Gemstorm watches Patrick leave and after a brief conversation with the shadow elf who had entered the Inn, goes into the kitchen to see what food supplies could be added to her pack. Finding some travel worthy journey bread and some jerked meat, she added them to her pack, poking around in the stillroom she found some small round cheeses, incased in wax that would keep well also. Two apples went into the pack and that she thought would do. As they could forage and hunt for small game as they went.

Going outside she untied Snowheels and led her around to the stable where she untacked her and turned her out in a paddock. Gelert padded along at her side his tail waving gently in appreciation of the knowledge that he was going too.

After putting her tack up neatly on a rack, Gemstorm checked the dog's barding and harness, then hefting her own gear she gathered her bow and set out to meet Patrick at the lake.

Arriving at the appointed meeting place she saw Patrick already there and hailed him cheerfully. She grinned when she saw Patrick's eyes widen at the size of the hound at her side. She had no idea how he felt about dogs in general but she had every confidence in the training of her own and thought he might be amenable to the hound's presence when he saw how useful the Gelert was going to be.

"Well met, my friend." she declared with enthusiasm. "I am so very pleased to be on errantry with thee and we couldn't have a better day to start our adventure."

"But first things first, what of the list, which herbs shall we be gathering to replenish your basic supplies? For I gathered from your missive that the merchant took all you had, to give you the time to go on this jaunt. I have borrowed a small sickle that will help to harvest them, I think, with all due speed. We can tie them in small bunches and hang them from the tree branches to dry while we go further into the Forest if that would be a good plan to you."

Smiling with happy anticipation Gemstorm awaited Patrick's direction.

He looks at the hound and shakes his head. "You had told me it would be able to carry some supplies...it looks like it could carry half the forest!"

He kneels down in front of the hound and gets greeted with a low growl. Deciding against petting the animal for now, he reaches into his backpack and pulls out a small piece of dried meat which he leaves in front of the hound. Smiling as he hears the happy bark that followed the disappearance of the meat, he turns to Gemstorm.

"I should have the list here somewhere...hold on..." After checking all his pockets and his backpack, he finally finds the note he was looking for in one of his pouches.

"Ah, I knew I had left it somewhere where I could easily retrieve it! As you will see, most of the items on the list are quite easily gathered, though the 2 pounds of dried parsley might require some work. Why anyone would need such a large amount, I do not know...perhaps the merchant has a lot of smelly friends."

He chuckles, and hands over the list. "There is an item on there named 'Lams Viert'. I had never heard of it, but luckily the book has. That's wild Amaranth. It must have been an old name, I assume."

After pausing for a moment, he continues: "While I need to replenish my supplies, I do not think that should be a priority larger than this list or the Rose Apple. I can find most of it as we go along, and anything I cannot find now I will be able to find later. I do not wish to lose any time for anything not related to either the Rose Apple, or that list...well, there is one exception, but you will find out about that in a day or two. If you have brought everything you need, I think we should be on our way. We can get a few hours of walking in before setting up camp."

He smiles and grabs his staff and slides it down a hole in his belt and readjusts it until it is out of the way of his legs and arms.

"Ready?"

Gemstorm grins at Patrick's opening remark. "Thou art not far wrong, he can carry his share of the load and travois it, if necessary." She watched as the tall ranger made his courtesies to the hound which were sealed with a bit of meat to the hound's complete satisfaction.

She waited patiently while Patrick sorted through his scraps of parchment until he found the list of herbs. She laughed when he mused aloud at the merchant's requirement for two pounds of parsley, "Aye but 'tis used for more than ablutions, it has some benefits as well to those unfortunates that have contracted plague.

It is used in funereal preparations as well..and not to forget it can also be used in the kitchen for culinary garnishment.

Peering over Patrick's shoulder, she scanned the list, nodding agreeably, "Yes, we will have no trouble gathering these as we go along. "Lams viert"???" She looked at Patrick questioningly, then her eyes lit up with understanding when he explained it was an older name for wild amaranth.

"Oh we should be in luck then for not only is it rampant in this area, it is also going to seed, we will be able to gather an abundance of it, stem, leaf, blossom and seed."

Adding, "There will be other plants that are also mature enough to be putting out seed at this time of year, I would reckon that you will be easily able to fill the list and more, as we travel. One note about the Rose Apple, it is very likely in blossom now, at least the larger specimens, and another thing we may do to recognize the younger shoots and saplings, the young leaves have a very pronounced rosy cast to them."

Shifting her pack to a more comfortable position, Gemstorm made sure her pouch and small sickle were hanging off her belt securely, and signaled the dog to "heel".

" Excellent, I am more than ready to depart, if you will lead the way, for I warrant thee hast been this trail before and know where you would like to enter the forest proper."

Gemstorm took out a strip of cloth and dotted it with pennyroyal, then tied it around her head to keep off the small gnats that were beginning to swarm about her.

She moved quietly along behind Patrick, occasionally commenting softly on the passing scenery.

