Closed Cloudy Skies [Beodan]

[Nira'lia]

5th Summer 515 AV The Bronze Woods, just slightly North of Syliras It was never a good idea to stray too far from the city, which was why while Nira’lia had decided to look for some basic herbs in the forests outside Syliras, she decided to do so in a way that she could still see a glimpse of the city’s walls. She had gone North, and she knew that the Bronze Watchtower was up ahead. The Konti took the clearer paths, the ones where the paths weren’t completely shaded by a multitude of trees. It was late afternoon and the skies were cloudy, and once in a while she would lean down to examine plants that might be of help to her. So far, she hadn’t been too lucky. She had a few healthy stalks of lemongrass which she hoped she could make into tea, or perhaps she could make a simple tincture out of. Nira’lia would have to research further. The Konti kneeled down and continued to take more stalks as she saw a good batch of it near the base of an oak tree. The soil was damp and dirtied her clothes slightly, but she didn’t care much about that. All she could think of at the moment was what she could do with these stalks. She only had a handful so far as she was picky enough to only take the greenest ones, though she was optimistic enough (perhaps naively) that she could do something useful with these. “Oh…” It had started to drizzle, and Nira’lia looked up at the skies with a frown. She didn’t know much about telling the weather and thought it was just a cloudy day. The Konti had no idea they were rain clouds. The drizzle came upon her skin coolly and she set aside the few stalks of lemongrass she had gathered into her bag. Nira’lia stood up and looked around hastily, wondering if the rain was going to get any stronger, and if the trees were going to be able to provide her enough shelter.

[Beodan Clathony]

The day was cool, especially among the trees where what little sun shone through the clouds was filtered by the canopy. It looked like rain would be upon the land soon enough, the clouds had dark underbellies. The Horse Kelvic had been searching for herbs for the entire day, taking advantage of the temporary spell of decent conditions to venture further into the Bronze Woods. A gaze of brown swept the surrounding area as he slowly made his way to the North, seeing if anything would break the monotony of common trees and weeds. He had on a small pack, containing a few choice tools he would use to harvest anything he found. Flowers were budding and leaves were a bright green of new growth. The spring rain had breathed new life into the woods as it did every year.

Ah, there! The flash of a pink bud on the top of a long stock caught his eye. He approached it to see if it was something harvestable. Vines covered a small patch of ground around the cluster of stocks, jagged edged leaves covered the plant. The petals of the flower were just starting to unfold, a reddish pink peeking through a wrapping of green. Dan plucked a leaf and brought it closer to his face, giving it a scrutinizing look and a cursory sniff. Yes, the was indeed a Belltor plant. Luckily this plant was not too big, or he would be digging up the roots for hours. As it was, he worked at the soil with a small trowel from his kit for a fair few chimes.

At last, his labor was rewarded with a the mass of vines and roots, half coated in dirt. He squinted and gave it a sharp shake to toss off some of the excess earth, and then looped it through his bag’s straps so it hung off down his back. He wiped his brow and looked at the sky, it was probably already late in the afternoon. This was certainly enough of a haul to justify going back and taking care of it. A drop landed on his shoulder, and he looked about. Another on the top of his head, to which he turned to the skies questioningly. Rain, of course it would rain. He could still dry the plant inside his tent, but it would take ages if it got soaked.

Beodan ran through the forest back the way he had come, not wanting to catch sickness from getting chilled to the bone by the cold shower. The Belltor plant rustled with each step. His eyes were on his feet, watching for roots that sought to trip him. Which was why he was unable to stop when a woman’s form appeared before him.

