Of Spring and Gardening

     Lupecyll-Atlon home, midmorning

Spring is here once again, and that means... gardening. Working in the earth. A respected task, appreciated by a number of both mortals and deities.

Of course, some people do things... differently. The backyard of the Lupecyll-Atlon home is carefully divided into several beds, which are being turned by... nothing at all, apparently. Dark, rich earth is being broken up and plowed by some unseen force. Packets of seeds and a couple small boxes holding seedlings sit ready to be planted.

Telamon Lupecyll-Atlon, archmage, adventurer, and husband, kneels in one of the beds, inspecting the soil. He's dressed down considerably -- an old tunic with no sleeves over woolen trousers and simple sandals, a pair of leather gloves set to one side as he probes with his fingers into the earth. He nods in satisfaction, and hooks a finger -- and one of the boxes of seedlings comes floating over.

Speaking of floating over, a small form slowly descends from above, walking as if descending a stairway. Simony's bare feet touch down in the bed, her toes wiggling into the freshly tilled soil. The breeze flutters the pale blue summer dress she wears, while a straw hat with a wide rim keeps most of the sun off of her exposed arms and lower legs.

"Hi Telamon!" The Goblin holds a small bucket, which in turn contains two small trowels, and what appears to be a few scraggly seedlings. "I brought some strawberries the monastery has been growing indoors over the winter. To get a little head start goodness in your garden!" Her free hand suddenly goes up to hold onto her hat as the breeze threatens to tug it from her head.

Telamon blinks, glancing up. You'd think he would expect more flying visitors, but then he is kind of busy. Then his face breaks into a warm smile. "Simony! Come on down, I've got room for them -- and I know Lana and the pixies will appreciate a new addition."

He turns to look at where two of the beds are apparently being turned by themselves. "Go dig out some shallow holes on the far side of that bed," he instructs the unseen servants. "We'll put them there where they can get plenty of sun and rain." Tel grins impishly. "I like to garden, and I'm not above getting my hands dirty, but I'm not going to ignore my talents."

The Goblin giggles, shaking her head. She steps over to the indicated bed, and settles down onto her knees to dig into the soil. "I would say that is the height of laziness, but one supposes it could also be well labelled as efficient." Small holes are dug out, and Simony begins to transplant the seedlings. "You'll probably have some blooms in a month or so, and fruit just as summer starts to really heat up. Should be perfect, these have been grown for several plant generations. Lots of love and care went into them, and they've been selected for larger berries and more sweet than their wilder cousins."

The half-elf snorts, sitting up a bit. "People will call it laziness until they need it. Besides, I've moved rocks by hand, and I'm quite glad to do it with a spell instead." Telamon watches as Simony carefully plants the strawberry bushes. "Thank you for bringing them. How did they cultivate them indoors?"

"I had someone ask the other day why I gardened at all -- I told them it was good for the soul, if nothing else." Telamon carefully begins placing small seedlings into the rich earth. "I'm growing some herbs as well as flowers this year. Lavender and mint, ginseng and cone-flower. They're useful in alchemy and potion-brewing as well as being pretty." He lightly caresses a tiny green shoot.

"Oh, they carefully cultivate a compost during the warmer months, and mixed that with soil inside. They have numerous daylight spells that they use, as well as a few permanent light sources. They also keep the space inside warm. And, a rather large southeast facing window. So it's warm, the light is bright, and the soil nutritious. Things grow very well in it, and there is a large group of people stuck indoors with an abundance of time. You're, of course, right about gardening. Also, I've learned that variety is not the spice of life, but life is the variety of spice."

Telamon considers, tilting his head. "That would do it. The pixies usually use their powers to encourage our indoor plants, but we keep the pots moist, well-tilled with proper soil, and they're always in lighted areas." He smiles. "Very clever. And much appreciated."

He chuckles at the mention of being stuck indoors. "You can only play so many games of whist during the winter months, after all. I admit I wish I had more room here, expand the greenhouse, but..." He shrugs with a grin. "I am content. Reminds me of when I first started building the garden here, poor Lana and I had just started living together and, well, she got a bit flustered seeing me working."

The Goblin stands to offer a bow, squeaking as the breeze blows right up her back. She crouches back down, looking flustered. "Of course! I like sharing! Especially things that turn into tasty treats. The other monks are sensible people. Growing your own food adds variety, and it is more that they can offer guests and pilgrims. Also always good to have extra sources of food, you never know when you're going to get snowed in. They also grow things during other seasons, but that's mostly outdoors. We have a small herb garden growing indoors year round, but it is spread throughout the monastery, in pots. Some things, like mushrooms, don't need as much light."

