Who Turned Off The Blight

[Tolleson]

Even though her hair smelled of cinnamon, vanilla, and sweet pies, the one she carried today was for Drache. A meat pie, one Genny wasn't entirely sure the pregnant woman would like or even want. But cold weather had fallen and from what she had heard or read, the dragon woman would not be keen to come out into the fresh dusting of snow. And wouldn't it be a nice to do, visit her friend, so closed off from her friends that Andre was her only predictable company.

Several others had been spoken to, some with useful information, and most with little to contribute regarding the forest healing druid. But Drache was a wealth of uncommon information, with insight into things unusual and friends in... all places. After a short hike to the caves, a few near falls and piling on the thick, fur lined cloak, Genny arrived to 'knock' at Drache's door.

[Drache]

It was true that Drache had been scarce for several weeks, though there were more comings and goings at her lair than one might expect. Andre and Kira were usually about, though they had been evicted and now resided in the square guard-tower nearby. The Merchant Kals had been by too to talk business, and it was always a fair bet that Zilliah was lurking around, even if he wasn't always on speaking terms with the capricious dragoness. Even sequestered in the depths under the mountains she had begun to meddle. The connections she had made with various traders and craftsmen in town while plotting Descant's Ball were starting to tell, though she tended to use Andre as an intermediary.

There was smoke coming from the watchtower roof and firelight gleamed within. There were two doors, one that faced the downwards slope of the land towards the rather distant lake and one that face the the sheer rock wall behind and the dark doorless crack in the stone that was the opening into the Lair itself.

Perhaps drawn by the scents of baking and pies, or maybe just curious, two horses in a stone-walled paddock next to the watchtower trotted over and stretched their necks out, ears pricked forward. One horse was Andre's, a sleek bay Thoroughbred mare with a flowing tail as dark as her owner's hair. The other belonged to Kira and was perhaps the only thing she owned that wasn't black. A buckskin stallion, stout and muscular with shaggy hair, a stiff mowhawk of a mane, and feral stripes on his legs. Their breath puffed in little clouds as they eyed the piemaker.

The fresh snow was disturbed around the tower, but the last flurries in front of the tunnel were still pristine. Except of course where they had already melted from the warmth within. As the dragon-influenced heat from underground escaped, the ground nearby steamed. If so-inclined, Genny may sense the skin-prickling tingle of magic that permeated the area.

Assuming that the redhead had arrived in front of the Lair itself to seek the half-drake, she would find no door on which to knock. But there was a bell. A golden bell with a polished cherrywood handle hanging from a hook just inside the rugged stone arch. Inscribed deep into the gold were the simple words, 'Ring Me'.

[Tolleson]

Andre's was the more familiar of the two creatures she found to greet her. A beautiful horse she had seen on several occasions at the Dagger's stables. The thought seemed to occur somewhere between the sight of them and the arduous hike to the lair, that perhaps it was time she purchased and kept her own mount. The money she had saved from her days as the Dagger's piemaker could be used for that or a residence in town, perhaps closer to the office of Mister Burnie. But with all the errands and people who needed to be sought out, well, needless to say, she'd added a bit of muscle to her otherwise lanky, flat form.

It was reasonable to assume that Genny sensed the presence of magic, she did pay careful attention to her surroundings after all. Or rather, was forced to mind herself, her long limbs, and where her feet manged to go before they could trip themselves. As she neared she even noticed that the snow did not stick in some places.

Arriving at the front of Drache's lair, Genny could only assume she was being polite. But the beautiful bell was not noticed the last time she'd been here. Of course, it had been a long time since and then she had been overcome with concern for James and the chaos of Descant's ill-fated Ball. In accordance with directions she shifted the weight and balance of the pie carefully into one hand and ever so carefully wrapped her newly freed hand around the wooden handle. With a shift ring she nearly jumped, hands fleeing to her pie as not to drop it; once secured she would take two steps back to center herself in the path. Politely awaiting an answer from Drache, or anyone of her many household 'guests'.