[Nira'lia]

BAM! Nira’lia had heard the sounds of rushing footsteps. She turned her head to catch a glimpse of a man before said man crashed against her. As if that wasn’t enough, in the split second that they hit each other, a scene unfolded into a vision. Uncontrollably, she witnessed the man’s most joyful moment. The vision was gone instantly and she was bolted back to the present. With a shriek, the Konti fell on the ground, her side crashing to the dirt ground painfully. Mud stuck to her clothes and skin, and the rocks and pebbles stung—this was going to bruise. Suddenly, she panicked, a sense of paranoia overcoming her. Who was this man and why was he attacking her!? “Get away!” she screamed, instinctively kicking at him and scrambling to what she thought was a safe distance. The Konti twisted away, still on her hands and knees, to about two feet away from him. Dirt and leaves stuck awkwardly to her hair and with an audible groan, she realized they had crumpled the grass she had been holding. The stalks were now carelessly thrown about, lost and useless in the accident. Nira’lia got a better view of him now. It was a young man. Just a young man. He was well built, but for some reason she had been expecting someone who looked more formidable, perhaps a criminal-looking person who was out to kidnap a Kont. Nevertheless, the paranoia stayed. She was naïve and gullible, but being alone in the forest scared even her and made her suspicious. “I don’t have anything you can steal…!” It was still drizzling and hadn’t yet turned into a downpour, though soon it might turn into a deafening thunderstorm. She couldn’t really tell. Secret : Nira’lia has the ability to see vision of a person’s happiest moment upon touching them. Considering they crashed, I’m assuming that happened, hehe. You can describe what she saw in your post if you want, though Beodan won’t know she saw something.

[Beodan Clathony]

Secret :

VISION: A young Beodan came to, lying on a thatched cot. Lines of red crisscrossed his back, slowly oozing half-clotted, red ichor. He gasped as a warm draft from the fire blew across him, darkness surged at the edges of his vision, threatening to pull him back to the void once more. Pain defined his existence. There was nothing else. His world stopped at the bound of his skin. “Ah, so you are awake. Though I do not think that is a good thing for you, is it dear? Lets see here...” an old woman’s voice spoke softly, like the cracked and comfortable leather of an old saddle. A hiss escaped him as he felt something warm and damp press against the top of his back. Immediately, the pain in that area abated somewhat. The blissful---whatever it was, he didn't really care so long as it did not hurt--- substance was spread to cover his whole back. Tears leaked out of his eyes, the dull pain was practically heaven in comparison to what it had been. A hand stroked his brown locks, “There there. You are going to be alright, young one. Sleep beckons you, when you wake, you shall be well.” He shuddered, never having had this sort of loving touch before. He soon left to the void once more. And he felt so feverishly, deliriously...happy? A more powerful emotion he had never experienced in all his short life.

Dan’s momentum carried his body over the woman and he landed in a heap on the ground, mud and twigs smearing onto his chin and arms. He grunted as something hard impacted his leg while a shout rang out, and later he would discover a heel shaped bruise on his thigh. He spat out some dirt, and climbed onto his feet, finding his balance gingerly before standing tall. He examined his palms and found a few scratches, but no blood. It would heal readily, though salt might make it sting badly. Remembering that he may have injured someone, he turned to face the woman. She had very light blond hair, and a young face. She was probably only a few years older than him! His eyes moved down from her face, and froze on rows of white scales. He snorted in fear and suspicion, normal people did not have scales!

The Snake-skinned-one stood a horse length away from him, staring at him as if he was a ghost come to haunt her. He smiled tentatively, nervous that she might try to bite him or something. When the acknowledged the thought, it was silly to imagine this girl a head and a half shorter than her trying to inject him with venom; she did not look the type! Though, the scales still made a chill run down his spine.

“I don’t have anything you can steal…!” the girl exclaimed, and the Horse Kelvic cocked his head to the right. What was she saying? Why would he want to steal from her? Why would he steal ever? Nature shared everything she had, and he did not need anything more than her gifts. The rain made streaks of runny mud flow off of his face and soak into his shirt, which was growing wetter with each chime. “I am sorry, miss! I mean no harm, I was just trying to get out of the rain is all, and I guess I was not watching my way!” he explained quickly to the girl, gesturing wildly as he illustrated his running collision with her. He had said it all in one breath in his nervous state. He took a long breath in and asked more calmly, “So, uh, what are you doing in the woods all alone in the rain, miss?”

