

But... he couldn't continue on alone, not without losing an essential part of himself. He needed people to talk to, to laugh with, to protect, and to ask for help when he stumbled. Friends... new ones, whose warmth by no means diminished the loss of his old ones. In many ways they made things hurt more, all unknowing, as they kindled memories the lorekeeper had let grow dusty. But that was good, too. Both the pain, and the remembering.

Long fingers released the bag into the smith's keeping and Jigano stifled a sigh at the raunchy cackle. "Entertainment, yes," he repeated dryly. "Stories or songs, to make the time pass faster as you work." He tilted his head curiously. "But what spirits, 'do they say'?"

The bard had spent a fair amount of time coming to his decision, and he smiled at the question. "Three, for now. A golden horse, a silver fox, and a copper luxere, with antlers of gold, if your skill lives up to your reputation!"

"While I work, hnn?" He barked, shaking his heavily jowled head in a divisive no. "Hair like that and yer singin' and yer bound to have my wife in her with a broom shewin' you out." Honking a laugh, he wiped a tear from his eye before grunting again. "Nawp. 'Sides, this is good 'ol fashuned werk, ya ken? No majik here lad and unless you wunt to curl up thar in the corner, best you jus' come back in a few days."

The man ignored Jigano's question about spirits, giving him the stink eye as if to imply 1. that Jigano was an idiot, or 2. That he was just making fun of the man. Either way, the man horked up a good deal of yellowish spit, and spat it into a handkerchief all while looking unhappily at the bard.

"Three. Yarrr." The man made no comment on the descriptions, though he certainly seemed like the type to think a golden horse, a silver fox, and a luxere with golden antlers was a bit ostentatious. "If my wha'now?" The man barked, narrowing his eyes behind his absurd spectacles. Then, seeming to understand, he guffawed. "Guess y'er about to see laddy." He wheezed, seemingly entirely unbothered that potential future work was on the line.

Making a shewing gesture at Jigano, the man turned and hobbled into the back of his shop, coins in hand.

---

Hearing the bard's voice ring out roused the man from a nap he'd apparently been taking. "Not done yet lad." He barked, offering no indication of when Jigano should come back, and went back to sleep.

---

On the bard's third return, he'd find the man behind a counter with a swath of clothe before him. Waving at him as if to dispel any potential pleasantries or the like, he beckoned him over.

"Thar." He grunted proudly, pulling off the cloth as if revealing a magic trick. Now, for all of his poor hygiene and bad manners, there was clearly a reason that he'd been in business as long as he had. And that reason lay before the bard.

On the cloth were three perfectly rendered charms. The detail was incredible on each and the artistry unrivaled. If there were not fresh burns on the man's hands from smelting the coins down, one might be tempted to think that he'd somehow offloaded the work onto someone else. Though why anyone would do that and let this old geezer take the credit was perhaps even more unlikely.

Jigano blinked at the rowdy description of what the man's wife would do if she found him there, but gave the craftsman a bow of acquiescence when he asked for no other payment. He was feeling less and less certain about his choice to hand his precious coins over to this man but... the reputation of the place...

Neither man was completely happy, it seemed: the smith with his request, and Jigano with the other man's personal habits, but it seemed the deal was as good as struck. "I guess I will..." he murmured, and at the abrupt dismissal he made his way slowly from the shop.

Three days later he returned, only to be turned away with no sign of progress, and his worry only increased.

The third time he returned, this time with a grim light in his eye and the intention to make the smith prove he'd been working, he was actually invited in. He was surprised enough that he obeyed, biting back his threats to approach the counter with a rising flicker of hope in his breast.

With some showmanship - but no fine words - the cloth was removed to reveal--

Exactly what the bard had imagined in his mind's eye. He sucked in a breath, awestruck as he reached out towards the charms, but not quite touching their gleaming, polished surfaces. Each one was a masterwork, elegant and nearly lifelike yet so small as to be wearable - or carried as a luckpiece. Jigano blinked back an unexpected well of emotion in his eyes, knowing the smith would appreciate it no more than he did, and when he spoke his voice was a bit gruff.

