Log Date: 1/28/96 Log Intro: There is sickness in the Trader Camp outside the Willowholt: Gerren, the Glider rockshaper who has been lifemate to Jasmael, Woodhawk's daughter, is possessed of a mysterious illness that seems to be causing his magic to turn and change him, rather than rock. And the sickness has spread, not only through the Traders, but into the Willowholt, much to the dismay of young Talek -- for the first in the Willowholt to have caught the illness is his mate Brightfire. As Brightfire has claimed she cannot heal herself, and as the other healers in the Holt are all gone, Talek turns to the trusted ancient treeshaper, Sweetleaf, who helped him and Brightfire fulfill their Recognition.... ---------- You locksend ** Sweetleaf! Old one, are you awake? Please answer! Please! ** to Sweetleaf. Sweetleaf locksends ** mycorrhiza, mycelia, rhizome....eh, yes, awake... ** Sweetleaf's Den(#5830RJ) Sweetleaf's den is a protected little nook, treeshaped into the highest fork of the willow's branches. Contents: blanket Obvious exits: Storeroom Out Storeroom A small, dome-roofed cranny, filled with the scents of damp earth and growing things. A little bit of starlight comes in from a ventilation shaft above, and a few of the plants add their own bit of foxfire light. Contents: Sweetleaf willowbark saltblossom Obvious exits: Den Sweetleaf looks at you. Talek comes clambering hastily into the den, silver eyes wide and worried, and looking frantically about. ** Sweetleaf, please... please come, Brightfire's ill, you must help her....! ** Sweetleaf is leaning against the wall, and looks up at Talek with wide eyes a little too bright. But he stands up swiftly enough, and takes your hand. "Ill? What ails her?" Talek's young face is drawn, as if he's been with his mate for hours and hasn't slept much at all. ** We don't _know_, ** he pleads, adding anxiously, ** and she says she can't heal herself... please, come...! ** He doesn't exactly tug the respected elder, but he comes close, as he turns to hasten out of the den. [Talek hastens with Sweetleaf to...] Trollkiller's old den(#8737RL) Trollkiller's old den is, these days, most often used as a playroom, or as a guest den for visitors who are particularly close to Rillwhisper, Woodhawk, or Trollkiller. It is filled wall to wall with soft furs, and kept from becoming stuffy by regular use. Lying atop one pile of furs is a small wooden statue is of a large, fat, and somehow canny-looking bullfrog, like those found near the Willowholt pond. It is coloured a dark green, with little spots. Contents: Brightfire A bunch of brightly coloured leaves Obvious exits: Rillwhisper, Woodhawk, and Trollkiller's Den Out to Willow Tree Centre Sweetleaf has arrived. Talek hastens into the den, his gaze immediately going to his lifemate. He himself is beside her in an instant, reaching to clasp her hand. ** Beloved? ** Brightfire is curled up on her side, tiredly, hair half obscuring her face and body; even her hair seems to have the odd golden glow about it. ** Talek, ** she sends, softly. Sweetleaf moves slowly towards the ailing elf and kneels down beside her. Talek swallows hard, looking deeply troubled and unnerved. He glances at Sweetleaf, as if hoping that the elder will immediately realize that something is amiss past Talek's own understanding, here. Talek sends lowly, ** I've brought Sweetleaf, beloved... he'll help you... ** Brightfire smiles wanely, pushing herself up into a sitting position, somewhat awkwardly. ** Thank you. ** Sweetleaf looks abstracted first, and then concerned. ** Poor little cub, ** he sends, ** tell me what's happened to you. ** His arm goes around Brightfire, helping to support her as she sits up. Talek bites his lip, observing, ** She's been this way... ever since after we saw the Glider in the Trader Camp.... he's ill, too.....! ** But something in the young elf's face, and something in the way he abruptly shudders, suggests there's something more to what he sends. Sweetleaf reaches over to touch Talek's shoulder, and says quietly aloud, "Tell me. Please." Brightfire, despite the illness, manages to look somewhat offended. ** Not a cub, ** she protests, and then willingly leans against Sweetleaf. ** Not just ill, ** she corrects Talek. ** The Glider was turning to -rock-. ** Brightfire's shudder echoes Talek's, and she reaches out a hand to him, looking for support. Talek takes Brightfire's nearer hand in both of his, and nods hastily to his mate's correction. ** He... his hand, it was grey, and it would not move.... it's Gerren, you know.... ** Sweetleaf sits back abruptly. ** To rock? Do you mean....Gerren....