[centre][h2]The Foundation of Fragrance[/h2][/centre] [hr] As usual for a night elven worknight, it was terribly, terribly dark out. Seeing as it was also overcast, neither the stars nor moon offered much in terms of guiding light, so even several elves struggled to properly see what they were doing. As a result, many performed their tasks louder than usual to signal their position to the others who carefully maneuvered through the darkness. Rozmari was doing her very best to pluck apart mushrooms for stew - it was luckily a job reliant mostly on her fingers and hands, but it was difficult to see firstly, where she had put the basket she actually stored the mushrooms in, and secondly, where she had put the sharkskin bag she was supposed to store the bits in. She was pretty certain she dropped most of the mushroom crumbs on the ground at this point. Put off by her own clumsiness at work, she decided she had pulverised enough fungi, patted the ground for the sharkskin bag, found it and lifted it up. The unmistakable sound of spongy objects rolling onto the stone below sent a pulse of rage through her. She grabbed a handful and lobbed them at the wall - or at least, what she thought was the wall. “That was unnecessary,” came a murky whisper. Rozmari froze. “O-oh, dear. Cilantra, I didn’t mean to, I--!” A huff silenced her apologies and the huntress made her way over as evidenced by the approaching soft slaps of skin against stone. She bumped gently into Rozmari to signal that she was next to her and began patting at the floor in search of the spilled mushrooms. Defeatedly, Rozmari joined in. “What has you upset, Roz?” Rozmari smacked her lips as if she was about to answer, but then remained silent, continuing to pick. “Hey, you know you can talk to me about stuff.” “Yeah, but… Ugh, I don’t know, it’s dumb…” “It’s about Parslie, isn’t it?” The subsequent blush nearby increased the temperature of the air and Cilantra snickered softly. The huntress offered her a pat on the shoulder. “Why don’t you two just, I don’t know… Y’know…” “I couldn’t do that! He only has eyes for Bay and you know it!” Rozmari almost spoke with her voice, and Cilantra recoiled. “Woah, alright, alright - I won’t pry.” They sat in silence for a minute. Cilantra then made a shrug that bumped into Rozmari. “Althooouuugh… Why don’t you get him something? Something really nice - y’know, so he’ll get eyes for you, too.” “As if… What is there around here but… Sand and, and, and landsharks.” “Well, to be fair--” “You know what I mean,” Rozmari complained and picked up the last of the spongey mushroom bits. She packed the sharkskin properly together and bound it with a length of sinew. As she got up, Cilantra placed her hand on her shoulder again. “What?” “Listen - you shouldn’t give up so easily, y’know. How about you go for a little treasure hunt through the canyon, hmm? I reckon it’ll still be a while until sunrise. You could even bring someone along - have them appraise whatever you find so you know it’ll be good.” “Who would I even bring? What does Parslie even like?” “Oh, I’m sure he likes loads of things. As for who, uhm…” An approaching pair of feet made both of them turn and sniff the air. Cilantra sparked a grin and reached out to pat the approaching elf. “Hey, Basil! Want to join Rozmari on a treasure hunt?” "Oh?" Came Basil's voice, "Are you sure you'd want to bring me?" Cilantra turned the pat into an amiable squeeze of the shoulder and hummed approvingly. “Yeah! It could do you some good, too - you haven’t had much of a chance to just go exploring for a while, now have you?” "I'm just surprised is all," Basil replied, "I know the others have been putting distance between themselves and me since... Well you know." “Well, frankly, I’d like for that to change. You’re as much a part of our tribe as anyone else, Basil - and I know Rozmari agrees. Ain’t that right, Roz?” The other elf didn’t respond, the faint sheen in her shining eyes indicating that she was, in fact, looking away. Cilantra drew an angry breath through the nose and stabbed an elbow at Rozmari, inciting a louder-than-expected cough from her. “Ow! Yeah, sure, whatever.” Cilantra hissed disapprovingly, but turned back to Basil with smiling eyes. “So, what do you think?” Basil gave a hesitant pause before a slow, "Sure, what are we looking for?" “Just, I dunno, something nice, I suppose--” “Roz here has a bit of a crush on someone -reeeaal- special, and she wants to get him something nice.” “Cila--! Ugh!” Cilantra giggled to herself. “Y’know - something