Drowned do not dawdle.

Are

How could one resume what had been lost to the waters? Lost for ages, or that was at least what the man told himself. It was easier to think of it all as lost, to think of the world that was once his as gone with the shifting tides was enough to placate any niggling doubt he might have had. At least for the moment. What was once lost had been found again, and at that very moment, his breath was all he cared about.

Coughing and heaving soon followed the first mouthful of fresh spring air. Brackish lake water, a taste of home, made it all come crashing into existence again. Images of a toppling boat under blackened skies and an oar etching the last impression forever into his mind. Her. He tried to yell her name, tried to call out for her. Nothing but coughing and a pathetic gurgling noise was all he could muster.

Stars, so many stars filled his vision and everything felt numb. Have I passed? He thought and tried sitting up, slowly, as the sound of rushing blood in his ears died down. The dry and broken ground under him was soaked, as was he, to the very bone.  Yes, Hel. Warmer, though. He reasoned with himself, dead was good. An easy explanation and a good truth, enough to keep the worries from growing. The fact that the dead wasn’t supposed to feel pain took long enough to ignore, weak enough to push aside for more pressing matters, but germinate it did.

Dead, and alone. She is safe, she must be. Valhall, or Midgård, but alive. The thought was soothing enough for the moment, allowing Are to focus on more pressing matters. He was used to the ache, a body accustomed to the dull reminder of a hard day’s work. With a groan and a sigh he got up and brushed the worst mud of his tunic. In the distance there was fields, woods and a tower, the likes of which he had never seen before. “By the gods…” he whispered under his breath and spat out what little water remained in his mouth.

”Heill? Hello?” something had moved at the edge of his vision, brush pushed aside and let back again. Lingering worries vanished in the face of more pressing matters, even as dead he seemed keen on living. Frozen in place with a hand on his knife he waited, seemingly without breathing or blinking.

The memorial garden had been planted well thanks to Caiside's help, and Jigano was heading back from weeding it when a voice caught his attention. He hadn't been expecting anyone else out on the rolling meadowland; hadn't seen anyone on his way out and the place that Isla had fallen hadn't been any farmer's planted field. Isuma perked up on his shoulder, however, the pale furred-and-feathered gryphlet peeping curiously and Jigano found himself looking around until he spotted a man a little distance away. He was oddly still, just... standing there.

The bard glanced aside to his little companion and raised a brow. "Shall we?" he murmured, and feeling her eager assent he chuckled and changed direction to stride towards the stranger.

Long white hair was caught back in a neat braid, and he wore a light grey sleeveless overtunic over a pale green undertunic with wide sleeves. Brown leather trousers tucked into calf-high boots with soft soles as he approached the stranger. On his shoulder sat a small creature that looked catlike at first glance, but with the head and foreclaws resembling an owl, and a pair of wings on her back in the midst of fledging. Jigano smiled and held up a hand as he noted the sodden man, even though there hadn't been any showers in the last hour.

"Hello, stranger," he greeted, blue eyes curious in his tanned-golden face. "Are you alright?"

Are

Stifling a shriek worthy of a sickly hawk, Are flung around and fumbled with drawing his knife. After tossing it forcefully into the groud, blade buried in the soil, he froze again and slowly looked up. A very peculiar man for a place like this, not the kind of man one would expect to find in the land of the dead. Not dead, I think...


"I..." was all he managed to muster, a broken voice behind gritted teeth. Another breath of fresh air sent a shiver down his spine, maybe the creeping cold helped. Suddenly aware of his manners, Are straightened up and lowered his gaze, mother always said it was not polite to stare.


"I am Are son of Jorm, from Aros." he said as politely as one could expect from a man spat out by the void. "Pardon my, uh, reaction. I am lost." his accent made it sound harsher than intended, but it did neatly wrap up his feelings. Her, where!? Panic started to set in, doubts turned to fears as the realization struck. Color drained from his cheeks and his eyes darted around in search of a sign, anything. He knew very well she couldn't swim and would end up here with him sooner or later.


"A woman, hair like straw and a blue apron, have you seen her? She goes by..." the word stuck in his throat, in his mind. The image was worn, faded, as if the passing had turned his memories dull.

Jigano paused his approach, smile fading and brow arching as the man stumbled and started throwing knives around. There was no snake or magna vermis or carnivorous plant there that he could see just... a knife sticking in the earth, quivering from the force of the throw.

