| Logs |
2021 January 17
| Goblin Town |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
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| Realms: Goblin Town Logs |
Good Name Is A Jewel
Maerlyn chuckles, "He did call you that -- at least when you were wee..." He has a sip of tea, then continues, "Well, you're a Welsh dragon, lass! As far as I know you are currently the Welsh Dragon... in the way that I am the Maerlyn. That's an interesting thing."
Cinnamon tilts her head with curiosity, "Is that... important? I mean, being a 'the Welsh dragon' type?"
Maerlyn smiles, "Only in that I wanted to let you know that you may find odd things happening here. You may find yourself... stronger. You might find yourself changing -- moulting, in a way. For most reptiles, they shed their old skin when they're starting to outgrow it."
Cinnamon blinks slowly, her eyes widening as she stares in shock at the man over her tea. A few seconds later she realizes what she's doing, and blushes hotly, ducking her head to stare at her teacup. She hastily has a gulp of it, then takes a deep breath and considers. Finally she says slowly, "So is this... unique to being in Wales, or is it stuff that will still continue with me after we leave here?" She wryly adds, "Will I end up like... like a snake or something? Like, there'll be an entire shed outline of a dragon, sorta?"
Maerlyn is still holding his tea as if he's warming his hands, "Well, you being who and what you are, it may be something like taking a snake that hasn't had quite the right lighting but has been well-fed and putting it into its ideal habitat." He laughs and puts a hand over his mouth, "Oh dear. Oh, no, I didn't mean actually moulting. I meant sort of experientially moulting." He pauses, then grins, "Though wouldn't that be funny? Someone just toddling along tra-la... and there's the biggest shed skin on the planet?"
Cinnamon blinks puzzledly, "Er... what's moulting experientially?" then giggles shyly in spite of herself at that charmingly silly mental image!
Maerlyn smiles, "Spiritual, emotional, and mental growth. Though you may see some physical changes. I'm a bit surprised you don't have red hair, actually."
Cinnamon reflexively touches her hair, checking that it's not doing something embarrassing... then blinks curiously at Maerlyn again, "Red... hair? Er... why? Oh, wait! D-did Liam have red hair?" She sighs amusedly at herself -- same boring mousy brown hair as always. So it's not enough that her mom and sister have gorgeous blonde hair... apparently she's even a boring-as-heck human as a dragon too! -- or... something like that. She grins wryly to herself. However, though she can't really see it, Cinnamon's hair actually appears to have a few threads of scarlet in it already... though that could just be the sunlight lightening it somewhat, considering the amount of time she's been spending outdoors in the last few weeks.
Maerlyn nods, "Oh yes. Fiery red in his youth. There was quite a lot of gray in the last decades, though."
Cinnamon looks entranced, "Oh! Did you know him then? What was he like?"
Maerlyn nods, smiling, "He was fun. He laughed a lot and liked to make other people laugh. But he was also very protective and serious. I knew him for decades and decades." He leans over the table and stage-whispers, "I'm even older than I look." Then he sits back up and finally takes a sip of his tea, "I remember him being quite irritated at your father."
Cinnamon giggles at that, nodding, "He mentioned that several times in the writings he left me!" She sighs, smiling faintly as she has a sip of her tea, then stares into her cup, "Ah, well. Even if I never got to meet him, it's still nice to know he... had faith in me." She looks up at Maerlyn, adding wistfully, "I don't suppose he left anything for me with you? A... message, a package, a trust... anything?"
Maerlyn laughs and nods, "He said your father got all the 'I want a hoard' genes and none of the 'I want to protect people' genes." At her question he perks up, "Actually... wait here." He pauses, his smile wry, "I'd ask you to come along, but my workshop is kind of a mess. I try not to let people see just how messy it gets." Cinnamon smiles and nods, holding up her teacup -- she'll just sit and enjoy for a moment. She can't help thinking, though, that for someone that is apparently at least a hundred years old, he has the demeanor of someone who is... perhaps 25 years old? It also seems he gravitated toward the 60s in the way Elias gravitated toward the 70s. Cinnamon grins at that thought -- she can sorta see how someone who's seen way too many wars might be completely enchanted with the Summer of Love!
Maerlyn is gone for maybe fifteen minutes. When he comes back there are some cobwebs in his hair and his tunic has some dust on it, "He didn't give me a message to send you, but he left this with me. Told me I'd know what and when it was for. I think that time is now!" The box is a plain brown banker's box which is perhaps a little crushed around the edges. He opens the top and takes out a stack of books. They're multicolored and look well-loved.
Cinnamon looks intrigued as she pushes up her glasses, then reaches for the books, "What are they about?"
Maerlyn smiles, "Fairy tales." As he pushes them across the table to her, she can see the books are the 'colored' fairy books by Andrew Lang. They look quite old! The tall man adds, "I think they might be first editions. Or second." Cinnamon ooohs happily, her fingers brushing almost reverently across the worn covers before she picks each one up. She's pleased to have books left for her by her greatsire... but she's also checking for any messages -- any writing in the books or slips of paper or envelopes or anything similar.
The first one is autographed and has a letter in it -- a letter with her human name on it! Cinnamon's eyes widen and she gives a soft, unwitting squeak of excitement as she picks up the letter. She handles it carefully, not wishing to damage the old paper. The letter seems like it has to be at least 20 years old. It's a perfectly normal, white, legal-sized envelope, but the writing is elegant. Maerlyn can't help laughing warmly at the little squeak. Cinnamon blushes but still carefully opens the envelope and pulls out the letter to read. She's internally quite excited -- another missive from her grandfather, just for her! It's not a hugely long letter, but it is hand-written:
My dearest little hatchling, Mary:Cinnamon blinks as she stares silently at the letter she's holding, obscurely aware that the text is blurring... no, wait, she's getting choked up -- she must be crying again. She swallows and sniffles, rubbing the back of one hand under her glasses and against her eyes. Cinnamon sighs softly a few minutes later, cleaning her glasses with the hankie she'd used to wipe her eyes. She smiles a little tiredly at Maerlyn, "Thank you for keeping these for me." She's silent for a few seconds as she puts on her glasses and puts away her hankie, then has a sip of tea. Finally she says slowly, "I think... I have two questions for you, actually, please? First, would you like to meet the folks I came here with? And second... what magical whatsit is it that large flying things like dragons and gryphons must have, that keep regular folks from noticing them in the sky, please... and does it work against stuff like radar and drones as well?"
I am leaving these books with my dear friend because I suspect one day you'll make it to Wales... and if you make it to Wales, I am sure you'll make it to Llanelli. I grew up here. Well, near here, in a little cave. Well, perhaps not so little.
I've known Maerlyn -- if it's still the same Maerlyn by the time you find him -- for many years, so I suspect he'll be a safe repository for these. I got these books for my children, when they were first printed. Every little one since then has had them read to them -- or at least all my little ones and grandchildren whose lives I could safely be in. I wish I could have read them to you. Instead, I leave them in trust for you, and hope you shall read them to your hatchlings as well, when they come.
Much love:
L.
Maerlyn watches with a quiet smile as Cinnamon reads the letter and then chuckles at the way she phrases her second question, "First: yes, I would. Second, Liam called it the SEP field." He grins wryly as he adds, "He read entirely too much Douglas Adams, I think! It's really sort of a... 'don't look at me' thing like some sidhe do for their trods." He chuckles before he adds, "Also, even if a drone catches a shot of you -- how many people do you honestly think are going to believe it's real -- and not start poking holes into it and pointing out the 'obvious' CGI artifacts?"
Cinnamon laughs at that, her usual cheer returning, "Good point! Okay." She has a long, delicious slurp to finish her tea, then grins at Maerlyn, "So, is there anything else you wanted to cover or ask me? Or would you like to come back to the inn with me?"
Maerlyn also finishes his tea, then says, "Let me put this back and then we can go. I've already watered all the others. These are the ones that are mostly for actual cooking. I picked up a love for Italian food over the years." His height lets him lean over the sink in the kitchen and put the window box back into its holder outside the window.
Cinnamon neatly stacks the teacups and puts them in the sink, then gently gathers up the box of books. She beams at Maerlyn when he turns around, "Ready to go? Also, do you actually do magic? Though... how can you do that without a patron that loans you the power?"
Maerlyn smiles, "I do magic, yes. But some of it is actually alchemy and some of it is inborn. I mean, most humans don't get to be a handful of centuries old. Though it was hinted to me when the previous Merlin was training me that there's a patron out there."
Cinnamon looks interested, "Huh! From everything I've heard so far, I thought humans couldn't have inborn magic! So... are you part something else too, like me?" She grins as she heads for the door with the tall man, adding, "The others are at the inn. We came to sort out the conspiracy against the Council that got so many folks killed." She sighs, then adds firmly, "The good guys won, I think!"
