Plans for Crumble

[Jim Roberts]

[Feb 6 afternoon – The Godcarvers]

> Tramma grinned. “Well, you’re certainly right there! It WOULD be a lot
> more efficient for me to wash the last trace of that spider goo out of
> your hair if I was in there, too.”
>
> And a moment later, they were, and after a fine washing, Tramma
> finally was able to achieve her wish and gently ply a hairbrush
> through Laquendi’s towel dried hair.

When Tramma and Laquendi emerged from the pipe and drape curtain line to
the more public “House” side of the Pussycats’ Show Wagon, both ladies'
silver hair fairly gleamed in the afternoon sun. It was remarkable what
a bit of TLC, shampoo, brushing, and above all, the removal of any
residual spider goo could achieve.

Tramma giggled when she saw that the audience portion of the House was
not empty. Cuddled up together under the elven captain’s cloak was the
wizarding couple, engaging in one of their shared passions. One that,
perhaps surprising in the opinion of some, could be done fully clothed.
The two wizards, whatever other passions they shared – often frequently
and enthusiastically – were also consumed with a joint fascination in
matters Arcane.

Or in other words, they were consummate “nerds”, something that Tramma
herself could both recognize and respect, though Arcana was not one of
HER major disciplines. But even to Tramma’s non-wizarding eye, it was
becoming apparent that the couple were evolving past the traditional
roles of “mentor” and “apprentice”... though Tramma suspected that the
two would likely keep that fond appellation for the rest of their time
together.

But even a non-wizard like Tramma could see that in more ways than just
the romantic, the two were growing into partners, particularly in their
joint fascination with Magic. In some cases, it was Mithi who was taking
the lead over Finfin, always patiently helping her mentor to catch up…
just as Finfin in turn had helped the young lass advance through the
Arcane Mysteries. And so it was now in the afternoon sunlight, as the
two wizards were enjoying some quiet time together.

Just now, the two were practicing that curious combination of both
shorthand and speed reading, championed by that presumably druidic order
named after the famous “Evelyn Wood’... wherever this holy grove might
be found. Mithi had been faster with the shorthand, and Finfin had been
a bit quicker with the speed reading, but both were helping each other
along. As the two silver haired ladies approached, it was clear that the
elf had finally caught up with his apprentice on the shorthand, and was
now giving a practical demonstration of the speed reading and writing,
transcribing a spell in what Tramma suspected was record time.

Laquendi, meanwhile, had a level of Arcane training similar to the two
wizards before her. SHE could recognize that the transcription being
performed before her was indeed being executed at a remarkable rate.
Mithi held up a gentle finger beseeching a moment more of peace, and a
minute later, Finfin finished his task.

He raised an appreciative eyebrow at both silver hairs when he finally
looked up from his work. “Good afternoon, ladies,” he greeted them
warmly. “You are both looking very nicely after a cleanup.”

Tramma’s incandescent smile was back. “Why, thank you, Fin!” she beamed,
gently turning a full circuit. “Even if your word choice and use of the
adverb form IS a bit unusual.” She sang cheerily, “ She sang cheerily
“ungrammatically, ungrammatically, ungrammatical-L-Y!”

Mithi giggled, even as she too looked up in admiration. “Telidorian will
do that to ya!”

Laquendi, as was happening all too often with her recently freed
hormones, was not at all certain why parts of her were trilling at one
or the other wizard’s admiration. This was… a distraction that she
really did NOT need just now. But even she relented somewhat, recalling
that basic civility did suggest that some sort of a response was called for.

“Thank you, Captain,” the dusky elf replied levelly with a slight head nod.

Mithi took charge over what might have turned into an awkward moment.
“Tramma?” she asked, “Fin tells me you want ta do a quick pop over to
one of them cities?”

The silver haired bard nodded emphatically, the gesture highlighting the
afternoon sun in her hair. “I do! I’d really like to pick up some
things. And if we leave right now and head to Spindrift, I bet we can
make it in time to the Zoological Gardens to drop off poor Crumble.”
Once again she sang a few words as she continued. “‘Carefully,
carefully, careful-l-y’, of course. Do you have the right spells in place?”

“I do,” the elven officer responded immediately. “And I would be happy
to make them available for your use. And getting our polymorphed Rust
Monster out of our hands would be to everyone’s advantage.” He thought
for a moment and added, “Though I would have to use my top list Getaway
for our return.”

“Or…” Mithi cut in with an ear to ear grin, “you could use MY Teleport I
memorized this morning.” That suggestion earned her a “squee!” of
delight from the bard, along with a hug. Tramma had apparently not yet
internalized Mithi’s recent breakthrough to Fifth List Magics.

Once the hug was complete, a proudly glowing Mithi then gave Finfin a
kiss, and for no apparent reason, Tramma followed along a heartbeat later.

“Oi can takes all free of you, if ya wants ta come along, Laquendi,”
MIthi suggested. “We’m due for a supply run any day, but jes’ a little
judicious shopping an’ we kin put tha’ off another day from what somma
ov tha Cat Mob wuz saying. Part uv why I made sure ta memorize Teleport.”