"We should have little trouble or alarms from the beasts that inhabit these woods, as they are for the most part living off a bountiful harvest of their own, but one thing we do need to have care for is not to come between any bear and it's offspring. We should have ample warning of their presence in the immediate area and they are not usually active at this time of day but they are the most unpredictable of creatures next to the wild boars."

Falling silent after this pronouncement, Gemstorm concentrated her awareness, eyes moving from point to point and including the hound's reactions to the environment. He would be her early warning alert to anything that passed or approached the party whether benign or inimical.

Patrick smiles as they walk along. Looking around, he inhaled the clean air and sweet smells of the forest. While they occasionally stopped to gather some herbs and investigate some trails, they moved fairly fast and covered a lot of ground.

"In case you are wondering why we are going in this specific direction...this is a route I have found which will lead us to the least wide portion of the forest in about a days march. Since the Rose Apple is most likely to be in the center of the forest, this will be a good route to get close to there without venturing inside the deeper parts of the forest for too long."

He stopped, and peered into the forest. Pointing at something, he turned to Gemstorm again.

"Right there, you should be able to see something glistening. That's a small stream which will be parallel to our route for the next few hours. I would walk alongside it, but there are bears who catch fish there. By the time the sun sets, it will bend towards us and we will have to cross it. I have been there several times, and it is a good place to set up camp for the first night. Besides, there are some things I want you to see there."

Noticing Gemstorm's inquisitive look, he grinned. "Do not worry, it is nothing spectacular...but we will have a great meal without needing to dig into our supplies."

On that note, he continued to walk. Looking up, he realized that it was halfway through the afternoon. Another few hours and the sun would set, and they would need to hurry to reach the campsite he had in mind by then. He smiles again, and picks up some pace.

Gemstorm nodded agreeably as Patrick detailed the route they would be taking, making some notes on the small map she had sketched in her journal and adding a squiggle to mark the stream.

Closing the journal she hurried to catch up with Patrick. "I have some moss here too, drying in my pouch; I hope it's drying anyway, to help get our campfire started." She smiled, thinking, something new to see?..I love seeing new things, as long as they don't bite.

Returning her attention to the task at hand, she increased her own pace to keep up with Patrick. Laying her palm lightly on the hound trotting along beside her, his flews belling slightly as he took in the myriad scents that graced the forest's invisible trails,she praised him softly. "Good fellow." Letting the animal know she appreciated his well behaved demeanor.

Trying to quell her growling stomach at the promise of something delicious..hopefully soon, she was brought to an abrupt halt when Patrick stopped and gestured to a glade ahead of them.

"Ah..." she breathed with some relief, "Is this to be our camp for the night?

A small glade is in front of them, located in the bend of the stream they had seen earlier that day. The stream is small, but wider in the bend, where it reaches 8 feet in width. The specks of silver inside it promise fish for dinner.

The shoreline of the stream is muddy and dark, and the ground moves from sand to rock as the distance to the stream increases. The forest is not very dense here, but a quick look across the stream indicates that it will not stay that way. Looking away from the forest, the stream appears to follow a wandering path before disappearing into a small hill.

Patrick smiles and nods.
"Yes, it is. Welcome to my home away from home! I will give you the two copper tour, but first some preparations are in order."

Pulling a small piece of thread from his pocket, he ties one end to the edge of his staff and the other end to a small hook that came from his pouch. After digging in the soil for a few seconds, he finds a worm and attaches it to the hook. After planting his staff firmly at an angle into the soil, he adjusts the thread so the hook with the worm is about a foot below the waterline.

He walks a short distance into the forest, signaling Gemstorm to follow. They arrive at a small bush filled with blueberries. Picking a handful, he hands some to Gemstorm.

"I have found this bush on my first stay here. Several small animals were eating from the berries, so I assumed they would not hurt me. I always bring some back to the inn...they are quite tasty, and some of my friends love them. Not sure what they are exactly...some type of blueberry, obviously, but not the kind you'd find in the orchards."

He returns back to a more open area and points at a small stroke of what appears to be grassland.

"That is where we will be sleeping. There are no rocks and hardly any bumps there, and the bears do not come to this side of the stream. We will need to watch out for them tomorrow, though."

Grabbing some loose twigs and happily accepting a small bit of the dried moss Gemstorm brought, he starts a small fire. Once it is going, he walks to the stream to get some rocks. After placing them around the fire, he returns to the stream for some more, but is interrupted by a splashing sound. He rushes to his staff, slowly pulls it out of the soil and uses it as leverage to pull his catch out.

After struggling with it for a few minutes, he turns to Gemstorm with a big grin on his face and shouts: "Dinner is served!"

Gemstorm shucked off her packs and equipment, then freed the hound of his accoutrements at Patrick's announcement, of their having arrived at the camping place for the night. Giving the hound leave to explore the area, she turned to Patrick with a bright smile, making a mock search of her pockets for the two coppers to pay for the tour.

"What a wonderful hideaway!" she exclaimed as he led her about the glade, a look of astonishment wide upon her features. "A ranger could live here in every comfort with food and even..Dare I mention it, a comfortable sleeping place; I deeply appreciate the promise of a rockless resting place for the night."

