He chuckled at her cheeky dare, tilting a wry glance to Isuma. "If we show up covered in beestings, you'll know that they don't!"
He wasn't surprised to hear that there were no schools on Caido. They were rare enough in his own world, which didn't have a barrier to destroy trade and throttle growth. He tilted his head in consideration, though, the seed of an idea beginning to form. "That might be a task for the Loreseekers as well, once we're better established," he mused, thoughtful. "A school for those that wish to send their children to learn at least the basics, before they head off to begin learning their trades. Maths, at least, and basic reading and writing. Perhaps some history. And a chance to meet other children here, to foster friendships between the townsfolk and those who work the outskirts."Unspoken but also considered was that, when the barrier came down - as it would, sooner or later, with the weight of the Outlanders' courage and determination stretching it thin, to the breaking point - the people within might find it in their interest to be able to read and write when trade once more began to trickle in from the outside world.
Her comments in the simple, harsh realities of Caido life gave Jigano a moment's pause, though he didn't take it personally. He mostly fed himself from his own hunting in foxform, trading his songs and stories for better food at the Rathskeller - which in turn received food from those of the local populace who came for a drink and entertainment and companionship. It was a system that had held steady for two seasons, but it might not be sustainable in the long run, as he and 108 had noted.
Before he could decide how to answer that, another question caught him by surprise. He looked at her soberly, his good humor subsiding as he considered what she asked. "It is... dying," he said at last, softly, his mien gone solemn with the weight of his words. "Not in my lifetime, nor in the next but... the barrier blocks more than just the passage of people. It blocks renewal of the animals, the soil, the plants themselves. There is no new blood to liven up the stock animals - or the wild ones of the woods and fields. Animals and plants alike are... stunted. Smaller than their counterparts on my world. The colors are washed out of things, and the flavors, too. Whichever gods are opening the portals to bring outlanders in are, I think, trying to force a confrontation." Escape, or die trying - that was the ultimatum they were being given. It had not escaped the lorekeeper's attention, how the influx of outlanders strained the resources of the barrier. The ancient Ascended, 108, had agreed with him when he'd brought that very point up with them. One last roll of the mortal dice, double or nothing.
And, very possibly, a godwar waiting them in the other side of the cast.
He wasn't surprised to hear that there were no schools on Caido. They were rare enough in his own world, which didn't have a barrier to destroy trade and throttle growth. He tilted his head in consideration, though, the seed of an idea beginning to form. "That might be a task for the Loreseekers as well, once we're better established," he mused, thoughtful. "A school for those that wish to send their children to learn at least the basics, before they head off to begin learning their trades. Maths, at least, and basic reading and writing. Perhaps some history. And a chance to meet other children here, to foster friendships between the townsfolk and those who work the outskirts."Unspoken but also considered was that, when the barrier came down - as it would, sooner or later, with the weight of the Outlanders' courage and determination stretching it thin, to the breaking point - the people within might find it in their interest to be able to read and write when trade once more began to trickle in from the outside world.
Her comments in the simple, harsh realities of Caido life gave Jigano a moment's pause, though he didn't take it personally. He mostly fed himself from his own hunting in foxform, trading his songs and stories for better food at the Rathskeller - which in turn received food from those of the local populace who came for a drink and entertainment and companionship. It was a system that had held steady for two seasons, but it might not be sustainable in the long run, as he and 108 had noted.
Before he could decide how to answer that, another question caught him by surprise. He looked at her soberly, his good humor subsiding as he considered what she asked. "It is... dying," he said at last, softly, his mien gone solemn with the weight of his words. "Not in my lifetime, nor in the next but... the barrier blocks more than just the passage of people. It blocks renewal of the animals, the soil, the plants themselves. There is no new blood to liven up the stock animals - or the wild ones of the woods and fields. Animals and plants alike are... stunted. Smaller than their counterparts on my world. The colors are washed out of things, and the flavors, too. Whichever gods are opening the portals to bring outlanders in are, I think, trying to force a confrontation." Escape, or die trying - that was the ultimatum they were being given. It had not escaped the lorekeeper's attention, how the influx of outlanders strained the resources of the barrier. The ancient Ascended, 108, had agreed with him when he'd brought that very point up with them. One last roll of the mortal dice, double or nothing.
And, very possibly, a godwar waiting them in the other side of the cast.