Then again, the wild look of confusion and fear on the stranger's face made it more and more likely that he was new to Caido - very new. Fresh off the portal, so to speak, and with the usual disorientation that accompanied such. "Are, son of Jorm, it is my pleasure to meet you," the bard said formally, offering a little bow as Isuma held on to the padding on his shoulder with practiced balance. "I am Jigano, of the Loreseekers of Caido. And I understand your uncertainty." He looked the man over again, a wry but friendly smile on his lips. "Perhaps I can--"

Before he could continue, Are grew upset again, casting about wildly for something - someone - that wasn't there. Drawing in a slow breath, Jigano gave a slight shake of his head, though he obediently looked around the landscape in case he had simply missed her. "You're the only one I've seen out here today," he said gently. "This place - this world - is called Caido. You aren't the first, and I doubt you'll be the last, to arrive from elsewhere against your will." He glanced back at the direction he had come from, and the memorial garden he had planted for another friend displaced in space and time. "I can walk with you and we can look for her, though?" He didn't expect to find the woman Are mentioned if she hadn't arrived through the same portal and place, but it might help the frantic man if he felt like he was doing something rather than standing around talking about how his world had just changed forever.

Are

Like he did what seemed like not more than a few minutes ago, his heart sunk. Out of all the things the strange man had said, unknown places, people, and guilds, only one thing stuck to his panicked mind.The only one. No one else. Alone. The thoughts echoed through his head, shattering the fragile little house of sticks and lies he’d just finished. Are felt as if his veins filled with ice, but his mind kept spinning. More and more ideas, wild and farfetched, added to the maelstrom in his head.

A deep sigh helped clear things, focus on what little he knew and had. Pendant, shoes and knife. All he needed. Right, the knife. From the ground he plucked the short blade, wiped it on his soggy sleeve and ushered it back to its sheathe. ”Sorry, I was startled, I mean no harm.” he said, voice not yet settled from the rush of being thrown into existence. Finally finding his manners, Are mirrored the slight bow and cleared his throat. ”It can wait. I will find her. Eventually…” muttering the last word more to himself than to Jigano, he looked upon the stranger again. Details previously lost to his clouded mind made Are chew the inside of his cheek and again tense up.

"Yes, I walk with you." he stated curtly, nodded and scanned the horizon. ”Say, what does one do after death? Am I just to wander alone, or do we have a purpose? Are you a guide of sorts?” the questions came quicker now that Are had become numb to the absurdity of the situation. Dead, talking to a peculiar stranger with clothes as strange as the creature on his shoulder. Could’ve been worse, could’ve been gone forever.

Jigano watched patiently as Are gathered himself and his belongings together. Gathered his fear and pain, too, and tucked them just as neatly away. "No apology is needed. You aren't the first I've greeted from a far world," Jigano said with a gracious nod, though he kept his smile hidden in deference for the man's worry over his lost companion. Are's manners were, at least, impeccable in spite of his soggy appearance and the bard appreciated his poise - and his determination.

The man's clothes didn't tell Jigano much about him, and all his manners meant were that he came from a somewhat similar civilization, but they would have time to sort out a few things as they walked. The Settlement wasn't terribly far, but it was still a healthy walk. Are's tone might have been sharp, but given that he had just been flung through time and space to a strange world and had just lost a companion who might well have been a loved one, Jigano took no mind of it.

"After death, Ludo collects your soul and holds it in limbo until it can be returned to Mort," Jigano answered, gesturing politely for the man to follow him. Isuma watched him with rapt curiosity, yellow eyes unblinking in her owlet face. "So it is just as well that you aren't dead here. And yes, I can guide you - to the settlement, where people live. Both those that were born here, and those that were brought here like yourself, from far away places," he added, beginning to walk. "Ludo and Mort are gods of death here," he explained, forestalling what he guessed would be the next question. "Well... Ludo is, currently." He didn't stop the quirking of his lips as he considered the complicated mess of secrets and conflicting stories and gods and lost souls. "I am a Loreseeker - one who seeks knowledge to aid others. And also a bard, by trade. But... you may need some time to, ah, come to terms with what has happened to you. I can answer your questions - or try to - when you're ready to ask them," he offered, setting a slow pace to the east across the meadow which was bursting with new life - and yet, still looked vaguely washed out and struggling to thrive.

Are

Are managed to stay silent throughout Jigano's, in Are's mind, long winded explanations of things far beyond what the cobbler was ready to accept. Biting his tongue but slowly shaking his head as the bard filled the air with answer to questions not yet asked. A world away, yet the same kind. Are said to himself and again began biting the inside of his cheek. He allowed a moment to pass, only listening to the sound of the wet leather and wool against the ground as they walked.

"A priest then?" he asked and swallowed the lump in his throat. The words conjured up yet more images, but now of the time just before the journey cut short, or long, depending on perspective. "One seeking to enlighten another heathen brought upon the lands, even in Hel I find your kind." he concluded, a mind so fractured by the previous events and revelations not much made sense anymore. Yet there started to emerge some patterns in the swirling madness. Content with his interpretation, flawed as it might be, he regained some of the spring in his step.