[Drache]

Drache

The stout stiff-maned stallion eventually lost interest in Genny and turned to nip at the mare, who pinned her ears and spun on her haunches to canter away. The stallion gave chase and it seemed that before long Andre's steed would be foaling.

Perhaps it was the presence of the half-dragon, or maybe it was simple luck that the poisoning of the distant lake hadn't spread its black fingers quite this far into the rocky highland. The snow may be already falling but there were still living plants and the scurrying and calling of forest animals to be heard.

But more important was the complete absence of sound from the golden bell. The clacker inside struck the sides, but the soft pealing sounded deep underground instead. The dragoness used her skill in magic for the most unusual things!

Nothing happened for several long moments, but eventually there came a soft sighing of hot air and magic up the tunnel. Even more of the snow nearby starting to turn clear and melt. The results of Drache's spell weren't obvious, but in that moment much of the deadly spells and traps awaiting intruders into the caverns were disarmed. But Drache was getting too close to the end of her pregnancy to allow people inside. Even Kira, her closest friend, was generally regarded standoffishly.

But in spite of Genny's close association with the irritating mapmaker, Drache liked her well enough to do better than ignoring her and leaving her to rot on her doorstep. There was also a scent of food to contend with, and her own natural curiosity.

Moving slowly, Drache eventually appeared, her wings spread to the sides to help balance her inconveniently cumbersome frame. Being this physically ungainly was a new one on her and she was infinitely glad that there would be no repeat of this. Ever. She wore an elegant cloak of very fine black wool lined with silk. It was long and draped her so thoroughly that it was impossibly to see what she was wearing underneath, if anything, though the bulge of her belly was more than obvious. The cloak pin at her throat was silver filigree and set with a large diamond, and the rest of the jewelry in her ear frills and around her wrists, horns, and tail were silver with pearls or diamonds to match. She stopped just inside the opening and her intelligent eyes, fiery against the darkness behind her, gave Genny a good once-over, lingering briefly on the pie. Her nostrils flared slightly. She definitely approved of the gift. Not everyone was polite enough to bring goodies when they came to visit!

"Greetings, Genny. What brings you all the way to my Lair? I have not ssseen you here sssince James left. Is everything well?"

[Tolleson]

Genny always thought Drache a fine lady, the cloak she wore was extravagant and beautiful. It was easy to focus on her once the unsettling magic and wave of heat and rolled passed.

"Oh, yes. Well... he writes," it was a bit of a sore subject. The last she'd seen of James was a sweet kiss good night during the summer months. It seemed forever ago in her memory but still as vivid as the sweet night itself.

Smiling she offered the pie before she offered an explanation. Best to start with something before asking for something in return.

"I hope I haven't... come at a bad time. B-but I was wondering if perhaps you knew of a... nature wielder, er, a druid?"

She would continue on awkwardly, terrible at asking people for favors or for things in general.

"Its just, it seems that there is someone... helping... no, healing the forest. I thought, well perhaps you would know something about a person like that."

"Not that you... I just mean, you know a lot of people."

Fidgeting she sighed with a more genuine smile, it was clear she was here primarily on a mission. Though Genny was happy for a good excuse to see her friend, she didn't want to bother her unnecessarily during her secluded pregnancy.

[Drache]

Drache may have been garbed in finery, but she was anything but a lady. She was polite, however, even though it was obvious she would have been preferred to be left alone right now. Her posture was calculated to block the tunnel behind her, and she didn't show any signs of wanting to invite Genny inside or settle in for a long chat. Genny would have to be blind to not see that she had better say her piece quickly.

"Does he?" The human's somber tone drew some interest, and even a smidge of sympathy. The attraction between Genny and James hadn't been lost on the dragoness. "I know not why he returned to Thesssilane, but perhapsss he will come to realize there is sssomething here he would prefer not to live without. And if not, there are others."