She grinned ruefully, remembering more than one night of her own in the field, where she had been convinced that the lumps and rocks she had not seen upon retiring had been drawn to her backside by some magnetic force of nature.

Tasting the blueberries that Patrick had given her set her off in transport of gastronomic joy.

"Wonderful!" she announced, "they are very like blueberries but still have an uncommon sweetness to them." She winked at Patrick, adding, "Mayhap thou hast discovered a new species and can add it to your list with your own naming..hmnnn.."Patrick Padrin's Exceptionally Delicious Blueberries"..well maybe not.."

Gelert returned after a bit of a gambol of his own and followed Patrick when he saw the size of the fish that Patrick had caught. Receiving his portion of the cleanings, he groaned happily and flopped down near the now cooking fillets.

Gemstorm foraged for more wood to keep the fire going through the night, though it was warm, she thought the fire would keep wild creatures at a respectful distance.

Arranging her things neatly on one side of the fire, she sat down and made some notes in her journal, while she waited for the fish to finish cooking. The evening songs of the forest birds made a pleasant harmony with the purling of the water over its stony bed and the sighing of a gentle breeze through the forest canopy.

Tch-ing at herself, Gemstorm rummaged in her pack and pulled out one of the small rounds of cheese she had brought along. "There Patrick, we may have a dessert of cheese and fruit if it would please you, to finish our repast so graciously."

Settling back with full stomachs and a comfortable lassitude after the day's exertions. The small party enjoyed the evening watching as the shadows lengthened and the moons began to rise for their nightly journey across the star spattered sky.

"I say," Gemstorm looked at Patrick questioningly, "have you ever heard of "tares"?

Mother Speedwell told me a rather horrid story about them. Years ago she was called to a small hamlet where the folk were desperately ill, even unto death, and no one could puzzle out the cause.

It was in the late winter when food had become scarce and dear, and she (Mother Speedwell) thought they had poisoned themselves with some kind of late winter rotted vegetables or stores, but what there was of the food stuff appeared normal, wizened and dried out but still edible.

She physicked those that she could and continued her search for the cause of the illness.

Finally at one cottage she discovered some small black seeds mixed in with the wheat that the goodwife was grinding for bread. Recognizing them at once as "tares" she was able to halt the spread of the illness and deaths.

The truth of "tares" is they are a rampant poisonous weed that grows along with the wheat, and if the seeds aren't carefully separated from the wheat, they will as this hamlet found to its sorrow, cause death and devastation to the folk."

Looking at Patrick soberly, she nodded, "One of many things, it seems we as rangers can bear in mind if ever called where the folk are ill of no immediately apparent cause.

"If you wish, Patrick, you may take first watch, wake me along about the midnight hour and trust the hound to alert us if anything untoward approaches. He may seem somnolent but his nose and ears never sleep."

"Very well, I will take first watch and wake you in time for the ghost hour."

A short while later, Gemstorm was asleep and Patrick finds himself reminiscing of his first days in the vicinity of the Forest of Shadows. A smile enters his face when he realizes how glad he is to be back among the creatures of the forest again, instead of the creatures of Gratalm and Vos.

He never quite got the hang of interacting with people. To him, they are irrational and obsessed with concepts he knows nothing about. Chivalry, for example. And duty and honor.

The vagueness of the distinction between those three words is only surpassed by the vagueness of the actions those three words apparently require from those that live by them. His duty has always been to nature, his honor came from a job well done, and as for chivalry...that might remain a mystery to him forever.

It was far easier when he was young. His parents were part of a small, insignificant band of nomads, who would only leave the great deserts if it was necessary.

They did not know how or why their parents or their parents' parents arrived there, but they would stay there. No matter how unhospitable the land was, it was their home.

When he left, his mother called him the hope of his people. After acquiring enough knowledge about the nature of Pria, he would return to his people and use that knowledge to make part of the desert more hospitable, and a better place to live in.

His father would call him the shame of his people, though never if his mother was within range. He always doubted Patrick’s intentions to come back, and considered him too weak to live in the desert.

Not only that, but in his fathers eyes Patrick lacked the honor to ADMIT he was too weak. Perhaps the concept of honor was still a mystery to him after all.

Patrick disagreed with both. He was not weak; he was simply a different man than his father was. His father could rival a desert elf when it comes to survival and adapting oneself to the desert. This was his talent, and he made more of it than any son could hope. Patrick’s talent was different in some aspects but similar in one: it also had to do with survival.

He was no fool, and had seen the numbers of his tribe drop consistently in his short lifespan. Now, there were little more than 30 people left. Since not all in the tribe were like his father, they would require help in a different way, and Patrick hoped he could provide that.

But the hope of his people? No, that he is not. He merely had a talent which he wanted to improve, so it would in turn improve the chances of his tribe.

This trip could provide a good test for his skills, and an opportunity to learn. If it would bother his father that he would ENJOY himself at the same time, he would simply 'forget' to tell his father about that little detail.

The smile returns to his face and develops into a grin. Barely audible, he whispers:
"One day, father, I will show you that I do have honor. However, I will not be elaborate about all I have done."