** he trails off, confused. ** Tell me about Gerren, then.** He looks closely at Brightfire's hands, then shakes his head. Brightfire nods. ** Rock, he was turning to rock. I tried healing him when they said he was sick, but -- I can't heal *rock*. He was afraid... ** She closes her eyes, trying to remember. ** And I couldn't help. ** Anxiously, Talek complies, sending briefly to note that he understands Gerren to be the mate of Jasmael -- she who was once called Brightmark, and who is Woodhawk's daughter, and Silversong's. Ironic and surprising, Talek considers it, that he should be here, when Jasmael has not yet returned from her quest to locate him.... ** And she... she won't know.... ** With that, Talek trails off. Sweetleaf nods, patiently. ** Woodhawk's cub, yes. Her lifemate. He was a rockshaper, wasn't he...? ** It is only half a question. Talek nods, very slowly, very worriedly. Brightfire nods. ** Aye... afraid he'd turn everyone into rock, he was... ** Sweetleaf half-smiles. ** Rillwhisper once thought I'd turned her into a mushroom, but it was only the mushroom's dream. ** Brightfire blinkblinks, then laughs silently, sound threading through a sending. ** But... Gerren's _hand_.... ** Talek goes paler again, paler than usual. Sweetleaf nods, reluctantly. ** Has he always worried so, or only since he's been sick? ** Brightfire looks helplessly at Talek. ** I'd never met him before...? ** Talek blinkblinkblinks, and allows, ** I... do not know... all we know is that the Traders came... and Gerren was with them! I don't think he's ever been here... ** Brightfire lets her eyes close as Talek sends, shifting a little, wearily. Sweetleaf cocks his head to once side. ** Are any of the traders sick as well? ** He pauses, to stroke Brightfire's hair from her eyes, and then goes on slowly, ** are any among them healers, or shapers? ** Brightfire sends openly ** I don't ... know ... ** Talek blinks at Brightfire. ** You said someone... Dizzy? You asked if she was with them, from Briarholt....** Brightfire's eyes open again. ** Dizzy. Dreamsent. She's a healer, but I don't think she was sick. The singer didn't say she was. ** Suddenly, almost a protest, ** I can .feel. .everything.! ** Talek leans closer to Brightfire, worriedly, and as if afraid his hands on hers might somehow be causing pain, he grimaces. Sweetleaf hugs Brightfire, reassuringly, and sends, ** Rest, little one. I do not know yet how to heal you, but I will brew you an herb to soothe that sensing. ** Brightfire smiles somewhat. ** Your teas are magic, Sweetleaf... thank you... ** Sweetleaf sends openly, ** Talek, keep her quiet; I must go and hunt....** He rises, slowly, showing his age a little. ** Magic, Brightfire, yes. Rest now, and I will bring you some. ** Brightfire nods, slipping back down to lie against the furs. ** Yes, healer. ** Somewhat consoled, Talek smiles weakly to Sweetleaf, and nods obediently to him. Sweetleaf has left. Sweetleaf has arrived. Sweetleaf comes in carrying a shallow wooden bowl, with steam rising over its lip. [And with that, Sweetleaf administers the tea to Brightfire, who accepts it weakly before slipping into a doze at her lifemate's side. In the meantime, concerned about Gerren, the old treeshaper slips off to find him... but Sweetleaf is not the only one in search of the Glider, either. (Log now switches to Gerren's point of view.....)] You sense in a locksend to Reedsnap, True, Gerren: Jasmael's thoughts come in a vague, distant sending. ** Gerren! Can you hearme? ** she sends, desperation clear in her mindvoice, as well as the uncertain fear that he might not even be in range. You locksend ** ** to Jasmael. You sense in a locksend to Reedsnap, True, Gerren: Jasmael pauses for a moment, as if hearing something, and then calls again ** Gerren! ** You sense in a locksend to Reedsnap, True, Gerren: Jasmael's mindvoice carries her relief. ** Yes! Keep sending, I think I'm close! ** You locksend ** Jas.... ma.... el....? ** to Jasmael. True locksends, to Jasmael, Reedsnap, Gerren: ** *Whossat?