pleasing to the ears or nose. Maybe even the touch. Ooo, if you find, like, a soft animal or something, could you bring that back for me, too?” “Don’t push your luck,” Rozmari retorted sourly. Basil popped out of her thinking, "Wait who are we getting this for, exactly?" She turned to Rozmari, "It could help us decide on what to get." “Go on, Roz, tell her,” Cilantra encouraged. “What? No, I--... Ugh… It’s for Parslie…” "Ha!" Basil covered her mouth, "I mean, really? That's so... Nice." “Just… Let’s just go,” Rozmari decided and stomped off. Cilantra gave a low whistle. “Hope I’m not giving you lots of trouble now…” "Compared to the other troubles, finding a pretty stone with a grumpy elf isn't so bad," Basil crossed her arms confidently. Cilantra giggled and patted her back gently. “I knew we could count on you. See if you can find something fragrant. Parslie does have a sensitive nose.” [hr] Further down the canyons, glowing mushrooms and more open spaces made it easier to see, and the duo could to a greater degree rely on their eyes to see where they were going. Above them, owls hooted in the trees and bats wheezed softly at one another as they snapped up unfortunate moths in the shadows. Feline eyes twinkled in the bushes, and critters would sprint in front or behind them every now and then. Occasionally, the trickle of water would signal a nearby beck, and the changes in sensations under the feet revealed every kind of biome from gravel to grassland to forest. Rozmari held the lead, walking quietly for the most part except for the odd groan every now and then. "Is there a problem?" Basil said in that stoic if not stern tone she was known for. Rozmari offered another groan. “No, it’s just…” She paused. “Ugh, nevermind.” "Well now you have to tell me," Basil offered, "You already started." “It’s just… Why? Why am I doing this? Parslie’s already practically married to Bay - or, well, kinda. Either way, this is all just-...” She punted a nearby stone into a small creek. “Just a waste of time.” She blinked at Basil before putting on a frown. “But what would you know…” Basil gave a defensive scowl, "What's that supposed to mean?" “We both know what I mean, [i]prophet[/i]. Tell me, do you have any experience with these kinds of emotions? Or does that thing inside you make you as cold and merciless as it is?” Basil's eyes widened with hurt before settling into a biting scowl, "Just because I don't want to hump the first gravel face that smiles at me doesn't make me cold." She huffed, a hot snap entering her words, "Find your own damn rock, I don't need this." Basil went to turn around. Rozmari gasped. “That’s just uncalled for!” she nearly yelled, scaring off several nearby bats. “You’re-... You’re just jealous because nobody likes you!” Basil flinched, frozen in her retreat. She turned, moon colored eyes stained a frustrated pink, "People like me!" She mulled for a moment, "Bitch!" The execution was weak. Rozmari scoffed. “Can’t even call me names correctly, can you? Just face it, Basil… You’re a looney, aaand nobody likes you.” She spun on her heel and continued forward. “Have fun walking home alone.” "Fine!" Basil barked, "I don't need yoooou." Huffing and purple faced, she began her trek back, brow sunken. She angrily kicked nearby rocks as she walked, mumbling about her various sacrifices. She kicked many rocks. It was no surprise to Basil that rustling came from under one of the abused rocks -- After all, many critters made their homes below the rocks. What was a surprise however was the way the wind suddenly filled with the wafting scent of mint, filling her nostrils and tempting her to find its source. She knelt down, sniffing comically and spinning in a dizzy circle, "Where... Are... Yoooouuu-ah!" Her ankle twisted and she rolled to the ground, head bumping off a pillow of moss. She went cross-eyed as her vision narrowed in on a tiny white flower with long yellow pistils and a thick stem for its size. The tiny flower twitched and turned itself toward Basil’s nose. Then, after shuddering a little, its marble white petals closed around its pistils and a thin cloud of mist shot out of the flower, right at Basil’s face. It smelled strongly of fresh mint. "PFBT," Basil sneezed. Her nose dripped and she sat up to wipe it. With her clean hand she sent down a finger and poked the tiny plant. It twitched and shrunk a little, protecting its pistils with its petals. Basil gave out a thoughtful hum and looked around her for more, seeing the faint shapes of a handful more even in the dark of