Maerlyn takes out a brass key and locks the door after they pass through it, "It's entirely possible that I am, but it's not any of my close, direct ancestors. My parents were both apparently human, as were all four of my grandparents. When I was born your great-grands were often gone by the time you could remember them." Maerlyn tucks the key into the pocket of his jeans, and Cinnamon notices he didn't put on any shoes to leave the house as he adds with a smile, "Oh, I'm sure they did." As they walk down the street, he smiles and greets people much the way Shane does back on Coblyn.
Cinnamon's small smile is pleased -- she's quietly happy that this strange, ancient person who knew her greatsire... apparently approves of her! She grins as she adds, "Well, Liam certainly wasn't a close direct ancestor to me either, if that helps at all?"
Maerlyn hmms and nods, "That's true! Though I'm fairly certain I'm not a dragon, or it would have shown by now." He also doesn't seem to have pointed ears or particularly elven features -- he really does look basically human. When they reach the inn he actually has to duck his head to get through the door -- though only by an inch or so.
Cinnamon glances around, then beams and waves as she spots Josie, and then the others as well, "Hiya, everyone! I've brought Maerlyn to meet you all!" She makes introductions, then grins as she adds, "I'll be right back -- I have a lovely box of books to put in my room to take home with me! Maerlyn waves and greets some other people that apparently know him, but then he concentrates on meeting the group which came over to Wales with Cinnamon. The tall man is distractedly picking the cobwebs out of his hair as he does so.
Thorn brightens when he spies Cinnamon and... is that Maerlyn? The Maerlyn?! He... well, he looks like he stepped through a time portal from the Summer of Love, to be honest -- but Thorn knows looks can be deceiving. Besides, what would he expect Maerlyn to look like in this day and age? Dapper, modish, grunge, lounge? Though... actually, a lounge lizard Maerlyn would be interesting to see...! -as is this one -- because that is some bright tie-dye! The tall man seems cheerful and friendly as he shakes people's hands, despite giving the impression that he might be a hugger. He seems to remember everyone's names effortlessly and happily takes a seat when he's offered on. Examining Thorn, Maerlyn beams, "I'll bet you belong to that magpie outside."
Thorn blinks, then laughs, "Yes, I do! Though it's more a matter that I belong to Athala of Elmtrod."
Maerlyn nods and grins, "Ah. That too." He smiles at the barmaid who brings him a mug of something, murmuring thanks before he turns back to the little group, "Jaeger I know, and Josie I've heard of. It seems to me that Liam's hatchling has good friends."
Thorn nods, "She's very, very capable, and she's someone I trust completely." Cinnamon blushes with pleasure at Thorn's sweet comment! She's just re-entered the main room, her hands now empty -- the lovely gift from Liam is safely ensconced in her little room.
Maerlyn smiles again at Thorn, "And if you ever want to talk shop, don't hesitate to drop me a line. I like knowing other humans that are out of the ordinary." Then he tips his head as he studies Shane a bit, "You... look like sorta beansidhe, but you don't have the ears..." He looks at Fraser and says, "You... are... what exactly are you?" He doesn't give the feeling of rudeness while asking his questions -- the wide-eyed, friendly curiosity is just too obvious. Despite the white hair and obvious age in his face, he's just got that demeanor of a curious twenty-something.
Cinnamon giggles, replying, "This is just how I feel every time I walk into a new place -- all these super-spiffy folks I want to learn aaaall about!" Wryly she adds, "Though they don't always satisfy my curiosity!"
Fraser smiles and rumbles candidly, "Werewolf."
Maerlyn ahhs and beams, "Oh, excellent! Which sort?"
There's a short back-and-forth as Fraser explains his curse, Maerlyn asks if he'd like someone to find a cure, and Fraser -- after a moment's thought -- replying, "Nae. It's who and whot I am noo. I have a pack. I'll stay me."
That seems to please Maerlyn... but then he's distracted by looking at Cinnamon and Thorn, "So. Quashing a conspiracy. Exciting stuff." He catches himself again, "I may be using exciting in the wrong way there. Exciting as it 'gets the blood going, but not necessarily in a good way'! And Liam... he was a victim of that?"
Cinnamon nods gravely, "Qadan assassinated him, using a poisonous nettle and some chemical to stab him in the back. Jaeger was almost a victim too, actually." She gives the story in broad strokes, keeping it as concise as she can, since she's sure everyone's a little tired of it by now.
Maerlyn winces, "Ah, fuck. I thought that stuff was long, long gone. We tried so hard to make sure no one remembered it."
Cinnamon replies grimly, "Well, we did our best to eliminate it all at Holly -- that's for sure!" Thorn nods resolutely at Cinnamon's comment about eliminating the nettle poison. She adds quietly, "I think Holly may be healthier now, too." She blinks at a sudden thought... then turns to Shane, "Hey, Shane. Is there... something like a psychiatrist or something, at Coblyn? Someone that might be able to talk to poor Niamh? I bet she's, like... feeling like she's waking up or something, and might be horrified at some of the stuff she's done?"
Shane thinks a bit, then slowly says, "Well... there's Brynn..."
Maerlyn clears his throat, "I'm an herbalist, and an alchemist, and... a few other things. The Maerlyns before me did their best to eradicate the stuff. I came along a little too late to help with that. I only know about it because of the books I inherited. There's an herbary from around the time of the first Viking explorations toward the New World that talks about it. Pretty sure I've got the only copy."
Cinnamon blinks at Maerlyn, then gets a worried expression, "Wait -- are you saying there might be some in the New World?! Or... oh! Wait, wait, I misunderstood. Okay, sorry!" She grins, then turns back to Shane, "Okay, there's someone named Brynn. If I called Cara- er, the palace, do you think they'd let this person see her?" She pulls out her cell phone, though as she does so she realizes she's in a catchments -- there might be no bars. She'll check, though, for just in case -- she really doesn't want to leave poor Niamh suffering if the woman has sort of come back to her senses! There are no bars, though that's no surprise to nearly anyone. However, the entrance to this enclave is through a shop which can be reached from a mundane street.
Shane considers again and smiles, "Brynn. That's right. You haven't met Brynn yet. He's..." The halfbreed laughs, "He's a motley fool! But he's also a spiritual psychologist."
Cinnamon nods, then blinks -- that sounds... different to her! Still: focus! If she can help Niamh, she should. She nods firmly once, then says to everyone, "I need to make that call -- even though I don't like Niamh, letting her suffer feels wrong to me! I'll be right back, okay?" She tucks her phone back into her bag and heads for the door.
Maerlyn watches Cinnamon go and then turns to the others, "Should someone...?"
Shane nods and scoots out, "I'll go with. Thorn, do you want to come too? It probably won't take long."
Cinnamon blinks back over her shoulder, "I, er... d-don't think it should be... dangerous?" She thinks a moment, then grins, "But you're welcome to come along if you like!"
Thorn nods, also coming out, "Sure, I'll come along!" He smiles to Maerlyn, "This shouldn't take long."
Cinnamon patters down the narrow street towards the shop through which they arrived, smiling shyly at the two men, "You really didn't have to, but thank you!"
Shane admits, "I want to get a look at the place today." He wears his kilt here, but not his weaponry -- or at least not any visible weaponry. It's not his 'patch,' after all. Along the way he stops at a vendor and gets a small sack of apples and some dried apricots.
The guards on the door are the same quartet as when the little group arrived, though this time all the watchers are friendly. When they hear that the visitors are just going to use the phone, they don't make anyone sign out. Cinnamon thanks them, then blinks at Shane, "Which place?" as she steps outside the shop and checks her phone, crossing her fingers that it will work now.
Shane takes one of the apples out of his sack and offers it to Cinnamon as he smiles, "The whole enclave. I know Coblyn like the back of my hand. I'd like to see how this place is the same or different."
Cinnamon's phone works just fine once she steps into the shop -- and even better once she steps outside. She beams in relief at her cell, "Oh, yay!" She laughs, accepting the apple with thanks, then has a big bite before she types in Elias' landline number. She grins as she chews, remembering the vampire's phone: a seriously old-fashioned rotary style -- with the earpiece hanging on the side! It always makes her want to giggle when she sees it.
It takes eleven or twelve rings before the phone is answered by a curious sounding Elias, "Hello?" Of course, he has no caller ID.
Cinnamon says cheerily, "Hallo, Elias! It's me, Cinnamon! Do you have a moment?"
Elias smiles, "Hello! Yes, I do, dear -- I'm simply waiting for water to boil so I can sterilize my carboys for a new batch of mead. How's Ireland? Or are you in Wales already?"