* ** Jasmael locksends ** Gerren! Yes, it's me!! ** You locksend ** You.... live.... ** to Jasmael. You sense in a locksend, Jasmael's mindvoice can be sensed, getting closer. ** I'm coming! ** You locksend ** ** to Jasmael. You sense in a locksend, Jasmael's sending touches your mind again, inquiring, trying to follow where you are. But there is a distinct sense of worry to it. Jasmael steps into the tent. Jasmael steps quietly out of the camp. Jasmael has arrived. Jasmael pushes past the opening of the tent, rushing in. ** Gerren?? ** Gerren lies unmoving under a pile of furs, pale and grey-seeming in the shadows of the tent. He doesn't twitch, save for the smallest blink of an eye, at Jasmael's arrival. Jasmael's eyes widen as she sees you, going over anything and everything in her way as she hurries up to your side. ** Gerren...? ** What in the name of the High Ones has happened to him? He seems... wrong, far too pale, almost as he did when he stood in trance behind Winnowill's throne in Blue Mountain, shaping. Only his eyes move a little, slowly, to find you with their gaze. Jasmael kneels down beside you on the furs, her hand moving to touch the side of your face in worry. ** Gerren... what's happened to you... ** His skin is.... cold. Rough. He sends, with an effort, a single syllable: ** Sick... ** Reedsnap steps into the tent. Reedsnap steps quietly out of the camp. Reedsnap has arrived. Sweetleaf steps into the tent. Sweetleaf steps quietly out of the camp. Sweetleaf has arrived. True steps into the tent. True steps quietly out of the camp. True has arrived. Reedsnap ducks nervously inside. "Gerren? I've brought... someone..." Reedsnap tugs Sweetleaf inside and lets go of the elder's hand. True slips inside, watching from the entrance. Sweetleaf moves quickly to the ailing elf's side. "Gerren...?" Jasmael is kneeling on the furs beside Gerren, her hand on his cheek. She pulls it back in surprise, and shock. ** Gerren... ** Reedsnap's hands twist around each other as he looks on. Jasmael turns to look back at the others entering. ** Where's mother?? If he's sick, why's she not healed him yet? ** Gerren lies huddled under the furs in which the traders have bundled him, lying motionlessly. Only his eyes seem to move at all, as his gaze shifts, with immense slowness, from face to face. In the shadows of the tent, his skin seems unnaturally grey. A fragment of sending, like a pebble breaking off a cliffside, cracking off: ** Sick... ** Reedsnap holds out his hands in supplication. His mild voice is nervous, and desperately unhappy. "Jasmael. She-- she did. She tried." Sweetleaf looks at Jasmael, and says softly, "Someone has tried to heal him, cub; now she's ill as well." Jasmael shakes her head at that. ** Mother could... where's mother? ** she sends, her mindvoice demanding. From Gerren, a slightly larger pebble of sending, faster, as if that pebble tumbles down a hill: ** Rock? ** Reedsnap looks helplessly at Sweetleaf. "She-- I don't know. She fled, that's all. No one's told me anything else." Sweetleaf eyes Jasmael steadily for a moment, then drops his eyes. "I do not know if any magic might heal this." He turns to Gerren, and says to him quietly, "Tell me, do you think you could swallow some tea?" Jasmael turns back towards Gerren, pulling away the furs to take his hand in her own. ** No... he's got to get better... I've been searching for him for too long.. * Gerren's blue eyes, oddly and deeply blue in his grey face, flicker uncertainly to Sweetleaf. As Jasmael takes his hand, and it comes into view from under the furs, it, too, is grey... and it seems somehow _wrong_ to the sight. Sweetleaf's eyes cloud at Jasmael's words, and he sighs. ** I'm