Simony's head cants lightly. "Whist? What's that?"

"Comparatively speaking, mushrooms are easier to grow, but you have to remember which ones are edible." Telamon rolls his eyes. "And that covers both the toxic kind as well as the kind that mess with your head. Not what I'd consider a proper meal in either case."

"But there's also the pleasure that comes from growing things." Telamon looks down at the bed where he's planted those tiny green seedlings. "There's a lot of pain and unhappiness in life. I find growing things in a garden to be a balm, and I know Lana enjoys it as well."

Tel carefully levers himself out of the plant bed. "Whist is a card game. Do they not play cards in the monastery?" His eyes twinkle. "I mean, I wouldn't expect them to play for high stakes, but..."

"There is a joy in watching things growing, and not just plants.", the Gobbo replies. "People you care about, for example. Offering help, offering choices and suggestions, the joy of when something you offered is accepted, and works out very well." In total, she plants five little strawberry seedlings. "I had thought to bring some rhubarb, but it will literally take over your garden, despite your desire to the contrary. It's a sneaky plant."

Simony looks bashful for a moment, seemingly disappointed to not know of something that sounds pretty commonplace. "Well, I am sure card games are played furtively, out of sight of the head priest, and well, he can only look on disapprovingly at the guests if they choose to play cards at the common table."

Telamon nods and grins. "I know about rhubarb. I've seen less aggressive weeds. Cucumber isn't as bad but it'll grow in places you'd swear nothing could. Plants can really surprise you sometimes."

He sits back on his heels. "Well, I can't imagine a priest of Navos might be too approving of games of chance and wit. Especially ones that usually involve wagering. Plus, a deck of cards can be a little trickier to hide than a pair of dice. And the best games involve more than just two people."

"Gosh, have you seen tomatoes and eggplants? They just keep going and going and going, if you have decent soil and adequate water. Even the first snows won't slow them down. Some honest plants are harder to kill than trolls and weeds." Simony giggles lightly, and steps over to where Telamon is. "Do you anything for me to plant next?" She crouches down, bumping her little trowel on her cheek, leaving a little dark smudge behind, which matches the smudges on her pale knees.

"Well, the wagering is probably what is disapproved of, honestly. The Raven expects us to be sensible and frugal. The playing of card games isn't bad, especially in the winter months when there is more time to be idle. If one is doing one's tasks properly, then one's free time is one's own. And the head priest may, just may..."

The Goblin's voice lowers and she glances around furtively.

"Have a stick... nay, a whole bush... up his ass."

Telamon gestures, and one of the unseen servants brings over a small tray of mint seedlings. "These next. Lana does love to brew that lavender mint tea... and there's something about homemade leaves." After passing the tray over, Telamon chuckles. "Well, one should never wager if you can't afford to lose. And... let's be honest, gambling can become dangerous in its own right. I've seen it, after all. Losing a hand of whist and a few coppers -- or even silvers -- is one thing. But there's those who believe that they'll 'strike it rich' on the next hand -- and lose everything and then some." He makes a face. "Sometimes, temptations are not born of fiends."

"So I can't be -too- harsh on said head priest. But hopefully he remembers to smile, now and again. Even the Raven knew to laugh, when he could."

Simony happily takes on the tray of seedlings, immediately getting to work carefully transplanting them into holes dug specifically for each one. "Oh, mint tea sounds nice. Something to cool down those summer months, cool mint tea." The Goblin frowns slightly, and then nods. "Indeed, he did laugh. And he may yet again." She falls silent, absorbed in the doing of work.

"As for temptation, I can understand. I know how easily it may push one from the proper path. But if one is sensible, they leave much of their money at home, and only risk what they can afford to lose. And as far as the monastery, you'd be winning the hard earned money of companions and colleagues. Nothing to be triumphant about."

Telamon nods. "When I was younger -- well, not too much younger -- I would play for coppers with father, Uncle Telgari, and mother. I learned very quickly to try and mask my expressions, especially with father." He grins. "Not as easy as it used to be, but he could see right through me at first. I lost a week's allowance once that way. But I learned my lessons."

Telamon is working on planting some other flowers, as he returns to his task. "The fun part about this," he says. "Is that so long as you properly plant everything, there's no really 'wrong' way to do it. And the payoff is wonderful. A simple thing, but I've found some of the best things in life are like that."