Cinnamon laughs happily, "We're in Wales! We met Maerlyn! But listen, I have a favor to ask of you, please?" She swiftly explains how, once Killian sort of lost it, the folks at Holly had acted like a huge weight was lifted off them, "So I was worried: what if that happened to Niamh too? What if she's struggling now with the realization of some of the awful things she's done? So I asked Shane if there was someone that could talk to her and he says there's someone called Brynn who might be able to help her so I'm calling to ask you if you could please ask Caradog if Brynn could see her? Please?"
Elias listens and hmmms, "You know... that might be wise. She's being held at the palace still. She's not talking to anyone much, but Brynn might be able to help. You'd like him, I think. Is this the same Maerlyn from two hundred or so years back? He was a sweet young man."
Cinnamon sighs in relief, "Oh, fabulous. Thanks so much, Elias!" She pauses, thinking, then says hesitantly, "I... think so? He knew Liam? Oh! And he had a box of books Liam gave him for me -- a bunch of the Lang color-named fairy tale books!"
Elias smiles, "That would be him. Very enthusiastic. Quite sweet. Did he stay that way? The Maerlyns often have a lot on their shoulders." He laughs warmly at news of the gift, "Those are lovely books. We had them in the library when I taught."
Cinnamon beams, "It sure sounds like him! He's talking to everyone else while I call you -- we're at Llanelli right now. Oh, and Shane and Thorn are with me -- we're standing just outside so I can call. Want to talk to them?"
Elias asks to speak to Shane, who cheerfully agrees to chat with the vampire. As he reaches for the cell, though, he starts seeming a little confused, his voice slightly slurred, "I... there's..." He starts to sway.
Cinnamon blinks a bit startledly -- then shoves her phone at Thorn, "Take this!" With the other arm she reaches for the half-beansidhe, bracing him so he doesn't fall, "Shane?! What's going on? Are you okay?"
Thorn frowns, grabbing the phone as Cinnamon shoves it at him. "Shane? What's wrong?" He starts to focus his healing magic onto Shane. The half-beansidhe's eyes are blurred and unfocused. He's obviously trying to say... something, but it's more word salad than actual words. He's also starting to sink toward the ground, though Cinnamon's sturdy bracing of him helps. He waves a hand toward the shop and there's more word salad.
Cinnamon says tightly to Thorn, "Let's get inside the shop quick before regular humans try to help! Let Elias know we'll call him back, please?" She's a bit pink at touching Shane so much, but it's more important to her to help him, as she carefully wraps her arms around him and walks him into the shop.
Thorn nods quickly to Cinnamon, helping on Shane's other side as he quickly says to Elias, "We'll have to call you back sorry Shane is sick we'll call you as soon as we can sorry!"
Fortunately Elias understands -- he just says, "Call me when he's safe," before hanging up.
Once the shopkeeper/gatekeeper notices the visitors are having issues, she comes to help -- then locks the street door and turns around the closed sign. She looks worried, "What happened, children?"
Cinnamon gasps worriedly, as she carefully lays Shane down, "We -- we don't know! He was fine and then... this?" She thinks a moment, then frowns, "The... bag of fruit maybe? Though I had an apple too, and I don't feel anything bad...?" She checks for the bag, and searches her memory: what fruit did Shane eat? She remembers: Shane had been eating an apple, just like her. He hadn't had a chance yet to offer one to Thorn, though he'd been turning toward Thorn when Cinnamon handed Shane the phone.
Shane's color is getting bad -- a sort of ashy-green tinge to his skin -- and his eyes are rolled back in his head. Thorn casts a healing spell, hoping that if it's poison, this can draw it out of him quickly enough -- before any damage is done. Thankfully, the healing works: his color comes back quickly and his eyes clear... though drawing whatever it was out of Shane leaves him coughing and a little confused, "Wha' th..... "
Cinnamon sighs in relief from where she's kneeling next to him, holding his hands, "Oh thank goodness! Shane, how're you feeling? Thorn healed you -- we think the apple you ate was poisoned!" Thorn lets out a relieved breath, letting Cinnamon bring Shane up to speed. He looks around for the apple Shane had been eating. It's not in the shop, though Thorn remembers Shane was already going limp when they got him inside -- and they weren't that far outside the door, initially! The gatekeeper scowls, "Green apples? Or red?"
Cinnamon glances around, then picks up one of the apples from the bag, "Green!" She adds to Thorn, "Can you see the one Shane was eating? He must've dropped it outside, maybe?"
The gatekeeper mutters as she stands up, then goes to the bookshelf/door and opens it, telling the troll, "Get one of the other guards to check the fruit stalls between here and the inn. We're looking for green apples."
Cinnamon thinks a bit, then describes the shop bits that she remembers too, for the shopkeeper. Thorn moves to the shop's front door, asking the gatekeeper, "Could you let me out and try to find the apple?" The shopkeeper is happy to let Thorn out, and he finds the apple there on the pavement, just outside the door. It's either been ignored or not seen at all. Thorn scoops it up quickly and ducks back inside so that she can close the door.
The apple Thorn is holding is maybe half-eaten, though they're small apples, so it didn't take many bites. Cinnamon frowns thoughtfully at it. It's green, of course, like the one she ate -- but she's feeling fine! Not dizzy, not tongue-twisted... experimentally she murmurs, "Sally sells sea shells by the seashore. Peter picked a peck of pickled peppers. Hmm. Nope, think I'm fine." Yet... the gatekeeper seemed to think all the green apples would be bad? Cinnamon is confused.
The shopkeeper nods firmly, "They'll be on the lookout, children. Sometimes there are... I'd call them mischief spirits, except that they're more deadly than mischievous. It's been over a year since we've had one."
Cinnamon blinks at the shopkeeper, "Who'll be on the lookout, please? For what?" She blinks again, "Deadly mischief spirits?! Oh my gosh, why?! Who'd do such horrible things?!"
Thorn hears the bit about 'mischief spirits' and frowns. "The heck?" he asks, crouching down to check on Shane again.
The shopkeeper's voice is almost gentle, as if talking to children, "Will-o-wisps try to lure people to their deaths. Some river spirits will try to drown you if you're not careful. The guard keeps them out pretty effectively, but sometimes..."
Shane sounds a little confused but manages to say relatively clearly, "Yeah. Coblyn... once in a while someone tries to... urgh." He pushes himself to sit up, adding, "Poison? Jesus. Lot of that goin' around."
Cinnamon gives a startled squeak as Shane sits up -- but then relief floods her and she throws her arms around the dazed beansidhe, "OhmygoshShaneyou'reokay!"
Shane blinks and hugs Cinnamon back, "Yeah. I'm OK... what...?"
Cinnamon sighs gustily in relief -- Shane's okay again! He's hugging her! Everything is wonderful! It takes Shane sitting back again, a few heartbeats later, before it really registers: she's throwing herself all over Shane, eeek! He must be so embarrassed -- she knows she sure is! Her face is flaming a beet red as she squeaks, "Ohyeslet'sgoodideayeplet'sgo!" and scrambles to her feet. Internally she prays that Shane's not too dreadfully offended!
The gatekeeper covers a smile, then says firmly, "I think we should get you all back to the inn while the guard o' the watch have a look!"
Cinnamon blinks at the gatekeeper, pushing her glasses up as she thinks -- there's something still missing here... oh! She nods politely to the elderly looking woman, "Yes, ma'am, just as soon as we reassure Elias, please?" She's pulling out her cell again and dialing as she adds to Thorn, "Shane's okay now, right?"
Thorn nods, letting out a breath. "He should be, yes," he says. "It wasn't anything more than... hrmph, 'more than' just poison. I think he's okay now. Of course, food and rest are prescribed...."
Cinnamon grins in relief at Thorn as she tiredly sits down on the ground, "Fantastic! OK, Shane, want to talk to Elias to reassure him?" That was a lot more adrenaline than she'd expected to use this morning!
Shane is better, but he's still a little shaky as he gets to his feet, "Yeah. Rest, food... not apples," then squeezes Thorn's shoulder, "Thank you!" He's got that 'Where am I?' sort of expression that happens when someone last remembers being in a different place than they are now. Turning to say something to Cinnamon, he checks, "We were talking to... Elias? Yes, let him know I'm OK. I can talk to him if you're not up to it, acushla."
Cinnamon smiles up at Shane, her heart unwittingly in her eyes due to her relief, "I'm fine, sweetie, really -- I just thought you might want to talk to him, you know? Oh, wait -- I think he's answering here..."
Elias is indeed answering -- his voice has that slight sharpness that worry brings, though he's obviously not angry or anything, "Cinnamon? Is he OK? Are you OK?"