sure he's trying, cub. ** Reedsnap says quietly, unhappily, "We've done our best. We hurried... But nothing's worked. It's like his magic is... eating him." His gentle face is blanched pale. Sweetleaf turns to Gerren again. He is holding a shallow bowl filled with a steaming, fragrant, tawny liquid; he beckons to it, and asks again, "Do you think you can drink a little of this?" Sweetleaf nods, absently, at Reedsnap's comment. Jasmael squeezes at Gerren's hand, gazing at her lifemate. ** This is wrong... it's so... -wrong-. ** True chews on her thumb as she watches. ** Can't. Move. ** The broken, jerky sending is timid; Gerren's gaze, flicking to Jasmael, holds profound apology. Reedsnap goes to the cubling's side, slipping an arm around delicate shoulders. Jasmael senses "Gerren's hand in yours is cold, cold as his face is, and unnervingly... heavy, for the hand of a slender Glider. Two of his fingers are pressed together, and remain thus; none of his fingers move at all, in your grasp." True leans against Reedsnap, eyes wide with uncertainty as she gazes at the sick rockshaper. You locksend ** So. Sorry. .......... Looked..... long......... daughter. ** to Jasmael. Sweetleaf nods. "All right, then." He moves closer to Gerren, looks first at him, then at Jasmael. "May I try to wet your mouth with it, a little? It won't heal you," he says bluntly, but continues, "but it may make the magic feeling a little easier to bear." Reedsnap bends to murmur to the child. True rubs at her nose, snuffling. For long moments, Gerren seems unaware of Sweetleaf's offer, as his gaze lingers on Jasmael. Then, slowly, his attention begins to slide back to the unfamiliar elf leaning over him. Sweetleaf waits patiently; he looks somehow as though he has waited at deathbeds many times before. Jasmael shakes her head, her expression one of denial. ** No... Gerren, don't leave me again... ** Lynx steps into the tent. Lynx steps quietly out of the camp. Lynx has arrived. Lynx bursts into the tent, his gaunt chest heaving, eyes wild under tumbled hair. "Papa! Is a-- healer here?" Reedsnap goes to the boy, quickly, looking apologetically over his shoulder at Sweetleaf and the others. "Hush, cub. Easy." You locksend ** So...... sorry..... beloved..... saw..... daughter..... had...... to...... find...... ** to Jasmael. True jumps, startled at the sudden arrival of Lynx. Sweetleaf looks up at the lad. "No, I am not really a healer, but I brought some herbs that might soothe his pain." He looks back at Gerren again, enquiringly. Lynx twists weakly from Reedsnap's gentle embrace, throwing himself on his knees next to Sweetleaf. "You have to help him. Have to-- fix him!" His normally soft voice is raised, on the knife edge of panic. "Have to fix me! Don't -want- to turn to stone!" Lynx Lynx is an elf lad of perhaps 12 turns or so... it's hard to tell his age, because while he's always been small and slender, now he is positively gaunt and frail. The usual serious look in his flecked sea-foam eyes has been replaced with a haunted fearfulness. His auburn curls tumble lankly down around his tapered ears and stray into his eyes. He wears old, shabby dark-blue silks he's obviously long since grown out of-- the breeches end raggedly just above his knees, and the tunic's sleeves have been cut off at the shoulders. He goes barefoot, with a strange, hesitant, almost painful timidity. Around one bony, delicate wrist is a woven bracelet, and two keepsakes hang around his neck on a soft leather thong: a white feather entwined with a lock of golden hair (from Dove) and a small, bright red feather (from Chaser). Carrying: hair bracelet True pads a few steps away from where Lynx is, closer to the edge of the tent wall as she stares wide-eyed at Lynx. Jasmael tries to lift Gerren's hand to her face, completely missing any remarks about her daughter. ** Don't leave... ** she sends again, pleading. Gerren's arm being quite immobile though, makes this impossible. Sweetleaf turns to gaze directly at the cub. "Are you a rock shaper? have you begun to be ill?" Reedsnap comes up behind Lynx, leaning down to put his hands on the