"Say, you seem sprightly for a dead fellow, how come here's not cold as they say?" Are asked, more thinking out loud to keep his mind occupied than to have his questions answered. "Nevermind. Forgive me, my mind is not used to being dead. It needs to be on more pressing matters, as how one could get a meal and a seat by the fire? he asked, waving his hand as to disperse the previous musings of his addled mind. Even though the outlook was grim, being dead was better than nothing. At least he had some semblance of life it seemed. Enough to find her? No, not yet.

Jigano hesitated as Are spoke as if he hadn't heard a thing the bard had said. "I am not a priest," he said, stifling the annoyance firmly. "And this is Caido, not Hell." The words were similar enough to be easily mistaken for each other, though they meant very different things to the two men.

He did sigh a little - a small personal indulgence - at the continued blithe ignorance of what he'd tried to explain before. Perhaps it had been too much? Or perhaps Seiji and Nairi had simply been more... flexible, in their worldviews. "I'm not dead. Neither are you. And as I told you, I'm leading you towards a settlement - something like a small town - where you will be able to find both food and drink." He glanced aside at his companion, reminding himself to be patient. "Would you tell me Are, son of Jorm, what you were doing before you came through the portal? It looks as though you were swimming with your clothes on." Isuma studied the man intently from her perch, but for once showed no interest in getting closer to say hello. The man looked distressingly damp, and she was not a fan of wet feathers!

Are

The sigh, however slight it was, seemed to shake some kind of sense into Are. There he was. Supposedly dead. Drowned and sent to Niflheim where he now threw scorn in the face of a scholar. His mother would've had him dipped in the tanning vats for such idiocy, and as dull as Are might've been, he was kinder than that. A man kind enough to lead him to food, drink, and shelter. To grant him knowledge, however untrue it seemed. A good man, unlike me.

Are suppressed a snort at the absurdity of it all, and how Jigano had worded his demise. "One can say that, I sank. An oar struck me and sent me down when we capsized, sent us... me here." he said, what little merriment he had washed from his face as yet again the realities came crashing down. 'Do what you can with what you have, and worry not.' The words rang in his head as if his father stood right behind him. Heavy hand on Are's shoulder and that slight squeeze that told him it'll all be alright.

As they walked his eyes took in the view. Like nothing he had ever seen before and in stark contrast to what he had left behind. Yet the land seemed hardy, greenery pushing back at the crumbly, rocky soil and managing to get by. If only just. He kept chewing his cheek and squinted at every detail that caught his eye. "You seem like hardy folk, living off of such soil. It brings me hope. I was too quick in judging this place, your home." he turned to Jigano and said, eyes nervously glancing at the creature on his shoulder.

"Maybe there's place for a cobbler, at least until..." he hesitated, no idea as to what he was exactly waiting for. Other than for Oden himself to take him back. "For the time being."

Ahhh, a head wound, then. That explained much, and the bard's exasperation dissipated even as it was replaced by concern. "Then it is a good thing that our Infirmary is next to our tavern," he said, keeping a closer eye on his companion in case Are showed signs of dizziness or other difficulty. Head wounds could be tricky things, and a concussion wasn't out of the picture, especially if he'd been in the middle of drowning when the portal opened beneath him. "I won't make you, if you don't want to, but I ask that you let the healers have a quick look at you to make sure that oar didn't do more than give you a bump." With luck that was all that had happened. For a man to go from being hit on the head to drowning to appearing in a new world between one water-filled breath and the next must indeed seem like the transition between life and death, and Jigano exhaled a slow breath as he tried to think of how to convince Are that he was still among the living.

It might be that time was the best solution, in the end. Letting the man see for himself how different Caido was from the underworld he expected, with his own eyes. No matter how eloquent he was, the bard had only words to offer, and no reason at all for the stranger to believe him. Still, no sooner had he reached that conclusion than Are spoke up again, and Jigano chuckled and gave a slight shake of his head.

"I think it will make more sense to you later," he tried again. "But I am not from this land. I have been here for, oh, almost two seasons now, but your respect does you credit. The people who are native to this world are, indeed, a hardy folk and worthy of admiration." He had made friends of many of the naturals, and found bright minds and souls among them the equal of any Outlander from a greener world. Some were as hidebound and petty as the worst he had known back home... but, again, the same could be said of some Outlanders he'd met as well.

"You're a tradesman, then?" the bard asked, interest sparking along with a bit of that respect he  had spoken of. "Those with a useful skill are very welcome! I'm sure a place can be found for you, or made for you." Maea's words from Long Night still stung a little with the reminder that, lofty as his ideals were, he provided neither food nor finished goods for his own services. "Do you do anything else, in addition to shoes?"

Are

Food, drink, a place by the fire, somewhere to rest your head, and now healers. By the moment things sounded more and more promising. Maybe death isn't all bad after all. A smile betrayed the flicker of hope that was alit in the man's heart again, a glimmer of that cheer that had carried him far enough into life. A flame that reached his eyes once Jigano mentioned his trade. Beyond what little family he had, now lost, the trade was of great pride to him. As it had been his father's, and his father's before him.