the night, of different colours and sizes, growing from inbetween rocks and gravel. Grabbing a stick, Basil set to work digging around the first tiny flowers' roots until she had a loose clump of soil with the flower on top. Happy with her prize, Basil rose to her feet and set off into the darkness for the camp. [hr] Already long before Basil had made it back to camp had the strange, yet alluring smell attracted the majority of the villagers. They gathered in a small huddle in front of the main cave, whispering and discussing what the source of this scent could be. It didn’t take long from the fragrance to be tracked to Basil, and Cilantra pushed herself gently to the front of the crowd, backed up by a white-haired elderly man Basil knew well as chief Pinae. Cilantra offered a smile which in itself was completely invisible in the dark, though her eyes revealed it clear as day. “Basil, you’re back!” she whispered joyously. “What did you bring home? It smells… Oh, by the gods, what is that?” "It's a flower," Basil recited and held forward the flower. She had taken the walk as an opportunity to spin the discovery in her ongoing plans' favor and with a refreshed voice she continued, "A gift from a god, no doubt." Cilantra and some others leaned in around it. “Oh, this smell. It’s, it’s just wonderful! Chieftain Pinae, come smell this.” The chieftain, leaning partially on a walking stick with a dog skull fastened to its head, made his way over slowly and gave the flower a whiff. He hummed approvingly and whispered, “This scent… It stings, yet it cleanses me through and through - there is something divine to it, for certain. Dyll, Time, would the two of you help Basil here dig an appropriate hole for her treasure over by the becks? This flower will be a relic of our village - to be tended to every night as though it was a pet!” He raised his stick authoritatively to punctuate his sentence. What seemed to be small rocks within the cavity of the skull produced a maracas-like sound. Dyll and Time immediately jogged over to the beck to begin their work. Pinae placed a warm hand on Basil’s shoulder and squeezed, “Great job, young one,” he praised with a smile covered by darkness. "Thank you," Basil's voice defaulted to its stoicness if not with a tinge of social unfamiliarity. She cleared her throat, "So... How's the... How's everything going? For the tribe." Her eyes bounced in the darkness while she stood holding the plant, "Chief?" Pinae shrugged and scratched at his temple. “Oh, I would say we’re doing well, considering the circumstances. You know how it is - the ibex migrations don’t exactly make it easy to find grub anymore, but at least the cave mushrooms are growing bountifully this year. Some of the kids, too, they… They’ve been making light of the Great Peace. One was playing in the water in the middle of the day earlier. Must’a heard that, right?” As Pinae was talking, he and the rest of the tribe were guiding Basil towards the plant’s new hole in the ground. "I wasn't here last day," Basil admitted, "but that does sound troublesome." “Huh, that so? Were you out hunting?” the chieftain offered. “By the way, please plant your wonderful finding here.” He gestured down into the hole. "No," Basil admitted again, gingerly placing the flower into its new home. She patted her hands and looked at the chief, eyes trying to avoid looking at the crowd, "there!" As if on cue, the soil began to shift. Like snakes below their feet, the forms of several dozen tendrils became apparent as they snaked toward the lone flower. One by one, they surfaced and revealed themselves to be roots. Thick, writhing roots unlike anything they’d ever seen before. They creaked and strained, some of them covered in mud, others dripping saltwater, and many sporting the telltale signs of a root that had dug through stone for a long time. One by one, they reached the flower and covered it. Suffocated it. Strangled it. When the flower was visible no longer, they began covering each other, intertwining in what could only be described as a hasty dash toward the center. As they mixed and strangled each other, they grew still and solid. More and more roots came from under the elves’ feet and they all headed straight for the growing mass. In the end, they settled and what was left was a sight to behold. A large [url=https://candidegardening.com/img/a135b15c-5839-4724-93ee-ab7db0f67b94/cropped/648x520]Kapok tree[/url], a species they’d never seen before in the canyons, suddenly dominated the area. Yet its leaves were different