Aug 23 06:03:31 109 PA - Finding the Spring in Gabriel's Wilderness Refuge
From Chronicles
Aug 23 06:03:31 109 PA.
WILDERNESS REFUGE
She's been busy, taking her charge to guard the area seriously. But more than that, she's been doing prep work. Someone like her, of course, can't prepare room for 20000+ people all alone no matter how diligently she works... But she hasn't been idle. She's gotten an earthen well dug, and some holes in the ground for latrines out a ways. A lot of wilderness debris, rocks, etc, have been cleared from the area, and she's busy digging holes for the insertion of wooden logs in case people want to build some walls. More to the point, she's even dug a few pits, covered over with branches and leaves. Possibly as traps for animal or human invaders. One or the other, anyway. Right now? She's working on another, covered in a bit of dirt, with a crudely fashioned digging stick. Whitefeather the workhorse.
Gabriel arrives over the sight in armor and flying through the sky thanks to his jet pack. It takes him a few circles of the huge area to find Whitefeather, but he eventually spots her - somehow - among the trees, dropping his feet, pivoting and coming in with a blast of air and debris to settle nearby. Raising an armored gauntlet in greeting, he waits until the pieces of nature drop from the sky before popping open his faceplate. "Hate this fucking armor," he comments quickly. An interesting greeting perhaps, but it's what he has.
Whitefeather shields her eyes as Gabriel lands, waiting for the debris to clear as well, then leans on her digging stick, halfway in whatever hole she was digging,"Have you looked into magical protection? There are amulets that are every bit as protective, and weigh next to nothing, Gabriel. You do not even need magical ability to use them. I have seen them, it is so. He yauh ho, Gabriel."
"Thanks, no. I like to shy away from that kind of thing, if for no other reason than it makes me stick out," Gabriel replies. He takes stock of the area which spans multiple tens of square miles, and looks at the holes being dug. Perhaps he was thinking of making one comment, but he makes a separate one, "Nice work, Whitefeather. But two questions for you. First, are you psychic? Second, have you found the source of the spring?" Yeah, why not be blunt this time around.
Whitefeather raises an eyebrow at Gabriel, but actually offers a wide toothy smile,"Aiya, I am. But only enough to speak with the spirits and protect my own mind from intrusion to be honest." She pauses in speaking, and then goes on,"As for the source of the spring, I do not need to search for it. I can trace the path of underground water anywhere within... roughly five miles." She closes her eyes in thought,"Aiya. Gabriel, if I ever fall, will you take Heart Thorn home to my people. He will listen to you. Work with you."
Gabriel removes his helmet, shaking his head as if a model's long hair would be flying around, but his short hair doesn't exactly do that. But it probably feels good. "Whew. Hate this stuff. Um, okay. Who's Heart Thorn, and why would he want to listen to me?" As he steps forward, he breaks out a map - beautiful overhead orthographic, just as he'd told everyone he'd do. "Maybe you can find it, and we can map it." He waits for Whitefeather to glance at the map, then asks, "So your psychic stuff, wouldn't be able to pick up types of magic, or anything? Maybe you could ask the spirits a few questions for me, if they can help me out?"
Whitefeather hops out of the hole, gathers a few bits of dry wood, and begins to start a fire, sprinkling bits of dried tobacco on it,"I will ask the spirits for you." She works on that for a time, humming to herself for a bit, then leans over to look at the map. She begins drawing her finger over it,"My tribes' are much less detailed, done on hide. More crude. But you see, we are here... you follow this line down through these wooded areas, and the spring begins here. Aiya. And Heart Thorn is my bow. He belongs to my people, and he is... alive, you see? The spirit of my people." She closes her eyes in thought,"So what do you wish to ask the spirits?"
