Log Date: April 1994 (Approximately) Log Cast: TallWalker, Mender, Shayilbey Log Intro: This is an extremely old Mender log, dating from when Natil used to play him. The scene here is Mender doing healing work on TallWalker's memory, which leads him to have a confrontation with Shayilbey. ---------- Visiting room of Mender's house(#3986R) With two small windows positioned to the east and to the west, this circular chamber is airy at any time of the day with the breezes that wander through and lightly rattle the strings of beads that hang there. The adobe walls are lightly carved and tinted to give an overall impression of a forest glade, albeit in dusty desert hues. Contents: Cushioned couch(#5631ae) Obvious exits: Stairs Out TallWalker climbs up out of the sleeping pit. TallWalker has arrived. TallWalker nods a bit and rubs his eyes. "Um...hello..." Mender smiles, looking up from drinking from a jar of water. "Good evening! You've slept a while, friend." TallWalker nods. "I haven't slept in quite some time, I guess. I was afraid to sleep in the desert." TallWalker shifts his weight from foot to foot. TallWalker says "I want to thank you for letting me stay here..." TallWalker blushes faintly and looks at his boots. Mender grins to you, and clasps one of your shoulders in his lean brown hand. "You did that last night, as you dozed off, and I'll say what I did then: you're welcome. In the meantime, are you feeling better?" TallWalker nods. "It's so safe and kind here." TallWalker sighs and lets himself relax. Mender beams. "Aye, Sorrow's End is that!" He offers the jar of water. "You must still be thirsty, you looked parched as the sand itself when you stumbled in here. Have some water." TallWalker takes the jar and drinks steadily with a thirst he was afraid to sate before for sake of his stomach, and looks up after swallowing. "Thank you. Again." He smiles shyly. Mender is a golden picture of cheerfulness as he tells you teasingly, "And you're welcome. Again. Tending's what we healers are for, after all." TallWalker grins and blushes again, looking at his boots. "Well. Um, yes, I guess so. Um...what do you think I should do...next?" You say "Well, if your thirst and hunger and your need for rest are satisfied, it is quite up to you, friend... you can try to get your bearings in our little village here, or, we can talk if you like. Nobody's called for my magic today, so I've got time on my hands." TallWalker smiles. "Well...I did enough talking last night, I suspect...but I'm a bit afraid--leery that the other--she who argued with you--is still there. I don't know." Mender shrugs, airily. "If she's still in the village, we'll deal with that as we need to; she certainly isn't coming into my house without asking!" He smiles again, and adds, "Well, we can try to work on your problem, then, if you wish it." TallWalker nods. "I don't like being afraid and not knowing why...when you want to...if you want to...I'm ready for at least that much." Mender inclines his head. "I've been ready and waiting all day, friend...!" He lowers his lean frame to the cushioned couch in the middle of the floor. "Let's get comfortable, this might take a while." Cushioned couch(#5631ae) This is a wide, shallow depression in the floor of the hut, filled with soft, light blankets and random pillows, of assorted dusty shades of purple, green, and blue. The circular rim of the pit is worked in delicately carved sandstone of a yellow-brown hue, smooth and wide enough to sit on. Here, Mender often works healings, or simply lets guests sit and relax. You climb down into the sleeping pit. TallWalker climbs down into the sleeping pit. TallWalker has arrived. TallWalker settles in the pit and looks oddly nervous. "This seems familiar, the way it's sunk into the floor, somehow." Mender tilts his head, and hands you a few pillows, to recline upon. "Indeed? Well, perhaps we can start with that... what does it make you think of?" TallWalker looks up at the ceiling, leaning against some pillows. "Um...well...it's just...similar...like i remember being somewhere like it before, a long time ago, in some kind of haze." Mender unobtrusively settles you so that you lie comfortably on your back, and sits cross-legged beside you, grey eyes going forthright and business-like as he listens. "All things in life are interconnected," he tells you, "like a web... perhaps that is how we can seek to return you what you're missing. You've lost those connections in your memory." TallWalker nods a bit, curiously. TallWalker looks up at the ceiling from where he lies. "Um...what shall I do...?" Mender lays a hand on your forehead, and a pale golden glow, like a hint of a sunrise, lights around his fingers. "Think about the familiarity of a sunken place in the floor... let's see what connections we can get, to that." TallWalker hmms softly to himself. You locksend to TallWalker, Mender in sending offers you a