to any other. They were white, and each of them had a different scent. “By the gods,” mumbled the chieftain and went over to a leaf. He plucked it and gave it a whiff, sighing contently afterwards. “It smells… Oh, it smells like Bay’s cooking.” From behind him came Bay herself, rubbing her fingers over the leaf roughly and bringing her fingers to her nose. “Oh, wow, if you think my food smells this good, chieftain…” She offered a warm giggle. Cilantra went over to smell the same leaf, bursting out into a laugh immediately thereafter. “Oh, my gods! It really does! Wow, how is this even possible?” “I guess the leaves she puts in her stew carry similar fragrances,” offered Parslie, who was busily testing the scents of some of the lower branches, sighing happily with every breath. Chief Pinae dunked the butt of his stick into the ground. “Very well! It’s decided. This particular leaf shall be called, uh… Bay leaf.” “Woah, fantastically original, chieftain,” mumbled Cilantra and went over to pat Basil on the back. “Hey. You doing okay?” "I'm..." Basil's face took on a heavy concentration, "going to die a horrible death for this." She blinked rapidly and looked over at Cilantra, "Praise the gods, yeah?" With a gentle pat on Cilantra's back, Basil leaned in towards the chief. "Chieftain, I think it is in our best interest to show our gratitude towards such a blessing by giving open thanks to its creator." Chief Pinae blinked back before nodding. “A fine idea, Basil. We must pay our greatest respects to the creator of this artwork. The, the, the…” He hummed pensively to himself. “... The Roots of Fragrance!” “The Roots of Fragrance?” Cilantra questioned. “The Roots of Fragrance,” the chieftain confirmed proudly. “A fine name for a god, yes?” "The Supreme Giver," Basil encouraged, "The Roots of our Spice, the Roots of Fragrance." A shiver ran down her spine as she gave a confirming nod to the chieftain, "So says." “So… Any of those?” Parslie spoke as he broke into the conversation. “Why not?” Basil crossed her arms. “Hmm? No, I meant it as in, which of those sounds the best. I do like the Roots of Fragrance, personally,” Parslie whispered confidently. “I dunno… Supreme Giver sounds more divine. I’m sure the god would find that more pleasing,” Cilantra pointed out. “Could do both,” Basil offered, “One after the other.” “Roots of Fragrance, the Supreme Giver?” Bay offered midway through making a little laurel out of bay leaf branches. “Ooooh, I like that,” mumbled Cilanta approvingly. “Chieftain, I think we have a winner.” “Wuh? Oh! Right!” Chief Pinae had occupied himself with sampling the lemongrass branches and hastily returned to the conversation. “Yes, what were we talking about?” “Names for this generous god, of course!” “Our generous god,” Basil corrected, “Our.” “Right, -our- generous god. ‘Pologies.” The chieftain nodded sagely. “Yes - we agreed ooooon… The, uhm… The name?” “Roots of Fragrance, the Supreme Giver,” Cilantra said helpfully. The chieftain nodded. “Mhm, mhm. A mouthful, but what is a holy ritual without a long chant?” joked the chieftain and scratched his chin. “Say, Basil, since you found it…” The Roots of Fragrance seemed to swell for a moment, and then the Gift shrunk and exhaled a large cloud of spores. They seemed to hang midair for a moment, glistening against the occasional ray of moonlight that they could catch in that overcast night. And then, they settled on the ground all around the Gift, and where they settled, herbs soon started to grow. Fragrant herbs, suitable for exquisite and exotic cooking. Herbs they had never seen, or touched, or smelled before. Maybe it was the Gift’s way of expressing its excitement for chanting? The crowd clapped their hands excitedly and whispered joyously their praises to the Roots of Fragrance and the Supreme Giver for the fantastic smells enriching their simple camp. [hr] Several hours later, far past early dawn, a sweaty and exhausted Rozmari returned to the camp, her hair a mess beyond compare and the sheen almost completely gone from her eyes. In her roughed-up hands, she held a collection of small, white stones which almost seemed to carry a certain glow in the darkness - or, well, what remained of it. She dragged her feet into the cave and collapsed onto whatever free space was left on the many communal animal skins laid out on the ground to sleep on. Several other elves were already fast asleep, hiding from the sun inside their deep and safe cave. Sitting up against the wall beside her a sleepless Adrian was picking at his