She smiled somewhat knowingly, but would then let the subject drop. Her own history in the area of romance had been a complete disaster, and she recognized an area of expertise when it was completely beyond her. She took the pie into her clawed hands and sniffed it, grayish smoke drifting from her nostrils. She had grown used to the smell of baked pie crusts mixed with sweet fruits and sugary concoctions that made her mouth feel sticky and her stomach hurt. But this smelled delicious and she immediately carved a piece with her claw and popped it into her mouth.

A soft rumbling purr escaped her throat while she sample the pie and listened to Genny talk. An ear-frill flicked. She knew a lot of people? That was more of a compliment than Genny could know, and it was in response to that that she suffered to consider helping when she would have preferred to go back to sleep in her hoard chamber.

But first things first, of course. "Perhapsss. But why do you want to know?" She knew whose pocket Genny was in, and perhaps she guessed that Genny's mission wasn't self-appointed.

[Tolleson]

There are others, what a depressing thought. Though their were several eligible young men, Genny blushed a little even at the thought. But she had done well enough on her own without James before, and even now with only his letters she managed well enough too.

She had no intentions to enter, nor would she have even considered it an option unless invited. Ever polite. As for the location of the druid. It would have been easy enough to lie, in theory, seeing as everyone seemed to hate Burnie. But Genny had no good reason to. Drache was her friend and to her the matter of the Blight was too serious not to seek a cure. The problem transcended personal quarrels.

"Oh, I... er... I am happy to see you and the excuse to visit." Indeed she was, as the pie was snatched and gobbled up it actually warmed her heart, a wide and genuinely pleased smile, pinched by dimples, pressed into the pillows of her cheeks. "Well, I wouldn't have had Burnie send anyone else." And there it was.

In truth this was not the most devious work Glenn could have had her doing. How much Drache had been filled in about the ongoing Blight was hard to say. Likely her household had kept her abreast of the situation and how dire it was beginning to become. Winter was upon them now, in several weeks it would bear down upon in full force. Farmers already raising a ruckus about rubbish crops and whole harvests gone to waste.

"Its just, the forest is dying and there have been reports of areas that have been healed. Mister Burnie believes someone is responsible, and I've heard rumors about someone," she was uncomfortable asking for Drache's help, to be sure.

"Burnie believes we will fare all right through the cold, but my fear is for after the snow melts. There is no way to be sure the trees will recover or crops grow." There was a deep sadness to this, but only in so much as Genny understood the greater implications of a dead forest and what it meant to all the people of Myrken. It wasn't just the loss of green, but crop, income, livelyhoods, even life come a long winter without wood. All-in-all the things she was asking would benefit everyone.

[Drache]

A forked tongue darted out to snatch up another piece of pie, and again to clean the minced meat from her claw. The half-breed was enjoying the custom-tailored treat. She gazed at Genny, nodding her horns and waiting for the other wing to drop.

And there it was, and she didn't seem particularly surprised, and she didn't trouble to hide the derisive snort that billowed white and gray from her snout.

"I sssee." Her tail swished a little. "Well you can tell the map-maker that the foressst is no longer dying. But the damage is done, and without the help of the Tree Guardian it will take decades, perhapsss cccenturies to heal on itsss own."

There was a steely look in her eyes and she was sorely tempted to end the conversation there, knowing that if she helped the piemaker is would eventually play into Burnie's machinations. But she only knew the Druid in passing and had no reason other than spite to hide what she knew of her. Besides, Genny was her friend, of sorts, though with Glenn lurking in the background she would always regard the human with caution.

She flicked her claw impatiently. "Yesss, yesss. I may not be loyal to Myrken but I underssstand the repercussssions of sssuch an unnatural wasssting. My homeland was bessset with calamities that make thisss ssseem like nothing more than a minor inconvenienccce." The blight had affected her too, though not as much as those downhill.

