Weaver's tone echoed Jigano's thoughts on the matter perfectly, and it was enough to leave it at that. The Blight was another tale entirely, though one that was linked through the Voice's habit of abandoning projects that no longer suited her and leaving others to clean up the mess after. A comparison the bard might make of Sunjata, were he feeling uncharitable. Weaver's point earned a dip of his head in acknowledgment however, and a moment of thought. "And yet, she was able to, once non-Ascended had paid a price in health and life to it, the Greatwood weakened, and the Old Gods forced to step in. Or at least, so she sent her children to proclaim on the Notice Board of Sanctuary. Even so, the evasions and the denials leading up to the eventual admission that it was her handiwork did not exactly engender goodwill when the truth finally came out." He grimaced and gave a light shrug. "Whether she was lying to make herself seem more powerful and try to garner back some goodwill after the fact or not, I don't know."
The Fae were notoriously close-lipped and Jigano grinned ruefully at Weaver's finely-honed point. "Ah well, it depends on who you speak to, I suppose. Some are certainly friendlier than others!" Which could be said of any race or region on Caido.
Hearing that Sunjata had never intended to stay earned a raised brow, a flicker of calculation in the bard's blue eyes. "I see," he murmured politely. And he did. He had known of the Guild when it had a different master, and when Sunjata had taken his place that had been communicated as well. Whether those ties still stood given how strained things had become between guildmasters, however, was uncertain, but the building of bases across the different regions, faced and linnked with names in a distinctly alien tongue, was not exactly subtle.
"What plans do you have for the future, Mistress of the Kraai?" he asked instead, tone light. "Do you see yourself still serving ale and wine and handing over your profits to a Torchline government official ten years from now?"
The Fae were notoriously close-lipped and Jigano grinned ruefully at Weaver's finely-honed point. "Ah well, it depends on who you speak to, I suppose. Some are certainly friendlier than others!" Which could be said of any race or region on Caido.
Hearing that Sunjata had never intended to stay earned a raised brow, a flicker of calculation in the bard's blue eyes. "I see," he murmured politely. And he did. He had known of the Guild when it had a different master, and when Sunjata had taken his place that had been communicated as well. Whether those ties still stood given how strained things had become between guildmasters, however, was uncertain, but the building of bases across the different regions, faced and linnked with names in a distinctly alien tongue, was not exactly subtle.
"What plans do you have for the future, Mistress of the Kraai?" he asked instead, tone light. "Do you see yourself still serving ale and wine and handing over your profits to a Torchline government official ten years from now?"