bony shoulders. "Cubling. Please... please. This isn't helping..." Gerren stares up at Sweetleaf blankly for some time, before looking again, slowly, to Jasmael. Something slowly begins to change in his face.... the blue of his eyes, fading. Lynx looks earnestly at Sweetleaf. "I'm no shaper... But I'm sick. Something's wrong." Sweetleaf shushes Reedsnap with a gesture; "...is this little one ill as well?" Reedsnap falls silent, blushing crimson. You locksend, to Jasmael, Sweetleaf: ** Help... child. Find......... child. Love. ** Lynx glances over at little True. "Her, you mean?" Jasmael looks at Gerren with some confusion. ** Child...? ** she sends, not understanding. Jasmael leans closer to Gerren, gazing down into his eyes. True snuffles, looking at Sweetleaf and then back to Gerren, then to Jasmael. There comes around Gerren an uneasy flicker of something that should have been blue-white, and he seems to go greyer. His gaze, all the while, is fixed on Jasmael. Sweetleaf bends down towards Gerren, and says aloud, "I will. I will help all I can, Gerren." You locksend ** Saw.................... daughter..................... Saw............. ** to Jasmael. Reedsnap slips his arms more tightly about his son from behind, nestling his face desparingly in the hollow of Lynx's neck. Lynx looks from Sweetleaf to Gerren, sick hopelessness in his delicate features. "Oh..." he breathes, barely a whisper. True blinks at a send, then turns to stare at Gerren wide-eyed. Jasmael blinks, her eyes widening. ** But... ** she begins to protest. Again, there comes a flicker of that watery light about the prone form. But he does not twitch, as he had in earlier days; this time, as it fades, he seems to have..... changed. Solidified. You locksend ** Daughter................. love..................... daughter..................... love..................... you................... ** to Jasmael. Sweetleaf turns back to Lynx, and says softly to him, "drink this..." gesturing at the bowl of tea. Lynx obediently reaches for the bowl. His small hands are clumsy, but he lifts the tea to his lips... His eyes peer over the rim of the bowl, fixed on Gerren. You locksend ** ** to Jasmael. Jasmael straightens up, looking down at Gerren with a sense of panic in her eyes. ** Gerren! GERREN! ** she sends, desperate now. ** Please, don't leave me! ** True locksends ** *You gonna go to the palace?* ** True blinkblinkblinks, looking up at Jasmael. Lynx sips, hesitantly at first, but then more deeply, despite apparent flinches on his face as he does so. His pupils have constricted to pin-points as he watches Gerren, seeing in his mind his own eventual end. You sense in a locksend, Jasmael's mind calls out to that part, not wishing to let you go, now that she's finally found you again. The hurt of it is obvious in her mind. ** Gerren... Please... ** He does not move. He does not, anymore, even blink.... save one last time, as his lids fall shut over eyes turned entirely grey. One more sliding flicker of light...... and he is still. Reedsnap's hands stroke softly along Lynx's upper arms as he lifts his tousled head to look sorrowfully at Jasmael and Gerren. "Jasmael, I... I'm so..." Words fail him. True's eyes go _wide_ as she stares down at Gerren, wondering if she can spot his spirit as it leaves his body. You locksend ** Elon................ ** to Jasmael. Lynx stiffens, and his mouth opens, although he makes no sound. He drops the bowl to the ground, unheeding, and fine brows draw together over flecked sea-foam eyes. Sweetleaf looks very old, and very sad. Softly, almost in a whisper, he howls. True sends fuzzily, filled with curiosity and awe, *Is he gone to the palace already?* Jasmael sits kneeling beside Gerren for a long moment after his eyes close, not seeming to hear anything or anyone around her. True blinks in suprise at Sweetleaf as he starts to howl...she takes a cautious step back. You sense in a locksend, Jasmael returns that flash with one of her own, longing, with her love. ** Elon... Liye. ** Jasmael slowly collapses over Gerren's form, tears flowing openly now in sadness. ** Gerren... ** [End log.]