The Goblin laughs, slapping her knee. "A few of my siblings figured that out before father could use it on us. A card game called cribbage. We would wager matchsticks. We would act excited when we had bad hands, and get all maudlin and mopey when we had good hands. We'd split most of father's match supply between us before he caught on. He was furious that we'd not give them back. Serves him right for trying to take advantage of our perceived naivety."

"Of course, his favourite denroom caught fire a short time later, and mother banned the wagering of matchsticks. She then had to put her foot down to stop the wagering of coal. Father was a blacksmith after all and had obligations. Also mother didn't want the den to burn down."

Telamon squints. "I... think I've heard of cribbage? Though I thought it was a board game, with little wooden pegs? I admit I've only seen and heard of it in passing." He looks rueful. "Ah, the perils of wagering with combustibles or edibles. Once my friends and I played vingtun for peppermint sweets. This was even before I learned to play for coppers." He laughs softly. "Poor Kordo kept snacking on his."

"In any case, card games are also a good way to sharpen one's attention to detail. Did the knight of swords get played yet, or no? You also learn to watch others, and size up their expressions."

"Yes, you play cards for points, and score them on a special board. Some people use matchsticks of different colours for pegs. But you can wager on your hands. How many points you will score this turn, or if you'll get the two points for his heels, or get a triple of five or whatever." Simony rubs at her chin a moment, before carefully transplanting another mint seedling into its new home.

"It's the only legal betting game allowed in pubs in the Goblintown I'm from."

Telamon arches an eyebrow. "The only legal betting game? Huh. Wonder how that happened. They've never managed to ban dice or cards here -- might as well try to ban ale or wine." He scratches his chin. "And the games are played by both the commons and the nobility alike. I've seen a few ridiculously high stakes games where one idiot had to be firmly escorted from the table before he wagered his entire estate away." His lips quirk, as he finishes planting a row of flowers. "Then again, that's less of an indictment of gambling and more commentary on the idiocy of nobles..."

"Oh Telamon, you don't understand. We had to stop visitors from being fleeced of everything they owned." Simony giggles at length. "We're in a bit of a remote place, but there are ample resources. So there's not a whole lot to do outside of working and gambling." She grins toothily. "You cannot imagine how many cards a Gobbo can hide up their sleeves. And Goblin pubs are incredibly noisy. Tall folks were getting fleeced, and then getting angry. So rules were put into place. If you want to play cards in your own home, that's on you. But public drinking houses can only host cribbage. Everything else is shut down right away."

Telamon just shakes his head. "How disappointing. Fleecing those hapless... ah hells, I can't even finish that. Someone who wanders into a goblin-run tavern expecting a 'straight' game needs a minder. No offense, Simony, but even I wasn't born -last- night."

"But to comment: the idle nobility is notorious for slinging around sums that would even make us hardened adventurers raise an eyebrow. There is a tale of a young dragon who had studied card games, and skinned several young fools to get a head start on his hoard." He chuckles. "Well, I suppose it beats raiding a royal treasury."

GAME: Simony rolls dexterity: (18)+3: 21
<OOC> Simony says, "To inform pose."
<OOC> Simony says, "Only cause she can't do sleight of hand without the skill."

A cackle is let loose by Simony as she steps back to where Telamon works. "Okay, the mint is all carefully planted. What's next?" Simony produces a largeish silver coin from a small pouch on her hip. "Can you find the coin?" Said coin is flicked back and forth from hand to hand, before she jumps, floating momentarily in the air as the coin is flicked upwards, into the air above. Dropping back to the ground, Mony grins.

GAME: Telamon rolls perception: (6)+33: 39

"Let's get the ginseng planted next." As Telamon moves the next wooden tray of seedlings over, he watches as Simony passes the coin hand to hand, starry eyes bright with amusement and mischief. At the end of Simony's little display, he chuckles. "Nicely done -- but the coin's under your left foot. Full marks for effort, but father taught me that one." He rubs his chin. "It's like the three cups and the ball. Chances are good the ball isn't in -any- of the cups -- it's in their hand all along."

Simony laughs and retrieves the coin. "No, it's not in their hand. It's either up their sleeve, or in their pocket. Can't hide it in your hand, cause that's the first place they look. And uh, as a three and a half foot woman, I do not want some six foot human grabbing me by the hand. Though, I suppose now I am strong enough to break their hold, but as an urchin trying to trick people out of their coins, you don't want them grabbing you."

The ginseng is carefully collected next, the Gobbo sniffing at it delicately. "'Course, I could never pull it off, that was for my older siblings to do. They were the terrors of the town. Me, I was sweet and innocent."