[Nira'lia]

He looked nervous, though not as nervous as she did. The Konti tried to smile. All that came out of her expression was an awkward and crooked grin. Her eyebrows were knitted together in puzzlement. For some reason, she still couldn’t trust him. Something at the back of her head was nagging her that he was not just a harmless human, there was just something about him she couldn’t pinpoint. Perhaps it had been the vision she had seen? There had been wounds, and she had felt sorry for him, and there had also been a woman tending to him. Nevertheless, trying to unravel the puzzling vision would bring her nowhere. It never did. The boy had asked her what she had been doing. The sound of the rain falling against dirt and leaves was actually kind of calming, and seemed to ease the tension even just a little bit. The water was cool on her skin and she uselessly wiped her face. Slowly, she stood up, still not taking her eyes off of him. “I was gathering some plants…” she explained, in reply to his query. The Konti gestured towards the stalks of grass that were crumpled and strewn on the mud. They were useless now. She’d just have to gather a fresh batch later on, or maybe on another free day. “What are you doing here?” she asked, not realizing that her tone was nothing less than accusing. Nira’lia looked around. There was nobody else, not even animals, and all she could hear was water hitting the ground. She was sure of it now, the rain was getting strong. Her light hair stuck to her face awkwardly. “Perhaps we should find some shade then?” she asked with another awkward grin. “Where were you running towards? The city? Or do you know of some shelter nearby?”

[Beodan Clathony]

Seeing the girl’s awkward smile put Beodan more at ease than a perfect one would have. Though, her face looked like it was fighting a civil war. The will to smile and the eyebrow furrow were in open combat, the eyebrow furrow seemed to be winning. Now relaxed to her, he cracked a grin at her expression. She seemed to be lost in thought, so he would keep silent to not risk interrupting something important.

The rain seemed to be pouring down with renewed vigor, heavy drops beating down through the canopy and onto his body and hair. Perhaps soon he would be thoroughly chilled, but for now his clothing proved its worth. Luckily the rain would not harm the plant, and in fact would keep it fresher for drying. Though it would take forever before the drying of the actual plant even started now that it was so wet. At least the smaller herbs were safe inside his pack, maybe just a little damp at this point. Drops traced off the end of his chin, his strong brow keeping a good deal of water from his eyes.

“I was gathering some plants…” the girl answered, gesturing to the mud and dead plant matter at their feet. In the dirt he could see crumpled stocks of something. He picked one up and sniffed. Lemongrass? He immediately felt bad, this was his fault! “Oh, I am sorry, miss! I should have been minding my way!” he started, fiddling with his hands, “I was doing the same thing actually. Here, you can have half of my Belltor plant! I’ll need to dry it first, but then we can divide it up!” He twisted to the side so that she could see the bush hanging off of his bulging pack. Cutting the vines before the plant had dried fully lowered the potency a good deal. He would much rather wait until it was fully ready than to be hasty and risk spoiling it.

“What are you doing here?” the Snake-skinned-one demanded, as if he had done something wrong. Which he had, and still was feeling bad about! So she was only right to. “As I said, I was gathering some herbs. I would like to think of myself as an herbalist, though I more just collect plants at the moment,” Dan replied, not wanting to brag about his hobby? job? Whatever it was, he knew he could rant for days about plants, and did not want to bore someone who probably did not care much. “I was running towards my little campsite. I don’t show humans this usually, so please keep it a secret, okay? I don’t want people running around trampling things. I lead you too it. It’s not much, but its something,” the Horse Kelvic continued to answer. He cocked his head at her, then began to walk in the direction of his large tent.

Tent Description :

I did not want to leave you without a way to get them inside the tent, so here are some details.

Beodan’s tent is in the woods a few chimes ride from the road. Outside, under tree cover so they do not get washed out, are a few pots with small plants growing in them of varying species. Inside the large tent, there is a bedroll tucked into the far right corner. From the ceiling hangs plants that are drying or that he just has not gotten around to putting into a jar. Speaking of which, there is a shelveset stocked top to bottom with 8 fl. oz glass jars, some empty, but most filled with one sort of processed plant or another against the left wall. Next to it, with about an arm's length gap between them, lays a desk, covered with various cutting and grinding tools, fine plant dust near the edges.