"Oh. Well, that was easy. I'd like to see it with my own eyes, though. Make it more detailed, like... my people... draw their maps," Gabriel says, marking the spring only as a general area on the map for now. He can't help but chuckle, though. "Unless Heart Thorn can shoot himself, I'm afraid he'd be out of the bow business. So, spirits? Ah, well I told you that there's a big refugee compound down in the 'Dregs, right? That a gang was trying to take back their land?"
Whitefeather nods to Gabriel,"Aiya. Yes. You have spoken of this before. I do not comprehend or grasp the fullness of the situation's intricacies, but... It seems likely to end in blood." She inhales deeply of the fumes off the fire,"Aiya, I am ready. And Heart Thorn very nearly does shoot himself. Even those who have never fired a bow it easy to use a weapon like Heart Thorn. What's more, he is loyal. He will not turn on his allies."
"Good to know," the man nods. "Maybe I'll pick it up as a hobby sometime. But, more important things. The refugees from that compound, they're gone. There was a bloodbath, but it was entirely from the gang - their own people turned on themselves within the compound, which was empty of refugees. I've done some looking, and I can't find any trace of the refugees. I did hire a mage, though, and he told me that there is a very powerful magic and evil present there. Now, Tolkeen sometimes used supernatural evil to fight, but since the refugees are gone, I'm trying to figure it out. So one question would be, did the refugees cast some kind of magic on themselves, leaving behind a curse? Second, where the hell are they?" He finishes with his hands held out slightly at his sides. "I don't know if the spirits answer questions like those."
Whitefeather tilts her head a little bit,"The spirits answer whatever questions they wish or must. If the feel so inclined, if they feel I have a right to the answer, or if they feel the answer would be beneficial. It sounds like bad medicine, though, so if good spirits know, they will probably tell me, aiya. It is like asking anyone a question. However, when I contact them, I will ask them to tell me the answers to your questions...." A pause. "And sometime when I am less busy, perhaps I will teach you to shoot."
"Not sure that walking around with a talking bow would be very healthy for me either, Whitefeather. But I could try to return it to your tribe," he says. "But here's an option - don't get yourself killed, and you won't have to worry about it. Your spirits, can they answer questions about the future?" Gabriel asks a few questions as he removes his gauntlets, mumbling curses about the superior nature of human touch.
Whitefeather purses her lips in thought,"He does not speak in such a way, brother. I am of the belief that they can see the future however. But whether they will or not... You understand this? It is like speaking to anyone. I am not forcing them to do my bidding. Many white men do not understand this." A pause, and then she says,"I do not plan to die, but I do not plan to take chances with Heart Thorn's future either. He is my friend. Would you do such a thing with a friend?"
"Which thing? Help him out? Of course," Gabriel answers with a smile. "As long as it wasn't getting back at a cheating girlfriend or something. You never can tell with the younger crowd. So what can I ask the spirits? Is it a yes or no thing, or can they be complex?"
Whitefeather actually rolls her eyes in exasperation,"I'm sorry my brother. I do not roll my eyes at you. Yes. They can be complex. In fact, they are often little else. Sometimes, they are so complex that it boggles the mind. I am skilled at interpreting them and their ways. But it can be... taxing." She smiles, though,"As for Heart Thorn... If I were to try to fire on someone in vengeance, I think he would fail to fire."
Gabriel bobs his head. "Well, let's just stay simple for now. I know that your spirits are powerful, but there's no reason to waste their time. If you could just find out what kind of magic and evil is dwelling there, and where it came from, that would be a great help. Also as I said, where the refugees are, or where they're going." He smiles, looking for the bow, adding, "Now see, that's the problem with weapons who only decide to function when they think it's a good idea. I'd call it a misfire, you call it a choice. Fate intervenes either way, so it's the same basic thing." He quickly adds one thing. "Since we're on the subject anyway, ask them what the hell the Family's creatures are, and if they're sick."