He looks behind him and notices Gemstorm is still asleep. The hound, however, is awake. His ears are upright, and his eyes are looking at Patrick.

"Very well, curious one. We will share this watch." Hours passed without incident, and Patrick wakes Gemstorm up for her watch slightly after midnight.

Before he goes to sleep, he grins slips the hound a small bit of dried meat and says:

"Your reward for keeping my murmurs a secret, my new friend."

Sleep comes before the grin fades away.

Gemstorm nodded at Patrick's report of nothing untoward passing on his watch, rising to her feet she stretched, rocking back and forth to get the kinks out of her back. Picking up her bow she walked over to the nearby stream and kneeling down, splashed her face with water, shivering at the night borne chill.

Returning to the camp area, she added a few sticks to the embers of the fire and poked it until it caught, then sat down facing out into the night and adjusted her senses to the surrounding dark.

Gelert padded over and flopped down with a grunt beside her, resting his muzzle on his paws, his eyes gravely regarding her.

"Good fellow," she said softly, patting his noble head. She heard a high keening cry and thought that some owl would dine on coney for his evening repast. The wind that had teased the canopy earlier had died down leaving only the sound of the water chuckling over its mossy bed of stones.

Reviewing the day, she felt satisfied that they had made a good beginning and would easily fill the quota set by the merchant to pay for Patrick's book.

As for the Rose Apple, what a wonder that would be to the folk, who had not likely seen nor tasted one since their great elders time.

She mused upon the many properties of healing, food, woodcraft and other uses unknown to her that the Rose Apple was said to have. If she and Patrick were successful in starting some new groves, and the land was kind, the Rose Apple was even said to be nearly ever blooming and could be harvested for its fruit several times a year.

As she dwelled upon these pleasant thoughts, her nose began to detect a sweet smell, raising her head and looking keenly about her, she scanned for the source.

It was almost cloyingly sweet and getting stronger by the moment. Searching the clearing she noticed a blur of white against the shadow of the darker trees. Walking over toward the apparition, she began to well up, her nose stinging with unshed tears.

The hound lurched to his feet and followed behind but showed no signs of unease. She found a small tree in full heavy blossom, the scent nearly making her swoon with its pungency. Eyes watering she retreated hastily, stifling the urge to sneeze.

"Ach, Gelert, tis the night blooming vervain, which the folk call the Sorrow Tree, now I know why."

She laughed as Gelert did indeed sneeze at the pervasive smell of sweetness, rubbing his snout along the ground in his effort to mediate the effects on his delicate senses.

Going to the stream she tried washing her face to relieve her discomfort, thinking that the small flowering tree must release some kind of pollens that were making her eyes tear and nose run so.

The rest of the night passed without other incident, she felt the change of air that heralded false dawn and adding some more sticks to the fire, built it up setting the breakfast tea water to boiling.

Going over to gently waken Patrick, she saw he had already awakened, likely feeling the change of air that meant dawn was near, though the darkness of the forest had not yet lightened.

She explained her red nosed and bleary eyed appearance when he looked at her oddly, .."and you have never been affected?" she asked with not a little astonishment. The little tree had closed its blossoms at the coming of the dawn to her great relief.

As the light strengthened, she listened closely to Patrick's plan for the day, taking a look at his list; she chose several plants to search for herself and accordingly harnessed the dog and arranged her own accoutrements, making sure the small sickle hung conveniently to her hand.

Patrick wakes up with a great yawn and a sore leg. As he tries to relax his sore muscles, he thinks about the last 24 hours since they left their first camp.

...
The enthusiasm caused by the good start they had until their first camp near the stream was quickly eroded by the heat and humidity of the previous day. Despite their best intentions, they did not make much progress into the woods. However, a large portion of the list of herbs the merchant required was gathered, and hung from the tree branches along the way if they needed to be dried.

The story of Gemstorm’s encounter with the Sorrow Tree occasionally brought a smile to Patrick’s face. "I understand you will not find this very comforting now...but to me, incidents like that are the beauty of nature. A simple tree can defend itself against a stronger and more intelligent opponent, again and again. It is discomforts like these that protect the environment."

They camped in the forest. The howls, grunts and buzzes of the local creatures were occasionally closer than they would like, and both rangers did not get the sleep they wanted.

...
A quick turn of his head to the left and right is rewarded with an unpleasant snapping sound. Patrick frowns, and looks at Gemstorm.

"Since we have a large portion of the herbs we need already, I think today we need to go for distance instead. At this speed, we will wander around for a decade and still not be sure whether or not the Rose Apple still exists.

Also, we need to think about another way to sleep, or a different type of place to set up camp. In a few days, we will need a better night of rest to keep going."

Patrick straps on his backpack and buries the remains of last night’s fire. He pulls his staff out of his belt and starts using it both to clear small branches from their path and to support his weight every few steps as they head off deeper into the darkness of the forest.

Gemstorm felt a niggling worm of uneasiness as she followed along behind Patrick. He seemed to be depending more on his staff as the day wore on. She had noticed he seemed a little gimpy when they had started but attributed it to a poor night's rest, a trifling muscle soreness that would work out with the day's exertions.

