Who

Nasrin, Doji, Cremla (NPC)

What

Numbweeding it up in VTOL Swamp Hold!

When

It is afternoon of the sixteenth day of the eighth month of the fifteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

VTOL Swamp Hold

OOC Date 29 Nov 2018 05:00

 

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"The last time I did this I got some in my eye. Wasn't that a picnic."


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VTOL Swamp Hold

This small hold is a solid bastion of stone in the midst of the murky wetlands of the Igen River. However, the constant moisture and verdant crawl of insidious mosses, vines, and clinging plants gives the place a distinctly decrepit and even creepy feel. Stone and dirt paths wind between trees and buildings with a seemingly permanent seep of water emerging between rocks and gravel, pooling stagnantly in any low spots along the way. Living fully up to it’s name, the population of vtols in this swamp settlement is annoyingly high in the warmer months, and the hold Healers have made something of a specialty out of repellent salves, soothing lotions, and bite and sting treatments made from local flora. This is not a locale anyone voluntarily lingers at on a regular basis - unless one was born here. Or nearby.


A steady drone greets any poor soul unfortunate enough to be in Vtol Swamp Hold this afternoon that leave no wonder for where this particular Hold got it's name. But not heat of day or stench of swamp is enough to keep folks away. The swamp edges are practically bristling with people and dragons coming to and fro as a rather familiar and pungent boiling weed mixes with the normal odors of the air. Raktraeth has just arrived and the behemoth brown has to be very careful about his landing. There's a bit of squishing mud as he settles down, but it's mostly solid if he ignores the spot where his tail is draping into the swamp itself. Doji scampers down his straps and sinks a bit herself, but she'll squelch her way over towards solid ground, looking around for a familiar face as she does so. "Cremla?" Is the Weyr's headwoman taking charge here? Or just her minions?

Neither Nasrin nor Rajakhelath abhor the holding of pungent mud and crawling things. The queen, for her part, finds a high point of ledge hardly high enough to be much elevation for a dragon, but it keeps her out of the way and mostly clean. She calls out to Raktraeth in a hooting call two syllables long, relaxing the hold of one wing so it can drape and draw more of the sun. Nasrin, in a baggy fashion of a tunic-length robe drawn diagonally tighter at the front, is holding court around one of three pots. What they prepare today they'll divide between Hold and Weyr. Chiming in to answer Doji, "Cremla's gone to change her clothing. She, well, fell. And it wasn't pretty. She took down Tierla with her." Naming one of her assistants. "Something I can help with?" A full basket of plucked leaves is dumped into that already being stewed.

Once he's free of a rider, Raktraeth gives a short croon back to the junior queen and wiggles one way and then another to make a makeshift wallow in the mud. He's perfectly happy in the mire, although his straps might not be as happy later. Doji blinks as she looks for where the answer came from before finally spotting Nasrin and wincing at the story. "I can bet. At least it's soft?" Or wet, depending on where the headwoman fell! As for why she's here, the brownrider holds her hands in front of her and wiggles fingers. "I hear all hands are needed. I happen to have a pair. Oh, and some bandannas if they're needed." A bright blue and a lovely green one are pulled from a pocket.

Dark reddish mud spatters Nasrin too as if she were near to the headwoman when she had her great fall. Cremla's voice comes from inside a gazebo-like structure with a slate roof: "Nothing fits since giving birth!" Though that was over a Turn ago. "Shells and bells, just give me that sack and be done with it," her voice has dropped a decibel or two. Nasrin drops her eyes and bites back a smile. "Let's see…" taking inventory, "those plants still need to be stripped of their leaves," pointing to the hack work gatherers had done. "I'm not sure how fast they regrow, was that folly to chop them?" She asks Doji, Doji should know, right?