"They're incredible. Everything I had hoped for, and far more than I had dared to expect. What price, mastersmith? If I can pay it, I will."

The man looked for absolutely no signs of appreciation or approval. He was a man who clearly seemed aware of his worth and knew well the type of work he was capable of creating.

However suddenly a rather sheepish look came over his face. Reaching up to scratch at his forehead, Jigano might (probably would in fact) notice just how knobby his fingers were and how inflamed the joints were. His fingers shook slightly now in a way they hadn’t before. Whether that was a result of the dexterous and tedious work he’d just performed on Jigano’s commission was unknown, but it was likely.

”Yarrr now that ye menshun it...” With an awkwardness not seen before, he scratched his forehead, lowered his hands and looked at them before clearing his throat. ”These ol’ bones ain’ wat they used ter’ be. Wut with LongNight comin’ i’d appreshiate if yer could bring ‘round some fir’wood.” Despite the fact that this seemed to be very reasonable payment terms, the man looked a bit flustered to be asking for help in this way.

Jigano found himself caught by surprise at the sudden turn towards bashfulness in the old curmudgeon. It was the very act of hiding his face inadvertently behind his hands that drew the lorekeeper's attention, and he let a small frown tug at his mouth at how poorly they looked. The man may have been a master of his craft, but the years had not been kind to him. The price of creating such beauty was a high one, and Jigano's mind immediately went to Isla, wondering if the medic could help. But--

"Firewood?" he repeated slowly, making sure he understood the thick accent correctly. "Mastersmith, I would be glad to do that for you." All his running about the woods in fox form had given him a fine knowledge of a number of fallen trees, in fact, that would do nicely. He could do it himself, or trade songs and stories for other, stronger folks to bring him wood for the old man. But that wouldn't help his fingers, or the swelling likely in his other joints. No wonder he was so abrupt with people. If he was in constant pain all the time, Jigano knew he'd be no less snappish.

"I'll start tomorrow," he promised, mind already whirring with ideas. He'd start tonight at the Rathskeller, letting the folk there know that he was looking for tips and payment in firewood for awhile. It would take a day or two to start to accumulate like that, but it would free him up for an idea that was tickling his thoughts. He'd read about herbs in a labyrinth, with incredible properties. Perhaps they were just a myth but... then again, perhaps not.

With a bow of respect for the old man, the bard turned and walked out to set his plans into motion.

It was a week before he returned properly, but every morning of that week a small rick of fire wood was left outside the smithy; whether the old man and his wife needed it for the day or instead stored it, Jigano didn't care. His main collection spot near the tavern's pile grew day by day as those who listened to his songs and stories left a few logs, and with winter's chill the Rathskeller was often full. He also called in some very small favors from those he had helped to rescue from the sentient book, and of course, he ventured to the labyrinth in search of something that he hoped would prove as welcome as the wood.

Creating a salve from it had taken a bit of experimenting, but with the help of the medics Jigano had a good supply of the medicine that he hoped would help with the old man's arthritis. Walking beside a shaggy pony, he whistled in the midmorning sunshine. His companion was a quiet sort, but since it was his cart and pony Jigano was borrowing, the bard could hardly mind the company. They came to a halt outside the smithy and the lorekeeper slipped in the door much as he had that first time, bright blue eyes looking around for a familiar, wizened face.

"Hello?" he called out cheerfully. "Mastersmith, are you in?"

"CLOSD." Came the now-familiar raspy voice, though it sounded far more strained than normal. Glaring up from the back of his shop, the man's crotchety and grumpy expression softened instantly upon seeing Jigano. The lines on his face were still deep and his frown remained fixed in place, but his lip quivered thoughtfully as she stared at the young man. "I ain't seen ya', bu' I assume its been yew placin' tha wood outside every mornin'?" Fumbling with a cloth, the man tried to wipe the grime clean from his hands. It was relatively unsuccessful, the obvious signs of his craft more or less stained permanently into his skin now, but the effort was a genuine one.