Stopping briefly to wipe her sweating brow and re-apply some pennyroyal to her headband, she noticed that Gelert was slightly hackled as he gazed intently into the surrounding murk of the shadowed forest.

Murmuring a soothing "steady, old son" she strained her eyes to see what it was that held his attention but nothing moved larger than some small insects and what she thought was a squirrel running up a tree trunk.

Catching up to Patrick she mentioned the dog's behavior,"...it may be nothing but I would not be surprised if we have caught the curious attentions of one of the great cats that inhabit the wood."

Adding "I think it will just shadow us as they are wont to do but we should be wary and keep an eye on the over hanging tree boughs, if it does attack we must do all that we can to drive it off for it will be fully roused and not afraid of loud noises or other actions that would work against a bear.

Gelert will not stand by idly either as he has met them before."

The oppressing heat continued to build through out the day, Gemstorm felt quite ill from it as she was not at all used to the humidity.

Looking around her as they pressed on she began to have the sense that they were heading toward some swamp, the ground was beginning to squelch beneath her and she noticed a proliferation of fungi which were, she also noted absently, breathtakingly beautiful in their color and variety.

Stopping for a brief rest, she conferred with Patrick, should they continue on this trail or start looking for a track that led upward toward higher ground, and with luck an open glade where the air was moving.

"I think thou must get off that leg also, my friend, for you are forcing yourself and mayhap are injuring it further when a few hours of rest would do more to put it right again."

Taking a sip from her water bottle, she pushed some sweat dampened stray hairs off her face and awaited Patrick's decision.

Patrick looks up through a hole in the leaves to see the air. After watching for a few seconds, he turns to Gemstorm.

"As appealing as moving air sounds right now, the fact that we do not feel any wind here is to our advantage. Look at the clouds...we are moving downwind.

If we travel through an open area, any animal in front of us will smell us long before we have a chance to see it. Until the wind turns, or we change direction, lack of wind aids our defense."

He presses his staff hard into the ground and over a foot of it disappears beneath the soil. He pulls it back up and touches it, then rubs it dry with a piece of cloth.

"We need to watch our step if we continue in this direction. The ground is even less firm than it seems. However, swamps mean water, something we are running out of at a fast pace in this heat. If we proceed, we may find a small brook or stream ahead. We will need to keep our eyes open."

Kneeling down, he opens his boots and tucks the bottom of his trousers into them. He grins. "Our eyes open, but our pants closed. Most snakes in this area will not bite through leather, but they will not resist the opportunity to slither up to open flesh."

After moving a hundred feet ahead, he sticks his staff into the soil again. Pulling it up, he inspects it before rubbing it dry.

"If we proceed carefully and use my staff to check how deep it goes, we should be okay. If the staff goes down more than 2 feet, we change direction. We can take a few minutes to inspect our clothes and boots for anything a snake could enter through, but after that we should be on our way. My leg will be fine...we, however, will not if we have to sleep on this soil."

Patrick takes his backpack off, careful not to get it wet, and pulls out a piece of rope which he rolls around his waist. His hunting knife appears and gets attached to his belt. After checking his clothes, Gemstorm is done too, and they continue.

"Oh...and our four-legged friend should follow us for a while, instead of us following them. As strong as he is, he lacks our height and will be in far more trouble than we are if we hit a deeper spot."

Gemstorm forgot her discomfort and the heat as she followed Patrick's lead and arranged her trews so that nothing could slither up her leg. Snakes!!! Gah! she thought, I am not overly fond of the creatures, particularly the sort that would get up my leg.

Her unquenchable curiosity kindled anew as she realized that here was a new opportunity to learn more of the land. She had very little experience in navigating through swampy areas.

Telling the dog to stay back, she traipsed after Patrick, observing his careful testing of the ground with his staff every few steps. Looking around at the tangles of vegetation she was pleased to note a hearty growth of *FoxGrape* vine.

"Patrick?.." she called him softly, "we need not be troubled for fresh water..look ye..the vine, if sharply nicked, will run the purest water you ever tasted and easily quench our thirst as well as refill our water bottles." Adding,.."it may even be better to use this resource rather than some ground water for that may be tainted unless we come upon a fast running stream."

Poking cautiously at the loops of vine with the end of her bow, Gemstorm satisfied herself that there weren't any lurking snakes. Taking out her belt knife she deftly nicked one of the vines at the bottom of the looping U and was quickly gratified with a stream of clear liquid. Taking a sip she nodded, "aye, 'tis indeed fresh and potable, if you will hand me your water bottle I will refill it for thee."

That small task accomplished, she nicked another vine and cupping her hand caught the water and offered it to Gelert, who happily slurped it up.

Glancing at Patrick, she assured him that the nick was set in such a way, so as to not kill the vine. "Mayhap it will save some other deep forest traveler if they know of such a thing." she asserted with a smile.

***
Waiting while Patrick took another "sounding" Gemstorm was distracted by the sound of "twit twit", thinking some insect was nearby she looked around curiously, Gelert lay nearby his tongue lolling as he panted, watching Patrick, his brow slightly wrinkled as he awaited the signal to continue.