Cinnamon sighs in relief, "Hi, Elias! Yes, everything's fine now -- sorry! Shane was poisoned by a, um... a malicious mischief spirit, they told me? But Thorn was here and took care of everything, so Shane's good now. Want to talk to him? He's gonna need some rest and stuff, but I think talking should be fine?" She grins up at Shane, holding the phone out with an inquiring expression on her face -- does he want to talk?
Shane takes the phone and smiles. From his side of the conversation, it would seem that Elias is being a bit of a mother hen, which makes the half-beansidhe smile, "We'll be fine. The guard o' the watch is looking for them..." He pauses, then nods, "That's a good idea, actually. I'll make sure we have all of them gathered up. Here she is." He hands the phone back to Cinnamon.
Cinnamon has been leaning back on her hands where she's sitting cross-legged on the floor, and just breathing deeply, relaxing... everything is fine, and there's no reason for her to be tense any more... whew! She smiles thanks at Shane when he returns the phone, then says into it, "Hi, Elias! So, is there anything we can bring you from Wales? Oh, also, the, er... talk in Holly went... um, mostly well." She sighs, then adds, "I'm really afraid Killian's truly insane by now, unfortunately, and I, umm..." she takes a deep breath, looking ashamed as she adds, "I... f-flamed Darragh, I'm afraid. I k-... I k-killed him..."
Elias' voice is gentle, "I think, child, that Killian was already insane... and if you killed someone, I have no doubt they were a true danger to someone." Thorn gently places a hand on Cinnamon's shoulder, letting her finish her talk with Elias, unconsciously mirroring what the vampire said: That Darragh was in fact dangerous. Shane is looking into the sack of apples and counting them as if to make sure none have been lost.
Cinnamon is silent for a few heartbeats before she says quietly, "I... well, maybe? But I... well, I guess I need to work more on my self control, you know? Because... well, like, I... I d-don't want people t-to be afraid of me, you kn-now?
Elias' voice is both gentle and fond, "Anyone that knows you would know you aren't scary when it's unneeded, dear... and with those obviously relaxed people around you, others will realize you're not someone they need to fear."
Cinnamon thinks about that, feeling somewhat cheered up, "That... is a good point, true -- I j-just have to, um... make sure I have lots of friends, then, right?"
The vampire laughs softly, "You already do, child. Now. Go take care of Shane. Let me know what you find out about the apples and the spirit."
Cinnamon nods, forgetting she can't be seen, "We will, Elias -- don't worry! Thorn's keeping a careful eye on him, I know. Oh! You didn't say, though -- is there anything we can bring you from Wales?" She glances up at Thorn as she's speaking, smiling ruefully as she lightly squeezes his hand -- she appreciates him being so nice!
Elias considers, "If Maerlyn has any mother from any brewing he's done, I'd like some."
Cinnamon blinks startledly, "Has a what, please?!"
Elias chuckles, "It's sort of a culture of live yeast. If he has some, he'll give you directions on how to keep it live."
"Huh!" Cinnamon sounds fascinated, "I've never heard of that before -- but sure, happy to ask!" She grins, adding, "Ok, have a nice day then, Elias, and we'll see you for the ne- er... actually, will you be going to the next Council meeting?"
Elias replies, "It rather depends on where it is and when it is. I can arrange transport to some of them. Others... not so much. If that happens, I send a proxy."
Cinnamon puzzledly replies, "I was told it was in Texas, where Sparrow's folks are?"
Elias smiles, "Ah, yes; I will be going to that one. I have a friend that has a car we can use. The windows in the back are very, very dark."
Cinnamon beams, "Awesome! Let me know if there's anything I can do to help, okay?" She glances over to where everyone else is waiting, and scrambles to her feet, "OK, we're heading out now, so talk later -- thanks!" She says her goodbyes, hangs up and tucks her cell away, then smiles uncertainly at Thorn and Shane, "So... everything's good? Oh!" She pulls out the apple she'd been eating from her bag, holding it out, "Here's the missing one, I think?"
Shane looks relieved, "Oh, good! I thought maybe I'd dropped it and someone grabbed it." He puts the apple into the sack he got and sighs, "And now to find out who did that... you sure you're OK? Maybe they're randomly poisoned."
Cinnamon nods at the comment about 'random poison,' "That's my thought, considering how much of the apple I'd already eaten." She smiles reassuringly, "I'm fine! Let's get you safe back into the catchment first, okay?" Shane nods a bit tiredly.
The gatekeeper opens the door into the enclave again and tells them she's going to be closing the outer door for the night. Shane is walking more slowly than he otherwise might have, as he says quietly to Thorn, "I owe you big, man."
Thorn smiles quietly to Shane, "Just doing what I do, Shane. I've no doubt you or Cinnamon would do much the same for me." Cinnamon thanks the gatekeeper with a relieved smile, and walks last of her little group -- she wants to make sure everyone gets in safely.
Shane smiles, "No reason not to say thank you anyway."
The little trio are no sooner out the second gate -- the one with the spear trap -- than Josie is upon them! She scoops Shane up to snuffle all over him, as if checking to make sure he's OK. It makes the half-beansidhe laugh. Jaeger is with them and looking grim. Cinnamon blinks startledly, wondering how they knew -- then whews as she remembers: the guard came in here! She smiles up at Josie and Jaeger, "Shane's okay now! Thorn saved him."
Josie sets Shane down and then comes over to snuffle Cinnamon and Thorn as well, muttering about stupid people with stupid poison apples and don't they know Snow White wasn't real? Jaeger smiles a bit wryly, "Guard o' the watch came to the inn to check on the rest of us."
Cinnamon giggles, ticklishly wrinkling up her nose at Josie's whiskers flicking over her face as the werewolf snuffles her! She hugs Josie tightly, "It's okay now, Jo -- promise! It's Thorn you should thank, too. Think he saved Shane's life!"
"I'm just glad to help." Thorn's expression darkens, "Like Shane said, altogether too much poison around, it seems."
Josie wraps her arms around Thorn and actually picks him up to hug him as she snuffles him as well. Her tail only starts wagging once she's sure everyone smells OK, as she rumbles, "Maerlyn said you should come to his house and bring the apples."
Thorn erfs! as Josie sniffs him, then laughs quietly. "Thanks, Josie," he says warmly.
Cinnamon sighs in relief as she sees the tail wag -- oddly enough, she finds that very reassuring! "Okay, sounds good to me. Um... Shane, you wanna go rest, and I can take the bag?"
Thorn nods to Shane, "I'd recommend it. Food, liquids -- lots of liquids! -- and plenty of rest."
Shane looks considering... then sighs and admits, "A lie down would be good. I'll even make sure all the liquids are water or juice." The half-elf proceeds to tightly hug everyone that seems huggable before being led off by Jaeger. Josie apparently intends to come along to Maerlyn's.
Cinnamon grins and happily hugs back, then neatly slips the bag off Shane's shoulder as he steps back. She grins up at Josie as she hooks the bag over her own shoulder, "Okay, ready to roll!" It's easy to find Maerlyn's place again; the door is invitingly open. Also, some of the numerous window boxes look as if they might have been harvested. Cinnamon knocks lightly on the doorframe, calling, "Hellooo! Maerlyn? It's me, Cinnamon, and some friends? We brought the poisoned apple!" She steps slowly into the house, glancing around to see where the wizard is.
Maerlyn comes in from the kitchen and sighs in relief, "Good. OK. Everyone's good. I'm... did you get all of them?"
Cinnamon nods reassuringly as she holds out the bag, "Oh, yeah! Shane ate most of the poisoned one, and I had one that wasn't poisoned, but the remainders are in here too." Curiously she adds, "What are you checking for, please?"
Maerlyn is wearing a robe made of heavy fabric, splashed with various stains -- though it's short enough that his feet and the hems of his bellbottoms are visible beneath the hem, "Various poisons. We need to know what was in it in case there are others..." He shakes his head and sighs. Thorn is again reminded that Maerlyn is not the Maerlyn of Le Mort d'Arthur -- or even any of the other Arthurian stories.
Cinnamon puzzledly asks, "I thought it was, um... malicious mischief spirits?" She hops up into a nearby chair once Maerlyn has the apples, swinging her feet since they don't reach the floor, and watching with interest.
Maerlyn nods as he gingerly accepts the little bag of fruit, "Oh, yes; likely. But I want to know what poison it was so we can be ready with antidotes in case anyone else got some of it... but not enough to be deadly." The room he leads them into is something like a cross between a chemistry lab, a kitchen, and a grow room.
Cinnamon patters after the tall, robed man -- she's very curious as to how he'll test for poison! She nods as she hops up into another chair, "Good idea!" then sighs as she adds, "It worked... scary fast too!"