“That would be prudent,” Finfin agreed. Mithi had been briefed on the
recent developments at the Waterworks, and the need to deliver the
kobold scout turned diplomat Beekin to the prospective Upwinder
relocation area currently occupied by the survivors of the Green Death
Kobolds. And of the need to bring Lord Erik the Red into the diplomatic
effort with the Forest People. What was probably less known to any but
the wizard couple, the Abbot, and his clerk Erin was the additional
requirement for Finfin to be elsewhere soon to hold up his end of the
Kamyran Teleport Circle. The next few days WERE going to be busy, even
without the possibility of a call for a new SJE Raid, and building in a
buffer in supplies NOW seemed a wise course of action.

The elven officer glanced up at Laquendi. “Would you like to come
along?” He invited.

Tramma, perhaps unexpectedly, interjected. “Doctor’s Orders, sweets…
remember?”

“I have been advised that another dimensional transport may be hazardous
to my health,” Laquendi admitted. “I will have to reluctantly decline."

That admission earned Laquendi another of Tramma’s soul warming smiles,
prompting the dusky elf to further elaborate. “Oddly, I do not
particularly feel like dying tonight. Today was close enough."

Tramma was once again grinning from ear to ear, apparently thrilled to
hear about her fellow silver hair's desire for self preservation. "If
you were one of those who could abide public displays of affection," the
bard said warmly, "you'd be getting a HUGE hug right about now."

“As much as I appreciate the sentiment, I think being wrapped in webs
has brought me to a point of being ‘touched out’.”

* - * - *

Soon afterwards, the wizard couple were back at the main camp,
discussing the up and coming logistics with the Abbot, and of course,
with his ever efficient clerk, Sister Erin.

“I’ll get ye a standard disbursement for them supplies,” the Erish
priestess said with her usual efficiency. “Come by The Abbot’s camp, and
I’ll set ye up with the funds.”

Quietly, they talked over the up and coming demands on their times and
Teleport Capacities. Tonight’s sidetrip to Spindrift, in addition to
getting Crumble off of their hands, would indeed buy them a little bit
of operational flexibility. A trip for a FULL set of supplies would be
needed soon, and would likely be obtained in Fort Resolute, combined
with the trip to deliver the kobold Beekin, and to bring Lord Erik up to
speed with his diplomatic task. And, of course, a quiet trip to Bar Erain.

Soon after that, the wizards were in the backstage area behind the pipe
and drape curtain line. There, they followed Tramma’s eager wave over to
one corner of the campground in particular. This was the bedroll claimed
by Jeyvalia, the dynamic and vivacious tribal bard who had attached
herself to Jeyshann’s Cat Mob. And after a notable Afterparty, had more
or less moved in with the bohemian free thinkers who made the backstage
area their home.

“I’m gonna kind of miss him,” Jeyvalia said sadly, slipping a bit of
lettuce into a carry box clearly marked “WARNING: LIVE ANIMALS”.

“How is Crumble doing?” Finfin asked.

“Not… bad,” Jeyvalia answered after a moment’s consideration.
“Completely stable now, conscious, and hungry, but we haven’t dared
completely heal him up, just in case… well, you know.”

Finfin nodded sadly. He was instrumental in convincing the Away Team to
spare the Forlorn Rust Monster’s life, but even he had to admit that in
case of mishap and the creature still needed to be put down, having it
in less than full health was wise.

“There were a few arguments between some of our scouts,” the bard
admitted. “Some thought it was animal cruelty to not heal it up
immediately, some thought that it was an aberration that ought not to be
alive at all,”

“Then it is best we get it into specialized care as soon as possible,”
Finfin mused. “Where it can be properly looked after. How is it doing…
mentally?” This was, of course, a loaded question. Eventually the victim
of a Polymorph of this nature would assume the mental characteristics of
its new shape, though that often took time.

“Confused,” Jeyvalia admitted. “And a bit… forlorn, I’d say. It keeps
trying to rust its way out of its cage, which of course doesn’t work. It
does seem happier when I put in some nails in addition to some lettuce
and other turtle food, though of course it doesn’t seem to be able to
get any benefit out of the iron work, and only nibbles on the greenery
when its body forces it to.”

Finfin stooped down to look into the carrier. He was not well versed in
animal lore, so he could not opine if a normal turtle could actually
hiss or not, but that was what Crumble the Turtle seemed to be doing as
the elf’s face came within sight.

“One way or another,” Finfin mused, “by memory or by personality, it
does not seem to care much for me.”

Tramma nodded sadly. “Well, Fin, you DID pick it up off the ground and
held it in place while everyone else pummelled it. That’s gotta leave an
impression.”

“Sad, but true.”

“Lookit the bright side,” the silver-haired bard suggested. “If you had
turned him into an elephant, he’d remember the whole affair more clearly
AND be a lot harder to deal with. And soon, he’ll be delighting the
audiences at the Spindrift Zoo under the care of some of the Empire’s
finest cryptozoologists, eating a carefully monitored diet of only the
best scrap metal.”

“That IS a happier thought,” Finfin agreed.

“Safe travels, Crumble!” Jeyvalia wished the creature, as the bard and
wizard couple began to head back into the main part of the camp that
held their designated Teleport Pad. They could, of course, have launched
from the backstage area just as well, but keeping the inbound AND
outbound Teleports limited to one spot just seemed prudent to all concerned.

“Then let us depart,” Tramma suggested, then shifted to singing,
“Immediately,
immediately, immediate-L-Y!”

“Tha' gag is gonna get old eventually,” Mithi giggled, then giggled even
more merrily when Tramma instantly nodded agreement while singing,
“‘eventually, eventual-l-y’. You knew I was a comedienne when you
invited me.”