Her eyes narrowed she searched for the source of the small twits. Finally her eye picked out a small form nestled in a tangle of weedy branches at shoulder height directly in front of her.

"Oh!" she exclaimed softly, "little lady what are you doing with your claw all tangled in a bit of cobweb?" Patrick glanced back at her exclamation and she pointed to her find. "Tis a female hummingbird that seems to have tangled her claw in cobweb and cannot escape."

Carefully grasping the tiny bird, Gemstorm picked at the cobweb, gently pulling it away from the miniscule claw. The little bird lay quietly in her hand, its eyes closed, with shock and exhaustion, Gemstorm wondered if the bird would recover or if she would die in her hand from the fearful handling.

Stroking the claw to open it she pulled the last clinging bit free and set the bird back on a tiny branch. Hoping it would flit away.

At first the hummingbird sat there its eyes still closed but presently she shook out her feathers and seemed to find herself in better fettle than she had thought. Lifting into the air she made an unsteady flight toward the deeper woods to Gemstorm's great relief.

They watch the hummingbird fly away until it is out of sight, and then resume on their way. Thanks to the fresh water, Patrick’s energy level is up to where it should be, though his leg is still painful.

After a few more steps, he sticks his staff deep into the ground and almost falls over forward. Clinging onto his staff, he regains his balance and stands up straight again. After a strong pull, the damp soil releases his weapon. He looks at it, and shakes his head.

"End of the line for us...look at how deep it sank into the ground! The soil appears to be getting worse and worse, and if either of us hits a soft spot like this, it would be difficult to get out."

He looks around, mumbling to himself, obviously irritated with the path he chose. Straight ahead just lost its status as a good direction, and left and right do not look much different.

"If we backtrack our way back to where we started, and then try to find a path around the swamp, we will lose the better part of a week. We need a better option."

He thinks for a minute, then reaches into his backpack for the herbal book. Both he and Gemstorm read the text and look at the sketches for clues. After about half an hour, Patrick shuts the book and puts it back in his backpack.

"This is useless. We would spend a week in this book without any help from it. Besides, we are rangers, not druids! The land is providing us with plenty clues, we just do not know where to look. We should get our information from the plants, trees, animals, insects and..."

He pauses for a moment before his face lights up smiling.

"...and BIRDS! Of course!"

Noticing Gemstorm’s puzzled look, he explains.

"Are hummingbirds like our unlucky little friend earlier common in swamps? No, they stay near dry land. Your rescue of the poor fellow will rescue us both. The fact that he was there means that better land is nearby, and the direction he flew to..." "...will tell us where to go," Gemstorm completed. "Of course!"

Gemstorm squinted as she scanned the surrounding thickets and brush.."well the hummingbird went that way," she said, pointing the tip of her bow. "if we can find some animal track through we will have it a little easier but from here it looks like we will have to force our way through the tangle."

An hour of hot work and some backtracking when they were stopped by impenetrable thornbushes brought the little party out onto what appeared to the edge of the swamp and returned them to the forest proper.

Gemstorm sighed with relief at their deliverance from the oppressive and bug ridden confines of the wetlands they had been traveling through.

She had scoured her memory for anything else that Mother Speedwell had mentioned in relation to the search for the Rose Apple, the hummingbird she suddenly remembered was not the only index of nearby flowering trees.

"Magpies!" she exclaimed, and bees!"

"Patrick, keep an eye out for bees and the parti-colored Magpie! Magpies are complete fools for the fruit of the Rose Apple and they are also a propagator of the trees, as they swallow the seeds and then ...you know..." she grinned feeling rather delicate about the details.

"If there are any Rose Apple trees they will probably be in varying states of growth and I think the older of them will be quite large at least 40ft tall. They were reputed to be wonderful for making charcoal in the old days but I doubt if any wood burners have ever come this far into the forest to harvest from them."

As they continued, Gemstorm noticed with an approving rumble from her stomach a good stand of sunpoke and calling out to Patrick said she would bide a moment and dig up some of the potato like roots for their supper. She also noted mentally to keep her bow ready for the dog needed to eat and a grouse or rabbit would not be unappreciated in the supper pot either.

Patrick also grabs his bow and moves in another direction. After putting an arrow on it, he pulls the bowstring back slightly and hooks his fingers behind it. This way, he can pull it back faster if something is within shooting range.

As he carefully walks through the trees, he spots a rabbit. Taking half a step back, he steps on a dead branch on the ground...*CRACK*...and sends the rabbit rushing off before he can take a shot.

Shaking his head, he mumbles to himself:

"This has no use. My leg will prevent me from being silent enough, and with the noise I make now, no animal will come close. I have to find another way."

...
Thirty minutes later, Gemstorm returns and cannot find Patrick. There is however a small pile of the tasty blueberries Patrick showed her on the first day. Moving closer to it, she notices two rabbits, killed by arrows.

At the same moment, she hears a "hi!" from above her. Looking up at the tree the sound comes from, she spots a grinning Patrick on the lower branches, bow in hand, feet dangling. He appears to be held in place by a piece of rope that ties his upper body to the tree.