Maerlyn nods and pulls on some very un-Arthurian nitrile gloves as he starts slicing the apples up. He puts each one in its own dish as he adds, "Tell me about the effects other than that." With something serious to concentrate on, Maerlyn seems more solemn -- and less like your gentle hippie uncle.
Cinnamon thinks a moment, then says, "Okay... Thorn, correct me if I get anything wrong, okay? So Shane had several bites of apple, that I saw. He was going to talk to Elias -- oh!" She grins, "Elias the vampire of Coblyn Street remembers you well and says hi! Okay. So... right! Shane reached for the phone, started moving a bit slowly and looked a bit puzzled. Then he started slowly sinking down like he was going to fall, and when he tried to speak it was just... sort of like... like word salad? All mixed up? So I grabbed him and took him into the shop, and the lady there closed the shop and locked the door... hmm. What else... oh! Shane started turning a sort of awful green-gray color, and his eyes rolled back..." She shivers unhappily, then adds in a rush, "Uhh and then Thorn healed him and it was all okay again!"
Maerlyn nods and holds up the apple Cinnamon nibbled on, "You bit into this one? And the half-eaten one is Shane's?"
Cinnamon nods at the apples, "Yeah, I think so!" She points at the one with only two big bites out of it, "That one's mine. Shane's is the poisoned one."
Maerlyn nods. The plants which surround him in this room are all under the UV lights, and look like they're just normal plants that might not survive a Welsh winter. In a darker corner there are also racks of what look like mushrooms... while under the mushrooms are several carboys with quite modern-looking airlocks. The wizard drops a bit of fruit sliced from Shane's apple into a dish of... something... which immediately turns an alarming scarlet color and makes him swear.
"Oh!" Cinnamon blinks startledly, staring at the slightly foamed results, "That was... um... dramatic!" She hesitates, then asks a bit diffidently, "Do you... make like mead or beer or stuff like that, too?"
Maerlyn drops a slice of Cinnamon's apple into another dish, which immediately turns the same scarlet color. His voice is slightly absent as he replies, "I do -- mead, mostly. Sometimes I do some really not-great wine... though it works for cooking." He blinks at the second dish, frowning worriedly, "You're sure you ate parts of this one? Shane didn't eat both of them?"
Cinnamon beams, pushing up her glasses, "Okay! In that case, I'd like to talk to you later about yeast mothers, please!" She studies the apples, then nods decisively, "I'm sure -- that was the apple I ate, yes!"
Thorn frowns, "Are all of them poisoned?"
Maerlyn mms and nods, "Of course, Cinnamon. If you like, I can send you a couple of bottles of mead that have the mother still in." Then he drops pieces of all the apples into similar liquid... and they all turn virulently scarlet. The wizard takes a deep breath, then lets it out slowly, "Amygdalin. Whoever did that basically convinced the apples that the whole fruit should release amygdalin." He nods a bit grimly to Thorn, "The whole bagful, yes."
Cinnamon frowns thoughtfully, "Amygdalin... why does that sound familiar..."
Maerlyn turns and shifts to rest his hips against the edge of one of his worktops, tapping his skull, "The amygdala is part of the brain. It helps with processing emotions. Kinda almond shaped, which is funny -- funny-weird, not funny-haha -- because amygdalin is a chemical in fruit seeds that releases hydrogen cyanide when it's ingested... and cyanide smells like sweet almonds to some people."
Simultaneously Cinnamon excitedly almost burbles, "Oh! That's the stuff that was supposed to cure cancer, wasn't it? In, um... fruit pits and seeds and stuff? But what it really did wa- oh." She blinks, looking slightly horrified, "Cyanide poisoning -- right..." Then she blinks at Maerlyn... and giggles at their talking over each other! "Sorry! Sorry, I, um, tend to kinda ramble on sometimes... uh, so! Right, um... mothers! Right, I was wondering about that because I asked Elias if I could bring him anything from Wales and he said if you had any, er... was it yeast mothers?" She frowns thoughtfully again, rummaging through her memories -- then nods once, "Right! Any mother from any brewing you've done -- that's what he asked for, if you're willing!" She beams hopefully at the wizard, "Maybe, please?"
Maerlyn blinks slowly, "Cinnamon. Look at all the dishes on the worktop."
Cinnamon blinks at Maerlyn, then obediently looks around the workshop... then looks puzzledly back at the wizard again, "Yes?"
Maerlyn says solemnly, "They're all the same color."
Cinnamon blinks again, pushing her glasses up and studying the workshop carefully. Then she looks confusedly back at Maerlyn, "Well, the ceramic ones are... but the glass dishes and tubing are a different color? Also... um, why does it matter what color your dishes are? Are they magic or something?"
Maerlyn says patiently, "The liquids in them are all the same color... meaning they all had the same chemical reaction." Cinnamon nods to Maerlyn, still looking confused. She doesn't say anything, since she's not sure where he's going with this. The wizard isn't being patronizing, but his voice is gentle, "Meaning that they all had the same chemical in them." He waits a moment and says gently, "They were all poisoned."
Thorn frowns again, "So... all the apples at the stall were poisoned?" Then his eyes go wide and he whispers, "Oh, crap!"
Cinnamon tilts her head thoughtfully at Maerlyn as she considers... then says pragmatically, "Unless dragons are resistant to poison -- which I know isn't the case because Liam was poisoned by his assassin -- I couldn't have been poisoned! ...because I didn't react like Shane did. So the apples must've just been, um... 'convinced' -- and Shane got unlucky, and I got lucky."
Maerlyn nods to Thorn, "Yes. All of them. But since the guards roped off the stall with those apples, none were sold after they were alerted. They're going to be checking door-to-door to see if anyone else ate any of them. Some of us don't react as badly to poisons as others." Then he looks back to Cinnamon, "Not all dragons are the same, child. Not even all related dragons are the same... just as not all werewolves are the same. It's genetic. One dragon might have a resistance to poison, while another gets the ability to turn coal into diamonds."
Cinnamon blinks startledly, "Coal... into diamonds?! Whoaaa!" She pauses, thinking... then curiously adds, "Even within a dragon lineage within the same species? We're that different?"
Maerlyn smiles, "No diamonds in at least a millennium, actually. But this isn't that different from human genetics. You can have the same parents, with one child having the genetic predisposition to be good at maths, while the other can't do anything harder than long division. It's just that dragons have more intense genetic options."
Cinnamon blinks startledly at Maerlyn again, her eyes widening -- but then she laughs! "I see Liam talked to you a lot about me, then!" She grins... then gets a thoughtful expression, murmuring to herself, "But how would you test..." Her gaze falls on the bag of apples, and she straightens a bit excitedly -- but then pauses and turns to Thorn, "Hey, Thorny? I'd like to test this, um, supposition... but could I ask you to be ready, please, if I fall over?"
Thorn blinks worriedly, "Uh... sure, but... what are you planning on doing?"
Maerlyn looks slightly bemused as he replies to Cinnamon, "Well, enough for me to know your name...?" It's apparent that he doesn't get why his analogy made her reply in that fashion. At Thorn's query, though, Maerlyn tips his head slightly, "I believe she's going to try to eat another apple." This doesn't seem to worry him, though Josie whines unhappily.
Cinnamon grins cheerfully at the healer as she grabs an apple, "Gonna eat one!" She takes a deep breath, then a big bite! She chews thoroughly, swallows... then waits attentively. She grins at Maerlyn as she waits, "My... enjoyment of math always bemused both my parents -- and my 'normal' little sister, who was about as you described!" Nothing happens other than Cinnamon munching on a really rather tasty -- if also tart -- green apple.
"Ah! I see." Maerlyn smiles, "I didn't realize. Liam talked of how bright you were, but he didn't specifically mention mathematics." He glances at Thorn, making sure the healer is ready for just in case.
Thorn glances at Maerlyn's calmness, then lets out a breath as Cinnamon appears to eat the apple without any problem, "Well... that's pretty definitive. This doesn't mean you're immune to all poisons... but it's a pleasant surprise nonetheless!"
Cinnamon grins cheerfully at Maerlyn! Then she turns to Thorn, "Okay, running some tests -- since we know Shane started slurring in... less than two minutes, I think? So! Here we go..." She starts reciting tongue-twisters and children's poetry for a few minutes... though after a moment or two she kind of taste/smells bitter almonds in the back of her throat. "Eurgh! Bad taste. Can I have a drink of water, please, Maerlyn?"
Maerlyn nods, "Let me get you milk instead." He straightens from his seat on the worktop and heads upstairs. A few minutes later he returns with milk in an old-fashioned glass pint bottle. As he hands it to Cinnamon he murmurs to Thorn, "If she decides to run any other tests, please be close..."