Snaking out from behind the counter, the man limped over and offered a rather shaky hand towards Jigano. His gnarled and twisted fingers danced with age and arthritis, and though shaking the young man's hand was likely something that would cause a twinge of pain to race through his old bones, still he persevered.

Jigano caught the softening in the old smith's gaze, and he smiled as he offered a respectful bow to the old master. "I wanted you to know I hadn't forgotten our payment," he explained. "It was taking me a little while to gather enough for all of Long Night, though." And for, he hoped, most of the rest of Deepfrost leading up to it.

Jigano took the man's hand gently, but not so gingerly as to offend the man's pride. "I've more wood out front. If you let me know where you want it piled I'll start unloading it. I had also hoped to ask a favor of you, if you're willing?" He tilted his head hopefully, retrieving his hand and dipping into a pocket of his sleeve to find the jar of salve. "There's someone I'd like to introduce to you. An outlander, recently arrived, who says he has some experience as a smith. But of course, he no longer has his tools or a forge to work at. I had thought that perhaps, if the two of you get on alright, you might loan him a bit of time here in exchange for his help with the forge chores?"

He wasn't sure, but if the old man was anything like some of the other master craftsman he had known he was too proud for handouts or charity. So - a deal, then. An exchange, something both could benefit from.

He set the jar down on the counter with a lopsided smile. "If you don't get on, of course, that's between you and him. All I ask is a meeting. And I know your time is valuable, so I brought this to offer in exchange. It's a salve made from efas herb, gathered in the labyrinth. Will you meet Caiside, and see how it goes with him?"

The first bundle had been more or less expected. The second a happy surprise. The remainder? A boon the old man felt swelling against the cockles of his rickety old heart. "Used ter be mah boys did all tha'." He croaked, running a hand through thinning and sparse hair, appearing both weary and melancholy. " Tis' appreciated lad."

The mention of needing a favour made the old man grunt in response, eyes narrowing with a distrusting skepticism, but he said nothing, merely puckered his lower lip against the top and listened with beady eyes rapt. "Outlan'r? bahh." The man grumped, waving a dismissive hand. "Ain't seen nunofem in years, and then a whole group 'ppears outta tha blue?" Shaking his head and making a tsking sound, he wagged a gnarled finger at Jigano. "Ain't nuthin' gud will com'of'it, I tell yet tha' right now."

As proud and stuck in his ways as he was, even Jigano's small act of kindness had demonstrated just how tough time had been on the man. Glancing down at the jar, the old man puckered his lip again, nose wrinkling as he considered. "A meetin' huh..." He grumbled, thinking it over. However as Jigano sweetened the deal, the man audibly gasped, eyes growing wide as he stared at the jar with a new found respect. "From the laby-rinth?" He all but whispered. Though his hands were in poor condition, it was for his wife that he was truly worried about. Her breathing had become so laboured she could hardly get out of bed. He'd endure a thousand aches and pains just to hear her laugh again...

"Well...I guess I could meet with yer outlander. Kay-sigh?" He repeated, butchering the name but having not really made any real attempt to say it properly anyways.

Another time, perhaps, he could ask about the man's family, but it seemed a source of pain and Jigano had not come to reopen old wounds. Rather, he'd hoped to heal some. "It's a good price for your skill," he said simply, glad he had waited and gathered so much.

He had expected the grumpy distrust, but kept the smile from his face as he instead made his earnest pitch. "We might bring trouble, or we might bring luck," he shrugged, not taking insult at being lumped in with the rest. They were a restless bunch, himself included, and that wouldn't be appreciated by those who saw no need for change. "Only time will tell, I suppose. But we all need to try and survive the win-- Deepfrost," he corrected himself.

"It was an exciting day," he explained, lips twitching wryly at the awkward conversations with Remi and the boggart attack and the blasted squirrels. "But yes, that's all I ask. Is there a good time I can tell him to come by?" The jar was staying, and that was what really mattered, but if he could do Caiside a good turn as well, then Jigano would gladly help two for the price of one.