"In the Inn, a drunken forest elf once told me about this, but I figured it was the ale talking, and did not listen to him rambling on about his trick. Looks like I was wrong! Those two rabbits will provide us with enough meat for the next 2 days. What did you find?"

Patrick stops, as if he suddenly remembers something. After tugging on the rope, he slips 3 feet down before he lets go of the rope again. It stops his descent quite abruptly, causing Patrick’s teeth to clap loudly.

"Oww...perhaps I should have listened to the entire story. I can't get down from here!"

"I....eep!"..Gemstorm leaped back in alarm as Patrick swooped down from the tree only to be brought up short by his tether.

Gelert yelped as she trod upon his paw and retreated to safe distance with a look of injured dignity writ clearly upon his snout.

"Urm..well I see you have had some success as well with the two fat conies lying there." she said as she gestured weakly toward the carcasses trying not to burst out laughing as Patrick swung gently from his bough.

"I found some sun poke roots which will be a treat also..we can cook them like potatoes in the coals or slice them up and eat them as a salad."

Falling silent for a moment she snorted delicately and mastered her mirth, then unhooking the grouse from her belt displayed it, "and a good shot adds this to our booty also."

"Well I don't think that you need to just be hanging around enjoying the breeze Patrick!" she giggled helplessly, "there's work to be done if we would dine like royalty here in our forest kingdom..*snicker*".

Seeing Patrick's slightly frosty glower at this feeble jest after he had explained his predicament inspired her to sober up and see what she could do to release him.

Removing her various bags and her pack and laying them on the ground with her bow, she went to the tree and climbed up until she found the place where he had knotted the rope.

"Ack!..Patrick..you have pulled the knot so tight I don't think I can work it loose..the only recourse is to cut it.."

Acting on that she quickly cut the rope..listening with hunched shoulders and an expression of sympathy as she heard the snapping of lower boughs and the thrashing of a body dropping to the ground.

Peeking around the trunk of the tree she espied Patrick below.."Are ye alive?" she called down to him. "Gelert get away, he doesn't need your tender attentions" as the hound bounced over to lave Patrick with his tongue, relieved to see his friend safely and sensibly on the ground again.

Descending the tree swiftly for she was not sure that Patrick was hale..she knew his leg had been bothering him and hoped that he hadn't landed badly, injuring it further, she went over and helped him up, she thought he looked shaken but not overly stirred by his aerial adventures and helpfully picked a few bits of twig and forest debris off his leathers.

"There you seem to be alright..shall we continue a bit further onward and see if we can find a better camping place for the night?"

Collecting her gear and picking up the grouse she called the dog over and checked his foot, making sure that his paw was not as wounded by her treading upon it as he has made it out to be.

Casting a measuring glance at the bit of sky, visible through the overarching canopy, she turned to Patrick saying.."I reckon we needs must camp soon for it looks overcast and may come on to storm before the night is through."

As he picks some leaves from his hair, Patrick turns to Gemstorm.

"What ever happened to 'ready? 3...2...1...' ?"

He grumbles some more before looking up at the sky. "You are right...it is going to pour. I do not think there are any caves or other shelters around, so we should probably build our own. I think our best bet is to make a 'roof' by tying branches together like this..."

Patrick grabs a twig and starts drawing in the sand. His sketch shows a number of branches from left to right, leaning on a few support branches that are perpendicular to the first set of branches. At the edges, rope holds everything together.

They go out to collect branches of the right size that are straight enough to use. In an hour, they have constructed a small 'roof', about 3 by 6 feet in area. Together, Patrick and Gemstorm tie it between two trees, and fill the openings with leaves and dirt to stop it from leaking.

"I am not sure if that will hold, but it is the best we can do right now. Let us start cooking before the rain falls."

The food proves to be more than enough for a feast, forest-style. What is left of the meat is salted and put in small packs so they may be able to use it later. As night reaches them, the rain starts to fall...

...
The next morning, the rain has stopped. The birds are chirping, rabbits are coming out of their holes, and it appears as if the rain has rejuvenated all creatures in the forest...with the possible exception of 2 soaking wet people and an equally moist hound.

As they make their way to the forest, one could hear the woman saying "the damn roof washed away before the drawing of it did".

Trailing along behind Patrick, Gemstorm reflected crabbily on the previous night. Awakened by a sudden deluge of twigs, dirt and leaves and spending the rest of the night huddled disconsolately under the dripping forest canopy had not improved her disposition by one whit either.

Casting a menacing glare at a too perky little bird hopping along a near-by branch she didn't see the other branch hanging over the trail that snared her braid and brought her to a sudden halt.

Scalp stinging from the yank she swore softly and dropped her bow to use both hands to untangle herself. Gelert being wise to her irritable mood slipped around her and continued up the trail.

Patrick glanced back as the hound drew up behind him but seeing that Gemstorm had not fallen into a pit or been accosted by something with intent to do her bodily harm, shrugged and went on.