Cinnamon grins and shakes her head as she accepts the bottle, "No, just this one, thanks!" She has a big slug of the milk, then sighs in relief, "That's better. Okay! So, anything else we can test?" She grins reassuringly at Josie as she adds, "See, one less thing to worry about with me!"
Thorn grins quietly at Maerlyn, then looks consideringly at Cinnamon, "So you started to taste the cyanide?"
Maerlyn looks consideringly around his lab/brewery/grow room, "I've got a few things we could try." He smiles apologetically to Thorn, "I don't keep them for malicious reasons -- cross my heart. Some poisons are actually used for good reasons... and I keep them well-secured." He moves to a locked metal cabinet and mutters something before opening the door. He reaches to a top shelf and brings down two bottles, "Strychnine and ricin."
Thorn grimaces as Maerlyn pulls out the two bottles and names them. He's reasonably sure Cinnamon will be fine... but he wishes there was some other way to test her immunity, rather than just chugging poisons! Josie's hackles go up and she grumbles unhappily, "Cinn... can we... kinda... not?"
Maerlyn smiles wryly, "I've got the ricin because I'm trying to work out antidotes. There currently aren't any. That cabinet is not only physically but magically locked."
Cinnamon hmms as she considers Thorn's question, "Kinda?" She grins uncertainly at Josie, "Uh, okay... not what, though?"
Josie looks almost abashed, "It's scary to have you eating or drinking that stuff."
Cinnamon blinks at the poisons Maerlyn's holding -- and then understanding floods across her face, "Oh! You thought I mean test on me!" She pauses... then looks fascinated, "Whoa... we could find out for sure? That's, um..." She pauses again, glancing almost guiltily at Josie, "Oh. Um... oh, dear. Josie, I really don't want to make you feel bad! Really I don't... but... where else could we find such a good situation to test in, you know? Got the pure stuff so I know exactly what I'm trying, and got Thorny here for right-away reactions!" She looks hopeful, "Wouldn't that be okay? Maybe?"
Maerlyn considers, then puts the ricin away, adding, "I've got activated charcoal as well, in case Thorn needs help." He holds up both hands, "I understand why it would be worrisome, especially given Liam's manner of death..."
Thorn lets out a slow breath, "So... controlled conditions... it's... mostly safe?"
Cinnamon grins at Thorn, "You should know -- you're the controlling condition, dude!"
Maerlyn nods firmly, "Controlled conditions. Strychnine is less deadly than ricin and the effects can be seen more quickly. This is what the crazy humans drink when they're juggling rattlesnakes."
Cinnamon nods thoughtfully, "Okay. So how long does it take to manifest, and how much does it take?" She sets down the bottle of milk and reaches for the strychnine.
Maerlyn mmms, "Fifteen minutes to an hour. High doses are... pretty serious pretty quickly. Smaller doses, you see spasms, agitation, and arching. It's sort of what I've seen in a few movies or TV shows that had poisoning." He smiles almost bashfully, "I've occasionally spend a year or three out of the enclave."
Cinnamon studies the label on the bottle, then smiles up at Maerlyn, "Got a teeny scale we can use?" She adds pragmatically to Thorn, "This label says the first symptoms are muscle spasms within five to 15 minutes, so if you notice anything like that, please feel free to hit me with the healing magic, okay?"
Thorn lets out a breath again and nods with worried emphasis to Cinnamon, "Will do!" Josie unhappily flattens her ears, but doesn't try to stop her friend.
Cinnamon grins cheerfully, "Thanks!" then turns to Maerlyn, "I'm guesstimating about 100 mg should do it. Do you want to measure it out?"
Maerlyn has a small brass scale; he measures out 100 mg of the powder, then hmms... "Any milk left?" Cinnamon nods and hands him the bottle. Maerlyn pours the powder into the milk and swirls it around before handing it back, "It'll taste like ass."
Cinnamon giggles at that! She takes a deep breath... then slugs it down as quickly as she can. She grimaces, wrinkling her nose in disgust after she's swallowed, "Eeeeurgh!" She grins wryly at her friends, then sets down the bottle and folds her hands in her lap. "So! Cards, anyone?" She giggles a little tensely, but is still smiling. Then she brightens at a thought, pulling her cell phone and checking the time, "Here, I'll set a timer for ten minutes -- how's that?" Thorn too is looking at his watch.
Maerlyn chuckles, "The only cards I have are Tarot. I mean, they were historically used as playing cards and all, but it's a pain to get them settled back down after you've played solitaire with them."
Cinnamon grins at Maerlyn, "Sorry, I was just teasing!" She tilts her head curiously and adds, "Settled down? Explain, please?"
Maerlyn tilts his hand back and forth, considering, "Eh. The readings are weird for days after they've been used as playing cards."
Cinnamon laughs startledly! "What, they're insulted or something?"
Maerlyn grins, "That's my current working theory." His blue eyes are twinkling a little, though it's entirely possible he's serious but also joking a little... in that 'I'm serious about this but I know how it sounds' kind of way.
Josie can't help giggling! Cinnamon grins uncertainly, "Weird! Well... okay, I guess?" Thorn blinks at Maerlyn's dry tone. The healer is... not at all sure if the wizard is joking or not! Part of him thinks: [Well, why would I know? He's a wizard!] Conversation is a little stilted after that... but eventually the ten minutes pass and Cinnamon perks up interestedly, "Oh, there we go! So... is that it? Am I immune to strychnine, then?"
Maerlyn glances at the old-fashioned clock on the wall -- the kind with a pendulum and weights, "Mmmm. Well. That's a fairly heavy dose... I'd say you're either immune or very, very resistant."
Cinnamon beams at that, "Awesome! And nobody else had to get hurt for me to find out -- thank you so much, Maerlyn!"
Maerlyn nods, "It's good to know." He sighs, "I'm sorry it wasn't an expressed gene in Liam."
Cinnamon nods slowly at that, her former good mood deflating abruptly. She sighs, studying her hands in her lap for a bit... then sighs again, taking a deep breath, "Well. I think we were going to go exploring around the catchment today... but maybe tomorrow I could come over and get some, um, yeast mother?"
Maerlyn smiles, "I'll send you home some bottles with the mother still in." He stands up... and then, without a lot of warning, hugs Cinnamon, "I didn't mean to stick my foot in my mouth there. He was amazing."
Cinnamon gives a startled squeak at the hug -- but then smiles a bit uncertainly and tries to return it, "Thank you. I wish I could have met him." She sighs again, but by the time Maerlyn straightens, she's smiling politely again, "So where do you recommend tourists to explore, here?"
Maerlyn smiles, "Inside the enclave or outside?"
"Inside, please!" Cinnamon smiles at her friends, "We'll explore outside later, right?"
Maerlyn nods, "When you want to go outside, take a train to Swansea and go have a look at the observatory. It's technically closed, but it's not really closed. Inside the enclave... mmmm..." He slides off the worktop and taps his chin, his long white braid swinging as he looks around himself, "Something we have that Coblyn doesn't..." Then he beams, "The druidic circle!"
Cinnamon brightens, "Ooh! Like a Stonehenge?" She grins excitedly at her friends, "Maybe Josie will feel more at home there too, if it's full of fresh air and greenery!"
Thorn blinks, "You have one here? In the enclave? It... it fits?"
Maerlyn nods, beaming, "Well... it's a smallish one. But it's one that's sort of..." He makes squeezing and expanding motions with his hands, "It doesn't seem like it should fit, but it does?"
Cinnamon giggles! "It's bigger on the inside than the outside?" then grins, "Where is it? Let's go!"
Maerlyn chuckles, "That was largely filmed in Wales for a long time, you know? But yes, somewhat bigger on the inside than the outside. Here." He pulls over a perfectly normal composition book and sketches out directions, "I think everyone in your little group would like it."
Later, everyone who is going along agrees that this sounds like something worth seeing. Jaeger says he's been previously, but suspects it would be comforting to revisit. Cinnamon happily requests the inn folk pack them a picnic lunch... and then she and her friends head off for the druidic circle. As it turns out, the entrance to it is similar to the little pocket park on Coblyn, in that stepping through the gate is very much like stepping into somewhere else. The sounds are, naturally, quite different -- instead of the bustle of an old-fashioned-but-busy enclave, there's the sound of birdsong and wind in the trees. The circle... really is bigger on the inside. There's room between each of the trees, enough that they aren't going to overgrow one another. Cinnamon's mouth is in a small 'o' of amazement as she cranes her head back to slowly look around herself. Her voice is hushed when she finally speaks, "Wow, this is so beautiful! Are there any druids that live here, or do they just come for... for ceremonies?"