[Nira'lia]

Nira’lia cocked her head curiously as she took a look at the plant dangling from his side. It was a Belltor plant, a common species that could be found in most temperate climates. The Konti hadn’t worked with it before, but she had seen it in many books and had a vague recollection that it could be to fight against colds. ‘He’s an herbalist…?’she blinked, slightly surprised. It was one curiosity after another. First, she had dubbed him a dangerous attacker… lo and behold, he was a herbalist, just like her! However, if not for the specimen he had shown her, she probably wouldn’t have believed him. With a shrug, she followed him towards his campsite. She raised her eyebrows when he said he didn’t show it to humans, and she stifled a giggle… she wasn’t a human! She was a Konti. And as such, wasn’t he a human himself? He looked much more human than she ever did. Soon enough, they arrived at his tent, which was hidden beneath trees. Nira’lia followed him inside to see the cozy shelter… and was instantly convinced that he was an herbalist. There were plants hanging from the top, and glass jars, and tools! It was amazing, and looked like her own room, though of course there were discrepancies here and there. Such as the plants… he had so many of them! “This is great!”” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. She could hear her voice better now that they were no longer under the rain. Her drenched clothes and cold skin felt uncomfortable but she did not mind all too much. “This is all yours? Oh, how interesting! You should see my room… I have the tools but not much plants, since I don’t go to the forest all that often. Oh, oh… did you need help with anything? Let me help you!” The Konti grinned, getting straight to the point. Herbalism was a topic close to her heart, and sharing that interest with someone else always caused her excitement.

[Beodan Clathony]

The girl’s excitement was contagious, and Beodan almost found himself bouncing up and down. He never got to talk with someone about plants, especially not someone who would listen and actually care! He had held the tent’s entrance open for her and followed her inside, leaving the flap open so the room was flooded with light. The thick canopy above kept the rain out, one of the reasons why he had picked the spot, but it made light a little scarce in the tent without the flap open so lamps had to do. “This is great!” his guest exclaimed, and he smiled, replying modestly, “It’s not much, nothing fancy But it’s home!” At least she liked it, that meant he was not doing too badly for himself on his own.

Beodan lit the lamp that was contained in an open jar with dirt at the bottom to prevent accidentally burning a plant if he dropped it near that sat on his desk. Mud (now dried) coated rope stretched to the bottom and out the sides so it would stay centered and allowed him to place containers onto it for heating. The room was cast in a warm light. If only he had a hearth like the one at the tavern in the city. He then set his backpack onto the floor near a wall and stripped off his wet shirt and let it hang to dry much like the plants did just across the room. His pants were a little muddy but that would come off as he moved and it dried. He cocked his head at her. “You can hang your clothes as well, there is lots of room on the hanging rope,” he offered, fearing that she might get a cold due to his lack of an indoor fire. Poor girl was nearly to the point of shivering. “One moment.”

Dan went outside and dipped a kettle into an unused clay pot, used currently to collect spring rains, filling it half way. He came back inside, and placed the kettle onto the lamp. The water would take some time to heat on the small flame, but it would do. He nodded at her desired to assist in his work, “I would love some help! Maybe you can teach me a thing or two too, you are probably better than me at this anyway.” Their shared interest made him wonder if they could learn more together, fill in each other’s knowledge gaps. “Okay, let's get started! Hmm, see that vine of Belltor leaves that is already dry,” he pointed to the hanging sprig near the back wall, “It is fully dry, and ready to be ground. The one I collected today I want to be a honey based tincture. Honey pot is on the bottom shelf. Which one would you like to do?”

OOCPick one then I will do the other in my next post

[Nira'lia]