With a flick of his hand and a twist if his wrist he wringed the worst wetness out of his hat and replaced it on his slicked down curls. "I make it all, raw hides to finished boot, belt or bag." he said with new found gusto, voice stronger and with more spring in his step. "I might not be a master just yet, but a journeyman with enough mettle for two."

He snuck another look at the creature on Jigano's shoulder, something out of a fairytale indeed, but so was the whole countryside and the situation itself as well. Are's eyes flitted downwards momentarily as to avoid the suspicious gaze back from the gryphon and noticed the boots the scholar was wearing. Glad to have something else to occupy his mind he studied the work intently and started deconstructing the pieces in his head. Curiosity got the better of him sooner rather than later. "Those boots, fine pieces, who's the craftsman?" Are asked and pulled his eyes back to the road ahead, after all, it wasn't polite to stare.

"Ahhh I should put you in touch with Rory, then," Jigano nodded thoughtfully, and Isuma peeped happily at the name and the mental image that accompanied it through their bonded link. "He is a native of this place, and a fine hunter and leatherworker as well. He would know where to direct you for getting set up with tools, and perhaps one of the old workshops in the ruins that needs a bit of sprucing up, but could be made serviceable with a bit of time and work." And it least the work would be done in the warmth of Flowerbirth, rather than trying to fix walls and roofs in the cold snows of Deepfrost!

Isuma peered back at Are with bold interest, her snow-leopard tail waving behind her to help her balance as Jigano walked along. She reep?ed at him when he caught her eyes for a moment, then blinked in confusion when he looked away without reply. Didn't he know how the making-noises game went? He was supposed to make a noise back at her! Jigano chuckled at her consternation, reaching up to scratch at her ears in a soothing caress.

"The craftsman? I'm afraid I couldn't tell you," he said, a hint of regret in his voice. "On my world I was - well, I still am - a bard. A wandering scholar and entertainer, of sorts, among other things. These boots were once enchanted to fit any wearer and give them greater speed... but when I came through the portal between worlds all of my magical items were returned to, well 'normal.' So now they are simply a very well-crafted and sturdy pair of footwear. I bought them when I was passing through a city between one place and the next." No names had been exchanged, only gold. And quite a lot of gold, at that. But since the boots still fit and had remained neat and waterproof even without their magic, he supposed the original cobbler had indeed been a master of his craft.

Are

With the ruins of peering over the next hill, Are was relieved as even though the walk had kept him from freezing he could very well feel the bite of the winter's breath still on the wind. With the promise of honest work also on the horizon he could finally put to rest the worries and doubts. Dead or not, I will make a life for us. He nodded to himself, content and spirits lifted by the warm welcome.

Encouraged by the creature's seemingly bird-like curiosity, Are replied, a blackbird's call seemed fitting enough for the season. Affording a quick glance at the gryphon he smiled but kept his eyes on the top of the hill. "I look forward to meeting this person, if I'm to stay I might as well make myself useful." he said and could already smell that special something. A mix of grease, tanning and wood smoke that brought tears to other men for a whole 'nother reason than homesickness.

"A talented cobbler and völva? A true rarity, and a person to fear. he said and stroked his chin, never before had Are met someone capable of seidr, galdr and spá. Not that he hadn't heard the tales told by both his brothers and townfolk, but only in murmurs and whispers. He lowered his voice as it seemed fitting to do. "Say, you would not know of any völva in this place? Are asked, almost ashamed for his request.

The Settlement was not very impressive, perhaps, in the many dilapidated buildings and outright ruins across the Bone Bridge, but it had become familiar and reassuring all the same. Jigano tapped Isuma's beak lightly and bent as he walked to let her hop down and frolic in the grasses at Are's heels as he and the cobbler continued their conversation. Now that they had been properly introduced through his birdcall, Isuma was happier to give him the benefit of the doubt and a warmer welcome - in spite of his unfortunate wetness.

"An attitude that will get you far," Jigano praised, his grin a tad wry but mostly glad that Are was willing to fit in and work hard. After the difficulties and losses of Long Night they needed every able hand, and the man's trade would be in high demand as soon as he got himself on his feet. That was, the bard mused, the upside to thinking one was dead. There was no overwhelming desire to try and return back through a portal that only opened in one direction!

He raised a brow at the word "völva," giving his companion a questioning glance, but when Are only continued to use the word without context the bard's forehead furrowed and he gave a little shake of his head. "I'm sorry, Are, I'm unfamiliar with that word. I think our languages are just a little different... I'm guessing you mean a user of magic of some kind? But can you describe what a 'völva' is in more detail? There are magic users here, but the magic of this world is different than that of my world... and might be different from yours, as well."