"That's why you make sure it's -plausible-. The best illusions are ones that have some basis in reality." Telamon smirks. "But I shouldn't be putting temptation in your way like that. You do have a reputation to uphold, after all."

As the ginseng gets planted next, Telamon chuckles. "I was never... hmm, innocent? I did have a mischievous streak. Never malicious, though." He sighs, thinking back. "It was a simpler time, but... I'm happy with where I am now. Even with the added responsibilities."

"Aww, no, I bet you were innocent at one time. Probably adorable, too." The Goblin giggles to herself, small holes being dug out, soon to house ginseng. "Those damnable eyes." Simony snorts. "Pfff, Some temptations are okay to give into, in small amounts. Like chocolate. Pancakes. Devilled eggs. Hot peppers." Another little laugh.

"So what rackets did you run then, when you were younger? A pickpocket? A confidence man? Nooooo, a highwayman?" She 'swoons' dramatically.

"Whitewashing," Telamon deadpans. "No, really. I convinced my friends to help me paint a fence by showing how much fun I was having." He grins. "It worked out well, though we -all- got baths at the end. And father laughed so hard at it. He said that was when he decided I needed to follow in his footsteps -- if I had that kind of knack, best to put it to good use."

"Why are all your temptations food, Simony?" he quips with a smile. "Although I guess it's to be expected. And at least they're relatively safe." He pauses. "That reminds me, I meant to comment on this. I experimented with my magic boots, but sadly they won't grow peppers."

She drops the trowel in surprise. "They won't grow peppers? Oh no, Tel, they're faulty!" There's precisely three beats before she starts laughing. "Not the end of the world. You leave me some space here, and I'll bring you some pepper plants to grow." Simony smiles brightly at that. "I convinced the others to try growing them. They do appreciate a spicy hot chocolate in Winter."

The Gobbo laughs again and shakes her head. "You convinced your friends painting was more fun that it was. That takes some talent. And uhm... those are the only temptations that I will admit to, Telamon. It's safer that way. Can't give anyone some hints at how to tempt me in a way that may ruin their reputation, or mine."

Telamon chuckles. "I knew you'd say that. But I think I know why. Most people can't live off peppers -- while you can survive for a time on certain fruits or vegetables, peppers won't cut it." He taps his chin. "The boots won't grow tea plants or herbs either, for the same reason I think. Which was quite the disappointment to me. Ah well. Some pepper plants would be appreciated, yes -- though I may grow them in the greenhouse for safekeeping."

"And what can I say? I've always had the silver voice, though it wasn't as developed as it is now. And I've never used it to hurt others. To try and soothe things, bring people together, yes. But not as a weapon."

The Goblin nods. "I'll bring you five, they're almost ready for transplanting. They'll do well in the greenhouse, I think. Do you want sweet pepers, which are pretty mild, you can probably eat them raw. Or would you like really spicy ones, which you should use sparingly in stews, soups, sandwiches and so on."

Simony chuckles and shivers. "I imagine your voice and eyes could convince people to do things they might not otherwise do, and that's not taking whatever magics you could command to compel people. A dangerous talent, Telamon. That is probably why you're ... popular among the Crimson Pen crowd. A kind soul, with a hint of dashing, derring-do and danger. Not what you could do.. but hint of what you might do, if crossed, or if seduction was your game. Sadly those sorts of folks would be disappointed. Which is for the best, honestly."

"Let's go with sweet peppers. I know, I'm a terrible disappointment, but Lana likes to eat too and she has less tolerance for heat than I do." Telamon laughs softly. "It's just more harmonious that way."

He looks thoughtful though at Simony's comment. "Probably. But then... that's also why I teach ethics at the University. I'm sure there's a few smooth talkers in the student ranks, and my lessons on magic use can apply to social skill as well as arcane skill." He snorts at the mention of the Crimson Pen. "I'm sure they'd be terribly annoyed in how pedestrian and ordinary I can be. I have no desire to romance a dozen women; one is -quite- enough, thank you." He absently traces the curuchuil on his hand, and grins.

The Goblin laughs once more, pausing in her planting duties. "Oh, I am sure, Telamon, I am sure. The Crimson Pen makes out adventurer's lives to be far more exciting, and less dangerous, than they really are." Her expression slowly takes on a far away look. "And I get it, one person is more than enough to handle. It's give and take, compromises... trying to compromise with TWO other people in a relationship, a life together? I think it would be rough for someone with so short a lifespan as I, I think it'd turn into a nightmare for someone as long lived as you Sil."

"But... the imagination is a wonderful thing. For some, a hint, a tease, is enough to get by, you know? It's why the Crimson Pen is popular, after all."