Thorn blinks in amazement as he looks around. "This really is lovely," he agrees. "It's nice and quiet and peaceful! It's like we're someplace completely different."
There are thirteen trees: twelve of them in a circle and one in the center. Jaeger smiles and takes a deep, cleansing breath, "It's always good to find sacred spaces with trees -- it's refreshing. Oh, there are druids that live here and other places in the isles, yes... and they do come here for ceremonies." He steps up to one of the trees and lays his hand on it.
Cinnamon wanders slowly through the little grove, ending up standing beneath the central, 13th tree. She cranes her head back to stare up into its overarching branches, and curiously asks, "Are they all oaks? Do they have mistletoe in them or something?" Looking around more thoughtfully, she can see the trees are all different. The one oak in the center has acorns around its roots, but it's hard to see if there's any mistletoe.
Jaeger smiles, "No. There are thirteen different trees." He pats the one he was touching, "Elm." He goes to another and touches it, "Rowan," and another, "Elder."
Cinnamon's eyes widen with excitement -- new learning! She follows Jaeger around the circle, nodding as the trees are identified for her, and asking questions to see what it is that makes them all unique and distinguishable. She's beaming once they're done, "This is so cool! Is this grove symbolic of the various trods in the UK, or what?" As they're talking there's a rustling on the far end of the grove from where they entered. Cinnamon glances over curiously at the rustling, as she speaks.
A warm baritone voice replies to her, "Yes, it is. Though other trods also have their trees here."
Thorn perks his ears at the rustling, then looks over at the voice. Cinnamon blinks, pushing up her glasses to see the newcomer, "Hello! Who're you? Where are the other trees kept, then?"
The person who comes into the circle is large -- both tall and broad-shouldered -- and wearing a brown robe with a cowl pulled up over his head. There's also a huge froth of graying red beard, "I meant that there are trods elsewhere that use these trees, such as Elm in Germany and in the US, at the very least. There's ivy here as well, but..." he motions to a stone wall, "it doesn't grow as a tree."
Cinnamon grins at mention of Elm in the US, but simply nods politely, "That's cool! So... are you the druid here? We're touristing!"
The figure steps forward and rests his hand on the bole of the apple tree, "I am the master of the grove, yes." He chuckles at 'touristing,' adding, "It's good to have visitors. I think they help keep the trees healthy." He reaches up and pushes back the cowl to reveal a scarred face with blue eyes, "Did someone send you to the grove?"
Cinnamon nods cheerfully, "Yup! Maerlyn said it was unique to here -- something Coblyn didn't have that you guys did!" She adds a moment later, "Oh! I'm so sorry -- I'm Cinnamon, and these are my friends!" She introduced everyone, then curiously adds, "What's your name, sir?"
The druid steps forward into the light, "That's true; Coblyn doesn't have this. There are a few other groves around, but not one on Coblyn." He offers his hand and gives the very mundane name of Roger. The apple tree behind him is in full fruit.
Cinnamon shakes hands with the man, curiously studying the fruiting apple tree -- she knows it's autumn outside in the 'real' world, after all! Puzzledly she says, "Did you just... like, ask the tree to bloom?" Thorn too greets Roger in a courteous and friendly manner.
Roger shakes his head, "No. They're just all... quintessentially themselves -- the very essence of Apple Tree. Or of Oak Tree."
Cinnamon tilts her head curiously, "Huh! So do they bloom all the time, then?"
Roger mmms, "Well, the apple sometimes does bloom rather than bear fruit. It seems to be half and half. Warmer half of the year are blossoms, colder half is fruit."
Cinnamon looks both intrigued and puzzled as she studies the tree... then curiously asks, "How do you keep the malicious mischief spirits out of here, then?"
Roger blinks, "We keep no one out of here. It's sacred, but sacrality has nothing to do with exclusivity." He looks concerned, "Has something happened?"
Cinnamon smiles as she turns to face Roger, "Oh, it's fine now!" She explains about finding the poisoned apples and how the guards are checking for others -- though she doesn't mention any of her friends by name, since she doesn't know if they want to be 'outed' that way.
Roger looks shocked and turns to the apple tree, examining its branches and the fruit clustered there, "Oh. Oh, dear." The apples are indeed green apples. He reaches up to pluck one from the tree, and there's a whisper and a burst of blossom where he picked the apple, "I hope they haven't harmed the tree itself... that could have an effect on all the sacred apple trees."
Cinnamon says helpfully, "Maerlyn had a test that showed if the apples were poisoned or not?" She grins up at the amazing tree, brushing gentle fingers over the new bloom as she inhales the lovely, delicate scent.
Roger nods and then scowls, "Then I may have to take a couple of the fruit to him -- and perhaps some of the other trees' fruits as well. The holly's berries are also toxic. But who would want to contaminate a sacred grove?!" He sounds quite indignant.
Cinnamon shakes her head, "From what I understood, the spirits were just... malicious? Not really directed?"
Roger breathes relief and rubs his forehead. The scars there look like he was raked by something with claws, "I'd still like to have Maerlyn check the apple and the tree."
Cinnamon nods in understanding -- then blinks at the dramatic scarring, "Oh, wow -- are you okay?!"
Roger blinks at the question... then touches his face with a wry smile, "I am now. At the time, I wasn't so sure."
Fraser and Josie are both head-tilted as they regard the big druid. Cinnamon pushes her glasses up, her expression worried, "Are you sure? Are those old? I can't really see -- sorry?"
Roger ahhs and rubs at the scars a little, "Yes, they're old... decades old by this point."
Fraser is starting to move forward; he looks like he'd be snuffling if he were in lupine form! Josie blinks in sudden recognition, "You're... kind of like us...?"
Cinnamon looks interested, "Roger's a werewolf too? Awesome! Can we have a picnic lunch here, if we're polite and tidy?"
Roger shakes his head, "Not a wolf, no. Bear." He smiles wryly and says, "Bearsark, technically, but I've not been in battle in a very long time." He makes a welcoming gesture, "Please, come in. Settle. Eat."
Cinnamon brightens at that, "Whoa, cool! -er, and thank you!" She'll happily settle down under the huge central oak tree, spreading out a large checked tablecloth for everyone to sit around... and, incidentally, giving Josie and Fraser time to chat with Roger! The little dragon wonders happily if Captain Arvid might like to come meet Roger too... or wait -- it's a good bet he knows the guy already, considering how long he's lived!
Fraser ends up speaking with Roger the longest; it's clear they're both in their current conditions due to outside sources -- or at least that's what Cinnamon can pick up from what little bits of conversation she accidentally overhears. Fraser finally comes to join them, "He's been here for at least a hundred years."
Cinnamon smiles up at Fraser, "Invite him to lunch too! Please?"
Fraser hops back up and invites Roger over, and the druid settles in with a smile, "I am a vegetarian. I hope that's not offensive."
Thorn blinks, "Offensive? Not at all!"
Fraser tilts his head, "I thought bears were omnivores?" Cinnamon giggles, then nudges forward the things she thinks are 'safe' for Roger, such as the fresh fruit and the vegetable dishes. There's honestly plenty of everything, really -- Cinnamon made sure the lunch would be sufficient for about ten regular people, after all. Josie and Fraser are both looking with interest at Roger. Perhaps it's that he's an unusual sort of shifter, or perhaps they're both wondering why he's a vegetarian. It doesn't stop either of them from eating the meat dishes provided by the innkeeper, though. Fraser seems especially hungry.
Roger smiles, "You'd be surprised at the people that get upset if you decline food they've offered." He leans over the foods to see what's there, then smiles as he sees there's bread and honey. He happily slathers a piece of bread with honey and sighs, looking up at the apple tree again, "I hope they catch the mischief spirits. The guard did such a good job after the last ones caused some serious injuries."
Cinnamon nods quietly, "We were just lucky we had a magical healer along with us, I think." She smiles at Thorn while Roger's not looking, then has another bite of her sandwich. It's a truly beautiful day now! She's eating with friends, seated in a gorgeous grove of sacred trees, and Shane's going to be okay. Life is good!
Thorn nods, starting to take up a sandwich. Then he pauses and blinks, his voice quiet, "Umm... 'last ones'?"
Cinnamon smiles, "The gatekeeper lady said they'd had the spirits around before, Thorn... remember?"
Roger mms and nods, "Perhaps a year ago." Thorn ohs and nods, thinking... this sounds like a recurring problem! He wonders why Coblyn doesn't attract such murderously mischievous spirits. For the time being, though, he just thoughtfully nibbles his sandwich, letting go of his worries for a few minutes so as to just take in the calm and peace of the grove. There'll be time for chaos soon enough.