teeth with a piece of dried grass. He eyed the ragged elf and casually walked on over to her gathered stones. Slapping one with an open palm he grinned, “For me?” Rozmari jumped a little with a quiet squeal and hoarded the stones to herself defensively. “No, they’re, they’re for someone else,” she whispered as quietly as she could so that Adrian could hear and her kin wouldn’t wake up. “You never get me anything,” Adrian teased and crossed his arms -- a playful glint trapped in his eyes. Rozmari muttered quietly to herself before taking in some drags of the unfamiliar scents about the village. “What, where’s that smell coming from?” “Oh,” Adrian sniffed about, “Basil found a piece of a god, brought it home -- makes pleasant plants.” He flicked the grass stem away, “That’s the skinny of it at le-” A thought forced Adrian to pause. He cleared his throat, “It’s actually pretty important. You see, it is a new altar of worship for the tribe, declared by the chieftain himself.” Rozmari couldn’t believe her over-sized ears. “Wait, Basil did what? A god? Altar of worship?!” Her outburst incited a slap from a nearby sleeper - or attempting sleeper now, most likely. Rozmari whinced and leaned even closer to Adrian. “Where did that little--... Where did she find it?” Adrian racked his brain, “While out looking for gifts, I think -- for one of the tribespeople.” Rozmari sank together into a ball on the fur, facing away from Adrian. With a frustrated, sobbing whisper, she muttered, “It’s not fair…” Climbing onto her arm, Adrian whispered, “What’s not fair?” “She just came along because she had to, then she was super annoying and then the gods decide that she deserved to come home with a super gift from heaven - like, who does she think she is?” “Well she is a prophet,” Adrian offered, “I feel like that is her only real claim to fame around here, it fits.” The thumbling sat down, getting comfy, “Can I tell you a story?” “... Is it to teach me a lesson?” “I think so,” Adrian pinched his chin, “Or at the very least impart some sort of wisdom -- you see the elder back home would whip out a story whenever thinking needed to be done and he had no direct advice. It always worked, but then again -- I’m not the elder.” Rozmari didn’t do much other than nod for Adrian to tell the story, adding a hum when she considered the thumbling might not be able to see her. "Well okay," Adrian started, "So like there was... Okay so my sister Jenny used to..." Adrian waved a hand, "Ugh nevermind -- sometimes silence is all we need." He laid down -- still on her arm -- "Silence... Silence... Silence..." Rozmari furrowed her brows. “That’s it?” "I didn't think you were interested," Adrian folded his hands behind his head. “Well, now I’m not so much,” she muttered back and made herself more comfortable. "Well somebody is grumpy," Adrian teased. “I am furious - now will you leave me alone, please?” came a hiss in reply. “I guess I could,” Adrian’s hidden smile shrunk to a concerned grin, “if you’re sure.” “Absolutely.” "Well fine," Adrian scoffed and pulled Rozmari's sleeve like a blanket, settling into an awake silence. Rozmari rolled her star-like eyes before closing them, trying her best to drift off to sleep. She had suffered a terrible defeat today - and part of her felt like she was considerably at fault for doing so. [hider=Might Summary] The Tree of Genesis 5 MP - 4 DP 0 DP Used to consecrate the Supreme Giver’s Gift, The Roots of Fragrance into a Holy Site, giving it the following Title: Herbal Haven II: The Roots of Fragrance will force all kinds of useful herbs to sprout around it once every week. The herbs that grow depend on two factors. Temperature, and requests from the Night Elf Villagers (And only those with the blood of the Night Elf villagers present during its consecration running in their veins). When it is cold, the Roots of Fragrance will spread medicinal or poisonous herbs, depending on the wishes of the villagers. When it is warm, it will spread fragrant herbs well suited for cooking and processing into spices of all kinds, or slightly magically attuned kinds of herbs. 5 MP - 4 DP remaining. [/hider] [Hider=Summari] You know me... I'm a Roman, of the old styyyyyle. Also Rozmari wants to bang Parslie so Cataracts suggests finding something pretty as a gift. They force Basil to go. Basil and Rozmari fight and split up. Basil finds a fragment of a god in the form of a flower and brings it back. Everyone confirms Basil is best and they make it a thing. Tree god happy, spice for all. Dune worm. [/hider]