hand, too; a sense of invitation to explore something jointly, for him to observe while you ponder... From TallWalker's mind, unbidden by him, come a set of images that do not amout to so much as a sending, for any conscious effort he makes to put them forth is somehow immediately reined back joltingly by his own power, again, unbidden. The dominant image is one of a safehold, a bed sunk into and partially beneath the floor, and a sensation of childness, of being cared for; it almost immediately turns over upon itself and becomes an image of fear, huddling in the corner of that bed, waiting for something unpleasant to happen. He shudders almost imperceptibly as the images pass. Mender frowns thoughtfully, as the flow of your thoughts gives him a pointer on how to direct his magic. He sends back to you, concrete images of safety in the here-and-now, his own hut... that nothing here can harm, without coming through _him_ first. ** Stick with the place, for now, and not what happened there, ** he suggests quietly. You locksend to TallWalker, Mender attempts to mute the 'fearfulness' that he senses, gently trying to nudge the wisps of memory to focus only on the recollected place... its shape, its color, any other physical details that a mind's eye might catch. TallWalker nods a bit, physically, and tries to set a few images out, but again they are drawn back. Present within his mind they remain, however, for the healer to see in sending. The bed is in a room filled with...cloths. Cloths decorated with scenes in the concrete and abstract, colors sparkling in a dim, phosphorescent light. A thin, delicate sword rests in a stand by a door. Mender's brown-blond eyebrows knit a bit, as his sending inquires: bright colors? or soft ones? What makes the light...? TallWalker nods a bit more as the scene clears. The colors vary...around the bed they are muted, soft, but here and there and on the opposite walls, the cloths...tapestries, really, obviously woven with a caring hand, are bright and breathtaking to look upon. There are images of elves in repose, in fight or craft, illustrated tales and abstract images meant to reflect this person or that...there is a stand by the bed, covered in growing things, mosses and fungi, and the light, soft and green, flows from them. Mender blinkblinks - green growing things that make _light_? - but he pauses for only a moment. Nodding to himself, he asks you gently, ** You know this place, don't you? Restore that connection... ** The light around his fingertips ripples a bit.... You locksend to Mender, Mender's magic ripples, too, in your thoughts, as he looks for the place where a strand of memory can be reformed... and he shows it to you, hanging back a bit, as he offers to let _you_ make the connection while he supplies the power. You sense in a locksend, Mender's magic ripples, too, in your thoughts, as he looks for the place where a strand of memory can be reformed... and he shows it to you, hanging back a bit, as he offers to let _you_ make the connection while he supplies the power. You locksend to TallWalker, Mender's magic ripples, too, in your thoughts, as he looks for the place where a strand of memory can be reformed... and he shows it to you, hanging back a bit, as he offers to let _you_ make the connection while he supplies the power. Mender murmurs softly to himself, "This will take some doing, indeed... " Concentration creases his brow as he explores this, taking his time, at the unfamiliar work... not wishing to have to undo something later should he err. TallWalker shrinks back a bit and physically curls up into the fetal position in which he slept. Within his mind the image turns around dizzyingly and one tapestry among the rest comes off the wall, disappearing. Its place is covered by others immediately. TallWalker makes an effort to stabilize himself and looks again, trying to push an image forth, and the pain of his mind pulling simutaneously back seems to clear his head a bit, and the room he sees restabilizes. Figures float, spiritlike, from the door, around the room, toward the bed, and meet a dark figure there, who takes them into that bed sometimes, and sometimes not...none of them stay. The image starts to spin again, but in an organized manner. As the view of the room winds from one side to the other, the focus fixes on the stand by the door--where the thin sword no longer rests--to the door itself, and back to the present wraithlike figure, whom TallWalker seems afraid to see. Mender blinkblinks, rather startled as your mind's eye whirls... but, gritting his teeth obstinately, he first meets the sensations of _pain_. Again sending, ** Focus just on the place, now, friend, ** he strives to fill your mind with quiet warmth. Cautiously, he seeks now to establish a link on his own, but a partial one, one that will let you at least remember this single without retreating in fear, if not the figures within