A quick look over her shoulder and Doji's glad to be anywhere not near that gazebo and so she'll seize upon the plants indicated. The former healer apprentice doesn't need much more instructions on what to do with them, although she does shake her head when she spots the mutilated roots. "It's best to just take the leaves and let the plant regrow for next season. Luckily Vtol is warm enough for long enough we should be able to get some plants ready to harvest next turn if they plant early enough…"

"You know," distancing herself from the large cauldron, "I think I will take you up on one of those bandannas…" Nas approaches the brownrider to see if she may borrow one. A faint oil glosses her visible skin and tendrils of hair. Even eyelashes. "The last time I did this I got some in my eye. Wasn't that a picnic." A local youth stuffs a few more pieces of wood under the cauldron to keep the coal bed nice and fed. "That's what I thought… ah well, too late now." The frown focused on the heap of plants is transplanted back to the cauldron. "Who's not stirring!" That, would be Cremla returned in a too-small shift. Someone tried to soften the ill-fitting outfit with some fabric draped like a sari, but on the large woman it looks more like a cape. "I've got it!" Nasrin returns back to her post.

Doji hands over the green bandanna mostly because it's ended up in a pocket that was closer to Nasrin and so it's easier to pass. She lets out a sharp exhale over the story of the pass numbweed mishaps. "Well, at least you didn't need to fetch any numbweed for that particular eye injury?" Seeing however might have been a different story for that afternoon… And for this afternoon, Doji's back at work stripping those leaves and making a decent little pile as soon as Cremla makes her reappearance and trying not to make too much eye contact with that magnificent sari-cape, but she does add some of the extra bandanas next to her leaf pile. It's a bit like a magician's trick, except they're not actually connected.

Nasrin secures the triangle of cloth around her face until she looks like she may rob a stagecoach. "Perfect." Replaying Doji's comment in her head, the junior encounters its jest. So long as the bandanna's over her face, there's less trace of a visible reaction. "I was tempted to dunk my head in the swamp but someone had the good sense to stop me." Then she would have had a burning eye and cholera. Or whatever miasmas lurk in swamp water. Almost getting Doji's name down, "Dodi, you're doing fine, just fine. That's it. Here, let me dump those in…" Tierla intercedes, gathering the leaves before the headwoman can bend and split her pants. "No, let me, ma'am!"

They can all go rob a bank or some store rooms or something, since Doji's also going to be wearing one of those fashionable face-coverings! Even with the partially obscured face, her wince is still evident. "Yeah… that was good. Probably would have ended up with an eye infection that would need even MORE numbweed in the eye." She blinks as her almost-name is called, but surrenders the leaves. As Tierla stops the near-disaster, the brownrider has a flash of inspiration. "Cremla, why don't you go sit on Raktraeth's foreleg? The extra height will let you observe better." And they all know she has the lungs to yell out any corrections she deems fit.

The sputter from Nasrin is a laugh that didn't quite optimally form at the continued numbweed jest. "In all seriousness, what do you put on an infected eye?" Because she doesn't know and Pern Jeopardy may be contestant scouting soon. Tierla tosses her leaves into another cauldron, careful not to encounter the fire too close in her long skirts. "Tierla, doll, don't go up in flames for Faranth's sake!" Nasrin quickly glances to see if the assistant is okay and she is. The headwoman fans herself with both hands and looks at Dodi— uh, Doji. "But he's muddier than I was!"

"Numbweed, but usually not hot. And dilute it a little so it's more of a drop than a cream. If it's really bad, maybe a drop made with a tiny amount of fellis but that would have to be pretty severe," Doji gives a quick serious response to a serious question. A practical walking, talking pharmacy book. As for the headwoman's protestations about the seat, Doji looks back to her dragon and shrugs. "Mostly just his belly." And a little of his legs. "But the offer does still stand…" Not like she's going to force anyone to do anything at the moment.

"That's useful," Nasrin appreciates specks of knowledge she may never use but they're a part of her arsenal all the same. "And for—" the junior's cut off when Cremla nearly slips into the mud again but is saved by precious fate. "Okay, muck or no muck, I need to get out of it. Nasrin, are your arms getting tired?" And whatever answer Nasrin would have for that, Cremla isn't seeing or hearing, she's walking toward Raktraeth. "Thank goodness she's not mundane, would you agree?" Nasrin pulls up the bandanna that's shifted with too many twitches of her facial muscles.

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