Whitefeather begins dusting herself off, kicking sand over the fire, then lifts into the air, about a foot off the ground,"Do you want me to walk you to the spring, or do you wish to fly there?" She stretches, cracking a few bones, then goes on,"Unlike most guns, Heart Thorn does not run out of ammunition, and only misfires if you are not in accord with yourself." She actually /giggles/ for a wonder,"Anyway, just taking him home would be a boon. And do not worry about wasting their time. If they do not wish to help, they will just ignore me, I suppose."
Gabriel remains happily on the ground. "Flying gets me over the dangerous areas, but I've been walking since I could stand. I prefer it. Which way? North?" He points, absolutely nailing the perfect geographic pole with an outstretched index finger. "You up for a little hike, or do you plan on floating there? Looks like we even have some nice berries to keep us from getting hungry on the way there." Indeed, he picks a few blueberries that have taken hold in lower Missouri.
Whitefeather nods to Gabriel, dropping back to the ground as she unshoulders her bow,"I will follow the underground water upstream." She begins walking, actually kicking her moccasins off as she does so. Time to walk barefoot? Around the base of her calf and ankles, there is more evidence of starburst pattern tattooing. Whatever the reason for it, she keeps walking, unshouldering her bow as she does so,"The berries will not last long. I must confess, though, Gabriel... I do not get hungry."
"Oh. That's neat trick. I know how to go without food, but not hungry could be a benefit. You're a real wonder woman Indian," he laughs away. His own feet remain in plastics and composites. As Gabriel continues on, he stays largely quiet for Whitefeather's benefit, but does now and then stop to point out such things as, "If we had the right equipment, that spot on the hill would be easy enough to cut-and-fill to provide some flat living quarters."
Whitefeather chuckles as she walks, stepping carefully as she does so,"Thank you, Gabriel. If you live long enough, though, you begin to find out that the greater wonders are those performed by the so-called 'weak'. I find artists to be wondrous things, for example." She too remains quiet after that, as she leads the way, though mostly from habit. She's a woman who is used to being alone even when near others. Doesn't stop her from responding, though, like when she bends to pull a small sapling from the ground, and cut away its roots,"A more easy solution, cut a home into the side of the hill. I have seen some tribes do this, and with some artistry, it is a very sturdy, warm, safe way to live. Aiya, Gabriel. Brew these roots, and they make a good tea."
"Ah, thanks," Gabriel says, accepting the root. "Yeah, I've eaten just about everything edible, inedible, and just barely not lethal that dwelled on this planet in my time. This wasn't one of my favorites, but I'm happy to get it. It's better than human flesh, I can tell you that much." Yeah, he keeps walking, not minding being led - he knows how to use people's talents to their best. "When do the spirits get back to you?"
Whitefeather lifts a shoulder to the man,"When they feel like it, mostly. When they feel it is best. They have impeccable timing, usually." She keeps walking, pointing the plant as she goes back to walking,"If you brew a tea from it, and give it to a wounded man, he will bleed to death. You have been a warrior for a long time, yes Gabriel?"
Gabriel's face scrunches up at Whitefeather's explanation. He even stays quiet for a little while, thinking on the subject. "Yes, I've been a soldier of various type for quiet a while. Which brings me to the question, why would I give a wounded man a tea that would make him bleed to death, unless it's some kind of assassination of a foot soldier?"
Whitefeather chuckles at Gabriel,"You would not. I was warning you not to drink it if you ever become wounded. You are in a dangerous line of employment, you see. So. Do you ever get tired of it?"
"I wanted to be a carpenter," Gabriel explains as they continue along toward the source of the local spring that supplies the new refuge. "The short form is that war came to me, and I guess I have some kind of knack for it. My time was much better than this one, but with much turmoil - I never really had a chance to stop and choose something else, because there was always something else that needed to be done, and I was the best person around to do it. Y'know, just to be a little brazen about myself for a moment." He picks up a rock and gives it a decent drop-kick. "Lucky me, huh?" Whitefeather wrinkles her nose at this very though, hopping over a pile of brambles,"You always had a choice. You could always choose a different path. 'No matter how straight the gait, how charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.' One of the men of your time said that. I pay young children who CAN read to do so for me from time to time." Apparently she's completely unconcerned with the prospect of time travel. "You would be welcome among many of our bands and tribes, I think. Being a carpenter, especially. I do not know that you would enjoy such a simple life, but should you retire, you would be, you know? You understand community, and work. You are proven and brave. I go on. Luck, though, has little to do with what we want. Like you, I have spent most of my life in conflict."