She shuffled her wings and drew them about herself like a second cloak, emphasizing her desire for warmth. How pathetic would it be if the people of Myrken froze with a fire-drake in their midst? She could help them mightily, if Glenn was only smart enough make it worth her while. "I do not trussst him, Genny. Catch likesss to accuse Zilliah of playing the puppet-massster, but it'sss Glenn Burnie who ssseeksss to hold all the ssstrings. Don't forget it."

Her tone was grim and she peered pointedly at the redhead for a long moment before turning to thrust her snout to he north and east. "Try that direction, on the other ssside of the lake. She has been busy and she was not at the Rememdium the lassst few times I have been. Look for a place where the brambles grow too thick to passs and the hunters lose their prey even when their arrows have ssstruck home. She will find you there, though you might have to sssleep in the woods for a night."

She didn't say how she had come to this knowledge. Perhaps in one of her hunts she had discovered the place. Perhaps it was her magic that had allowed her to see. Or maybe she had a wider network than anyone gave her credit. The dragoness turned side-ways and glanced down into the darkness. The pleasant purring had ceased, and Drache's tail swished stiffly, belying her fleeing tolerance.

[Tolleson]

For all her gentle sweetness, trust in Burnie, and respect for the good work she knew him to do; there was more than a shred of concern in Drache's visible reluctance. After all, the piemaker and assistant to the man vehemently defended him at every turn. How disheartening it was becoming to learn Mister Glenn Burnie did not have half as much support from Myrken as Genny would have wagered.

Shifting uncomfortably under the grim expression she merely nodded, not looking for an argument with a friend nor with a dragon. After all, Genny had seen the woman in a fight with dozens of men let alone a girl who could barely wield the dagger she carried. But to this point her brow would only furrow as she listened silently to the directions.

With a curt but polite bow of a nod Genny smiled, it was less heartfelt than her prior one. Days of simple pleasures, the warmth of knowing she brought happiness to people with pies, they had all but vanished since her new post was taken.

A night in the woods, given the recent drop in temperature would be interesting to say the least. But if that is what it took to find the druid.

Drache didn't say how she had come by the information and Genny wasn't about to ask. With a gracious "Thank you," she would take her leave, saying no more on the matter of Glenn Burnie.

[Drache]

Drache

The dragoness bobbed her horned head once more and lingered to watch Genny leave. "Good luck." Then, with a shiver and irritable snort, she turned to disappear down into the tunnels with the remainder of pie in her claws. Traps and adjurations reset themselves in her wake.

---
Lilani

It was cold that night in the woods. It didn't rain or snow, but the dew froze and the moonlight glittered off whatever it reached through the through the skeletal boughs of trees. It was quiet and somber, the few animals who were creeping back unwilling to make their presence obvious. Much of the undergrowth had died and crumbled to the ground to be swallowed into the thick carpet of red and brown leaves, so if Genny bothered to venture off the beaten path it wouldn't take more than an afternoon's hike to discover a place where the plants were still green, branches were clustered with nuts, and she could no longer see very far into the woods. Before long, a living wall of thorns would completely block her path.

As Genny entered an area of the forest that had obviously seen the Druid's touch, the silence around was occasionally broken by the shuffling of animals, but so far only the birds were clearly visible.

[Tolleson]

Genny left Drache, making haste down the hill to avoid upsetting the dragon with prolonged company, especially in the cooling air. Already wearing her thick winter boots she paid good coin for a bedroll and supplies to avoid the long return journey to town, especially since she had come on foot and it would waste another day.

This time in the season and the Fall leaves under a fresh dusting of snow should have still crunched. Rather, the eerie and silent wood was left with the squishing sound of rot underfoot. No birds, no crickets, no scurrying creatures or tracks in the snow. The stillness of the air was deafening. Nothing moved, nothing breathed, even as her toes grew numb in thick winter boots her body seemed unwilling to shiver.

Genny had been assigned many strange tasks, only usually they involved a warm hearth and comfortable surroundings. She'd done her best to prepare for this, but the onset of an ominous evening mist made it hard to tell the sun had set, hard to see ahead, hard to see from which way she'd come; and made quick work of becoming lost.