in. TallWalker nods within his curled form. The image stills again and the focus remains from stand, empty, where the sword is no more, and turns again to the door. The desire seems to be for the sword to be back, for its owner, whom it represents, to be present, but its owner has not been seen. The other desire present is escape of a kind, a hopeless kind of escape; running from one that will catch you, but you have to run anyway, even knowing. TallWalker in the here and now watches almost clinically, allowing the images to settle alone in his mind, sensing that Mender can see them without him pushing them...but the TallWalker in the vision, the mind's eye, is desperate and hopless and afraid and...feels, in addition to all that, a deep love, a pity--child's pity, born of no answers to "why." Mender murmurs, "By my grandsire's whiskers...!" He changes tactics for a moment, simply sending gentle golden support; one brown hand still touches your forehead, the other clasps your shoulders. Aware of the division of perspectives in your thoughts, he nevertheless tries to encompass both the now-TallWalker and the then-TallWalker within his magic. ** There... good. Just let that settle, for a bit... don't push it, friend... ** TallWalker nods and lets the images come into his mind. At last the then-perspective gives up on the empty stand, the missing sword, and leaves through the heavy door. Outside, the vision fogs again, memory failing...it is a think, dark passage, a tunnel that winds and turns. Mender's forehead sheens over slightly in sweat... this is a magic new to him, this mind-healing. But he proceeds, keeping the physical touch as well as the magical one steady, following the flow of your thoughts to see where they settle next. The images settle a bit. The tunnel is silent and cool, damp of air, and there is the distinct impression of being uncomfortably alone there. There is an entrance, marked by dim light, at one end...and at the end where TallWalker stands, there are three doors, one from which he just came. You sense in a locksend, Shayilbey is nearly hysterical. **You have touched him. I know he fears me. That is wise. That is reaction to action. It is the way of growing things. Help me. Let me help him. It is my way. It is my kind of healing. Let me help...** Her sending is earnest and full of emotion, without the least trace of amusement or smile. Mender's eyes glitter sympathetically at the discomfort of bare, dark stone... "I'd rather have trees, myself...!" you hear him murmur.... and then, suddenly, he pauses. The image turns about. One door has vines carved into its stone surface; from that door, he has just come. Another is draped with a fur, and the third almost slip[s out of his view...but he focuses obstinately on it. The impression is one of safeness...if stark hatred and unpleasantness. The third door has vines on it also; but they are carved of bone. You locksend to Shayilbey, Mender frowns at the unexpected contact... there is a small tiredness about him, as if you've just distracted him from difficult work. He gives you an acknowledge of the sending, before briefly swinging his attention away, again.... Mender pulls in a sigh... and, with as gentle a 'nudge' as he can manage, he directs your attention to 'now'. ** TallWalker... friend... I must ask you something. Listen to me...? ** You sense in a locksend, Shayilbey scrabbles, claws at the briefest contact, desperately. **PLEASE! Let me help...let me help me...help me. Help him...** she fades into incomprehension, hysterical. TallWalker nods and slowly blinks a bit, opening his eyes. "I...yes?" TallWalker blinks again, solidifying Now and the hut and the pillows and Mender in his mind. Mender flicks a stern grey glance outside, before looking at you levelly. ** There's one outside who is begging to come in here, ** he informs you. ** She's asking me to let her help me help _you_.** Mender, still frowning, adds, ** It's that one you told me you were scared of. I'm not letting her in here if you tell me not to. What do you want me to tell her? ** TallWalker nods a bit, unsure. "Um...I don't know...I...could she help...I...would she have to...touch me?" Mender admits, ** I don't know... she says she's a healer, and all the healers _I_ know usually need to touch you to do their work. Her thoughts are frantic, though. She feels upset. ** TallWalker blushes and looks at his boots. "I'm sorry I'm so much trouble..seems to be trouble follows everywhere I go. Maybe it would help her...to be near you? You're calming..." He blushes a bit deeper. Mender promises, ** I'll do what I can, to help you, if you get upset. But it's up to you, friend... shall I allow her to enter? ** TallWalker nods, slowly, contemplating. "I...think maybe we should." Mender nods levelly, then, and flicks a glance outside.... TallWalker sighs, trying to relax, and uncurls self-consciously. You locksend ** TallWalker