“Uhm, well…” she started, embarrassed, as she looked down at her feet. She was wearing her usual shirt and skirt, and didn’t really want to undress in front of someone she barely knew. It was too strange and surreal. Nira’lia waited for him to enter the tent again before speaking, “It’s fine, unless maybe you have a coat I can throw on while I dry my clothes? It’s too cold otherwise…” Being in drenched clothes was cold and uncomfortable, but she was a Konti and her second home was the cold sea. It wasn’t much too different… right? She attempted to convince herself with this mentality as she wrapped her clammy hands around herself. Perhaps later, she could take a swim in the ocean. The ocean was always cold and it had been a few days since she last dove in. The Konti smiled to herself at the thought. “I doubt that!” she laughed, in response to his comment that she knew more. “When it comes to Philtering, I don’t know much at all!” Nira’lia looked up at the dry plants and continued, “I… well, if we grind them, what will they be used for…? The Konti didn’t know much about grinding leaves as she had only done that a few times before, though she had made tinctures and would know how to make a honey-based tincture. Nira’lia scratched the back of her head awkwardly. “It would probably be better if I made the tincture,” she laughed. With that, she clapped her hands together and nodded. “Alright! Shall we?” Without waiting for an answer, she practically hopped over to the shelf he had had pointed out and got down on her knees, reaching for the honey pot he had mentioned. The Konti took it in her hands and opened the lid, seeing the gooey and sweet-smelling substance inside it. With that, she stood back up and placed the pot on the desk. She was going to enjoy this, and also she was eager to see how he would work with the dried plant.

[Beodan Clathony]

Beodan cocked his head at her embarrassment, wondering what had prompted it. Dismissing the futile assumptions from his mind, he answered, “Yes, my coat is on the cot in the corner. I do not use it very much. Feel free to put it on if you are cold.” He laughed with her in good humor, but still maintained the belief that she had more experience than he did, even if it was just a matter of having lived longer. He was happy to have a potential learning experience.

“Oh, I am no philterer, with fancy glass pipes and fires. No potions, refined just so. The closest things I make to a potion are a tincture, which are much less processed,” Dan said, trying to not give her an idea that he made potions. He preferred to be closer to the plant side of things. “Belltor tincture is used for colds and things like that, and an infusion for head pains, but a less well known quality is that you can make a hot poultice from the leaves and stocks that helps heal scratches and even large cuts. I am no doctor, but pressing plant goop onto a wound is not very difficult,” he explained, smiling at the unprofessional term ‘plant goop’. One of the perks of working alone! Or, he supposed, now with a partner.

Dan walked up beside her at the desk and started to set up his workstation. The mortar and pestle he placed near the back of the desk, out of the way but able to be reached. He would need it later. A sharp knife he set at his right hand, then went to retrieve the dried plant. He loosened the rope hook and pulled the mass free, light and stiff from lack of moisture. Setting it on the desk, he grabbed the knife and carefully cut the stocks free from the useless roots. The knife easily cut the plant, making a soft crunch each time the blade descended. He removed the roots, placing them near the entrance to the large tent. The dried root made for a good fire starter.

The Young Herbalist turned back to the leafy stocks of beltor and armed himself once more. His mind wandered to his teacher, an old crone, reminded of his first experience with the plant. Cut the stock every two leaves down, right below the stem, starting from the bottom. Yes, just like that. Not too fast now. Take your time, child, it is not going to run away from you.” He nodded at the memory, mimicking his past self by pulling the knife across the stock at the right intervals. Chimes later, he was left with a collection of small stock segments, the perfect size to be placed into the grinding mortar. He paused, the water in the kettle was bubbling now. He grabbed two glazed clay cups, and placed them on the desk. Going just outside, he cut a small handful of leaves from low on his peppermint plant. The thing grew like a weed when it rained, it was almost scary. He distributed the leaves between their two cups, and poured the hot water over them, then placed the kettle on the floor on a small bed of rocks, out of the way. “Drink this in a moment. It will warm you up!” he offered.

Back to grinding. He placed some of the dried plant into the mortar and began to grind with vigor, turning the pestle in slow but firm rounds. As he worked, the larger chunks broke down, dried Belltor becoming finer and finer as chimes trickled by, until he stopped as it was just a step above dust, like coarse flower. He did the same for the rest of the plant. It took 5 more different batches to grind the entire plant. The grinding got rid of the air pockets, and he remembered being disheartened by how the material seemed to shrink. The entire ground plant fit almost perfectly into one 8oz jar, when packed down. He placed the lid on the jar, replaced it on the shelf, and smiled. It was done! Not bad for 30 chimes work. Or was it 60? Surely not more than two hours. He looked over to see how his companion was doing.