What was worse, every fetid branch collapsed, caught or jabbed at her with little warning despite the redhead's vigilance to minding her feet. The firey strands had been twisted and pinned into a small half crown, thin and fraying from her previous falls.

She was certainly beginning to wonder how sure Drache had been.

The curtain of night had fallen, stark, crisp and cold; the brilliant blue-white of the moon and stars illuminating the forest floor. It was not until Genny tripped, freeing her bedroll, pans, pack and all. Tumbling down a short hill, her things ahead of her scattering out into thick brambles. Lying face first in a small patch of impossible grass, living grass, Genny realized there was green here. Even in the night it was soft and friendly, identifiable by smell alone.

[Drache]

And truly there was more life here, though it was more heard than seen as night fell and the high clouds covered the face of the moon. Mostly the cool wind creaked and sighed through the trees, rattling bare branches and the already dead leaves. But there were animal sounds, even after the birds disappeared. The hoot of an owl, the hoarse moan of a wolf not so far away, and the unidentifiable shuffling through the spongy loam. And there was the curious deep groaning of shifting wood and snapping of roots and branches as something enormous moved about in the night.

Morning dawned bright but cold, the mist fading only slightly as colour crept back into the world. Nothing had come to attack her in the night, but as Genny got up and moved around her impromptu camp she would find herself watched by a huge fox. But he wasn't really a fox, or a wolf, he was something different. Something in-between. His fur was orange and black like a fox, but he was easily 4 feet high at the shoulder. His overlarge black ears were trained on her, just as his eyes were, but they swiveled occasionally to follow sounds around them. He had a thick ruff of black fur the ran down his neck and over his shoulder, and steamy breath wisped from his narrow muzzle.

There were rumours enough about Hikoti, servant to the Druid, that this creature could only be him. He watched fixedly, as if he hadn't decided is she was a threat or not.

[Tolleson]

Heavy thuds, cries from birds and moans from wolves throughout the night had kept her sleep meager and eyes red. It was fighting off exhaustion that she eventually willed herself to break camp, but little progress could be made once she noticed the creature. Still and staring she stopped and and did the same.

The redhead's hair was free now, the pins had hardly lasted till nightfall the day prior and now her locks hung about in loose, curled strands. She hadn't weathered the night well. Pale and cold to the bone she didn't make a single move, barely breathing under the comforting weight of her cloak. Genny's breath nearly as cold as the air itself, only a trace of warmth in her breath as fog in the air.

"Hello Fox," she mused almost offhandedly, trying to sound as confident and cordial as possible without giving it good reason to attack. Clearly it had already seen her.

[Drache]

Hikoti was oblivious to Genny's disheveled appearance; didn't care one jot about her unkempt hair or her discomfort. There was an intelligence in his eyes, but would the piemaker see that he was more than the wary wolf he seemed to be?

When she spoke he lowered his head sharply, as though he might take off. His legs were long and lanky, those of a species meant to prowl through the rolling grasslands rather than the thick forest. Tail raised and mane stiff, he turned and walked away a few paced before turning back and looking at her expectantly. He opened his narrow jaws and produced a sound that would have fit a creature twice his size. An echoing roar-bark that rolled away until it was lost in the mist.

[Tolleson]

Genny's wild appearance made little difference here, that was true. As for the creature's intimidating bark and onward implications the piemaker stayed still a moment, unsure of what she ought to do. Unsure if she'd come to the right place, of if Drache's information had been right at all.

As it was, it could have been a wild goose chase with an attempt to leave Glenn Burnie empty handed. Less and less was she trusted, even among friends who knew her well. But for all her misgivings about the very real danger of such a large animal, she was alone and it seemed to have at least one better notion of which way to go.

Without much thought of her bleak and meager camp she made no attempt to salvage the equipment, at least yet, assuming of course she would come back. If she could ever find her way. Thus, equipment-less and without a clue as to why she would even bother Genny set about following the wolf-fox.