Cinnamon thinks for a bit, then cheerfully asks, "So you didn't say -- why vegetarian? Aren't bears omnivores?" She wonders excitedly if this is something that perhaps helps Roger stay calm or something... and if so, might it help Fraser too to do so?
Roger tells his story; he's quite matter-of-fact about it. The vegetarianism is actually pretty close to what Cinnamon expected: he had a hard time controlling his change into a bear and was wreaking havoc. He explains, "I found the druids, and I learned about meditation and about stewardship. Concentrating on taking care of someone else or something else helps to calm me." He shrugs his broad shoulders with a sigh, then smiles, "I am the steward for this grove now. The previous steward reached the final grove." As he's talking, there's some distant-sounding noise audible. If you were on Coblyn, it would sound like it's at least a mile away.
Thorn perks his ears slightly, but keeps his attention on Roger until the werebear finishes talking. The healer thinks to himself, [Sounds about a mile away, if it were on Coblyn? But... with the sound-dampening magic of the grove, that must mean it's... right outside?] He worries a bit, [I wonder what that is?] Cinnamon tilts her head curiously at Roger, "So do you think vegetarianism and meditation might help other shifters with, um..." she manages heroically not to look at Fraser! "-with self-control issues while in animal form?"
Roger begins to reply to Cinnamon's question, when the noise intrudes -- his broad head comes up and his bushy brows come together. He gets to his feet surprisingly quickly, "Excuse me... I think there might be a problem..." Jaeger, Josie, and Fraser are all on their feet very quickly as well. They move almost together toward the gate.
Cinnamon also wonders idly if Thorn will heal Roger's scarring as well. She kind of hopes not -- or at least not until she's not prese- she blinks, looking up in surprise... then scrambles to her feet, "What's wrong?" She checks the food to make sure things that need it are covered, then grabs her drink and patters curiously after the others. Thorn frowns, not liking this. He stands as well, waiting for Cinnamon to finish ensuring the food isn't going to be taken away by the faeries -- or rather, the hungry little creatures.
All the way up to the gate the sound is muffled. Once they get near the gateway, however, they can see there's a clash going on. There are three of the guard o' the watch, but one of them is on the ground. There are a half-dozen smaller creatures that seem to have cornered the guard. They're... hard to see -- about man-sized and a bit lanky, but that's really all that's easily visible. The noises they make are howling and growling, and one of the guards is yelling. It seems to be some sort of cry for help, but it's either a language none of them know, or some kind of code. Cinnamon looks shocked as she peers around the larger bodies of her friends, her voice breathless, "Ohmygosh! They're attacking the guard?! But why?!" She tries to see if the downed guard can be reached, to drag them in for possible healing by Thorn. Thorn himself hisses in soft dismay, giving the warriors of the group the chance to bound forward as he tries to gauge the fallen guard's wounds.
Inside the garden, Roger gets out of the way of the gate and starts to get out of his robe. He's moved into a space that gives him plenty of room. Fraser and Josie head through the gateway, then spread out -- but the pair of them pause, wincing and shaking their heads as if they're in pain. Cinnamon has a better line of sight now, but that doesn't make the attackers any easier to see. She's lost sight of Jaeger, so she hopes she's not getting in his way as she sets down her drink to the side, then patters quickly out to the downed guard. She smiles in a hopefully reassuring manner to him as she wraps her arms around him, trying to avoid bloody areas or clear wounds, "Hi! Let's get you to the healer right away, okay?" She's going to try and drag him back into the grove, to Thorn, if she can. She figures she can ask about the 'why' of this conflict later -- right now the most important thing is to keep folks alive!
Thorn starts to move forward towards Cinnamon -- then hesitates, glancing at Josie and Fraser and frowning. The two wolves are whimpering and shaking their heads, like the sounds the attackers are making are hurting them...? Outside the gateway, Jaeger is watching the battle intently as he searches for a place to step into it. He's not immediately finding one, though... and he's cursing quietly.
The downed guard is heavy-bodied but mostly human-seeming, looking a little blearily at Cinnamon. She wonders, with the weird mental focus of just before a train wreck's crash, if the attackers' weapons are silver -- that might be what's stopping the werewolves? She's tugging as swiftly as she can to get back past the gate. The guy is probably twice Cinnamon's human size, but he's easy enough for her to drag in through the gate, where the sound is once again muffled. When she spots Thorn out of the corner of her eye she stops and lays the guy down -- he's bleeding fairly badly and coughing, but he relaxes almost immediately. Even as she's heading back out, she breathlessly asks, "Thorny! Can you help that guy please and scream if any attackers get near you okay?!"
Thorn nods quickly and jumps forward towards the fallen guard, studying the damage as he quickly adds to Erin, "Pretty lady, please, warn me if one of these guys starts coming towards us!" He casts his magical healing... then sits back and looks pleased -- that felt really effective this time! The guard that was panting and obviously in pain (as well as having lost a lot of blood!) matched what Thorn has seen in someone with a punctured lung. Now, however, the guard is panting and having a hard time speaking... as he's trying to get back to his feet! Thorn puts a hand on the guard's shoulder, "Hold on! You're not in any shape to go jumping back into the fray!" Just then Roger crouches by Thorn and the downed guard. He's built like a bear. He's fuzzy like a bear... and he's wearing linen pants and flat leather sandals. Apparently someone being hurt is important to him.
Outside the grove, Cinnamon darts out to stand near the guards and the attackers, glancing back and forth a bit nervously... then she clears her throat, takes a deep breath... and yells at the top of her lungs, "STOP! NOW!" She really doesn't want to have to use fire -- she'd rather not kill anyone by accident ever again! Her scream draws the attention of at least one of the guards and two of the attackers. The guard steps back to try and get some space... and maybe try to catch his breath. The two attackers, though, just look as if they're moving Cinnamon-ward for another attack! The other four attackers snarl and howl -- and their howl is joined by Josie and Fraser -- as if it's painful to them. Cinnamon clenches her fists and snaps, "Okay, that is enough!" Glancing around herself to make sure she's not about to squish anyone... she angles herself to change shape so that her dragon form stands between the guards and the attackers. Her voice is both louder and deeper this time when she snarls, "So cut it out, you jerks!" She frowns as it registers: these six guys were attacking three guards -- that's not fair! She's keeping an eye out for the guards' arriving back-up, too. She doesn't want them thinking she's the attacker!
Abruptly the small, plump woman becomes a large, irritated, dragon... a large, irritated red dragon -- a large, irritated, red dragon in Wales! The roar and the sudden appearance of something even most of these people haven't seen in decades causes them all to suddenly freeze. In the next breath, the guards have rushed up to either side of Cinnamon, eyes full of zeal. The attackers are still hard to see, but have at least stopped their snarling and howling -- and are instead now jibbering. Cinnamon is not really tactically oriented, so she simply snaps, "You put down your weapons and stop fighting now!" at the jibbering humanoids.
The wound on the guard that Cinnamon saw did look like some sort of deep puncture wound... which to her indicates there must be some kind of long weapon used. It's still hard to see the creatures and their weaponry, though. They're eye-twisting, though their general shape is more obviously humanoid now they aren't actively dancing about on the attack. Cinnamon's order makes some of them brace and lean forward, but three of them drop their weapons -- then shift in a way that says they're thinking of bolting. Cinnamon points a clawed finger at them, snapping sternly, "You boys wait right there! Don't make me flame you!" She adds in more grumbly tones to the guards, "Grab their weapons?" then adds in perplexity, "Why were you all fighting here -- in the catchment?!"
Inside the grove, Thorn blinks as he watches through the gate. "Camouflage?" he murmurs curiously to Roger. "Something to prevent them from being identified? Or are those their normal forms?"
Roger raises his head and peers out the gateway as well, his voice a rumble, "I think camouflage... but possibly a charm or something."
Out on the street, the guards move forward toward the jibbering things, while Josie and Fraser start moving up behind the ones that look like they want to flee. Fraser is doing a good job of snarling despite being human form, "The lass said drop 'em, lads!" Josie is just snarling. They hurt people and they've made her friend angry. Cinnamon glares sternly at the ones who've yet to drop their weapons -- she doesn't like her friends being near them, and she's quite willing to flame anyone who attacks her friends!
One of the guards says, "They'd set up a stall. Trying to spread poison..."
Cinnamon's eyes widen in horror, "You people were poisoning the apples? But why?!"
Inside the grove Thorn growls softly, "So it was them! What-" He closes his mouth and shakes his head, letting Cinnamon interrogate them.
Roger looks at Thorn, speaking quietly, "I can see why you hate poisons. Healers usually do."
Thorn nods to Roger, grimacing, "We've had a few... bad run-ins with poison lately." He turns his attention back to the... the don't-see-me's?
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