Gabriel grins. "Luck has to do with everything. You can call it fate if you want. Or choice. But none of us would even have a choice to make if it weren't for the fact that we ended up at that point in time at that one particular place." He flops out one of his gauntlets. "I could have changed, yes. I could have given the government the finger and walked off to become a carpenter, or something else entirely. But would that have been a good idea? Would you turn your back on your tribe if you suddenly decided that you wanted to be a baker, now that they have had years of knowing that they could depend on you to do what you've been doing? I doubt you would."
Whitefeather lifts a shoulder as she dances around an ant mound,"I am not questioning the worth of your decision. I am merely questioning that you did not have a choice. I committed myself to a long service, and I do not regret it... but men cannot help but wonder what might've been, yah? You sacrifice much for others when you have strength that others do not, yes?"
"Having a choice to make and being able to make the choice is different. You wouldn't turn away from your tribe, because people have grown to count on you. Opportunity and ability are different." Gabriel doesn't choose to go into any further detail about himself, at least for now. He waves in the general direction that they've been going. "It would be easier to turn and climb the ridge, find the high ground and go down, than to keep on going up and down these gullies."
Whitefeather holds out a hand to the man,"Aiya. Come here. I will lift us on top of it. It is safer and quicker than climbing." She waits where she stands patiently,"I believe life does not ever give a person more than they can truly handle. It is how it is handle that matters. But I am no philosopher. That is for better men and women than me."
Allowing the conversation to move on, Gabriel only winks at Whitefeather and her invitation to float to the top. "Race you." Then with a massive FWOOOSH and kicking of debris, he's hurtling through the air at high speed, helmet and gauntlets held bravely in his hand. Luckily for him, he doesn't lose control and whack his skull, instead coming into another noisy and messy landing at the summit. Of course, not having a helmet on means that he has to blink and wipe dust out of his eyes for a while.
Whitefeather is not as fast as the bedamned jet pack, so of course, she yelps and LEAPS into the air, flying as fast as she can. She's a little behind the man,"Oh, Gabriel, you are a tricky bastard, aiya!" She waves a hand in front of her face,"I hope you know that device is an abomination. Against good taste."
"No, it's just loud. It was plenty good for spacemen, it's good enough for me," Gabriel grins as Whitefeather lands and makes her comment. "I'm not a bastard either, my parents were married two years before I was born," he says, waggling a finger lightly. "We do what we can, right? I can't flap my wings and fly. I'm sure there has to be something that I can do that you can't. Gotta play with the toys we have."
Whitefeather chuckles,"There is plenty you can do, you see. You know how to use guns. You understand this modern world we live in. There is much you have to recommend yourself, White Man." She says it with a teasing tone. "Most of all, your own mouth."
Gabriel smiles. "I can read, so I guess there's that." Then, he's quiet for a while, obviously listening intently to something before cupping a hand to his cheek and warbling out a call identical to that of one of the red birds in a nearby tree. Grin. "Stupid tricks to entertain kids, too."
It takes a while, but after more hiking, the major spring in the area is located. It is obviously driven by magic of some kind, as there is no decent hydrogeologic or hydrologic or simple reason of physics for such a thing to be so high up on a mountain here the possibility of a perched aquifer is impossible. But one way or another, no matter what creates it, it is certainly large enough and clear enough to supply a large number of people with potable water. Another great find for the incoming refugees that Gabriel insists are coming, despite a complete lack of evidence. The two caretakers move and return to their previous tasks.