Gemstorm finally unpicked her braid and hurried to catch up to her companions. Snorting with umbrage at their callous disregard for her troubles she was unable to think of a pithy remark and subsided to glower quietly, as the day wound on and the heat and humidity rose.

Several days passed without incident. The two rangers made their way deeper into the Forest of Shadows, where the foliage is more thick and mushrooms are more common than flowers.

The extra shade provided them with a bit of relief from the sun, but made the air more damp and lowered visibility.

As a result, Patrick and Gemstorm had to stop for the night earlier and found it more and more difficult to get going again in the morning. Also, there appeared to be more bees, which got their attention...both because they were an indication that they may get closer to the Rose Apple, and because they were itching every morning.

...
"I do not think anyone has been here for decades. If the Rose Apple still exists, it could...damnit!"

Patrick slaps the back of his neck a moment too late. As a bee flies off into safety, he feels an itch coming up almost immediately.

"No wonder no one has been here for decades! I am starting to feel like a pincushion...'Follow the bees'. Well, we are...and they are following us right back!"

Patrick grumbles some more as they make their way deeper into the forest.

Gemstorm slumped against a tree trunk wiping her dripping face with her soaked sleeve, the forest steamed, mist rising from the wet foliage, muted sound and limited vision, making it seem as though she was passing through some torrid dreamscape.

Patrick ghosted ahead of her, a blur of moving shadow quickly vanishing into the distance as the old track they had stumbled onto, took a sharp turn.

Wearily slapping at yet another sweat bee, she shrugged her pack up higher on her back and signaling the hound, resumed her stolid march. Her only consolation was the knowledge that the Rose Apple was said to thrive best under tropical conditions.

"It doesn't get anymore tropical than this benighted part of this poxy forest!" she groused aloud to the uncaring air. Gelert flicked a glance back at her, woofing inquiringly.

Shaking her head at the dog she laughed softly.."tis nothing friend, only a bit of a whinge for I fear I desperately long for the wide open windy plains this morning."

Her thoughts turned on that, she wondered how her friends and relatives were doing on the Northern Plains and whatever was happening with Ranger Decky?

..She decided she would thoroughly pounce him the moment she spied him when she returned to the Inn.

Lost in these thoughts she blindly stumbled into Patrick's back as he stopped in front of her without warning.

Somewhat rattled she blurted out.."Patrick if we don't find the Rose Apple soon I fear we must start back for the herbs and plants we have already gathered and left to dry in the first part of our journey will wither away before much longer and that much of our effort will be for naught!"

Continuing in the face of Patrick's patient silence, "If specimens remain anywhere in the land then we should come upon them here, somewhere, for this oppressive heat and wet are said to be their prime growing conditions and we are so beset with bees as well as being whizzed by hummingbirds that 'SOMETHING" is in riotous bloom around here."

Waving her arm around in a broad sweep of the foggy surroundings she cast a mutinous glance up at Patrick as if she thought they could will the tree into existence.

They make their way through the forest, slashing away at the vines in their path with hunting knives. As the sun begins to set, Patrick stops and leans against a tree, rubbing his knee.

While the pain in his left leg was now manageable, the moist air and the arduous walks prevent it from healing.

"Shall we set up camp for the night?" Gemstorm asks. Patrick shakes his head and continues to walk, not willing to stop for an aching leg. They move further for half an hour, despite of the twilight catching up with them. As they finally stop and look around, Gelert begins to growl at some bushes they had walked past.

"It looks like the third member of our party is getting weary of walking as well...his mood is turning for the worst. Perhaps we should..." Patrick stops in mid-sentence, reaches for his bow and fires off an arrow. It lands two seconds after Gemstorm’s arrow lands. However, they both miss the... "Wild boars!!!"

Patrick drops his bow, turns around and rushes away from the charging animals, cursing the vines that try to trip him at every step. Gemstorm dashes by him, looking back over her shoulder at their chasers. Despite of Gelerts efforts to steer the boars away from the two rangers, the boars are getting closer with every step...

Seeing the wild boars paralyzed Gemstorm for a split second..her mind raced but no saving scheme occurred to her that would be effective against these creatures.

Letting her feet take over she fled, leaping over bushes and tearing through the ubiquitous vines, passing Patrick she cast a wild glance back at him, yelling "trees!..climb a tree!

Bursting through a tangle of thickets she spied a convenient looking tree and pelted toward it, her backside prickling with the unpleasant phantom sensation of being tusked by one of the maddened boars.

Making a desperate jump she grabbed a low hanging branch and scrabbled her way up on to it, the boar rearing beneath her and nearly hooking her leg as she swung it out of harm's way.

Gulping with fear she quickly climbed up a few more boughs to put as much air between her and her new "friend" as possible.

Shaking the hair out of her eyes, she anxiously scanned the ground and nearby trees for signs of Patrick. She could hear Gelert yelping and baying from the murky underbrush and the impassioned ragings of the boars.

"PATRICK! PATRICK! are ye safe?" she screamed, to be heard over the baying hound and squalling hogs. She felt her heart hammering in her chest as she listened for any reply or hail from Patrick. A few moments passed with no reassuring reply then she spotted a hand waving from a neighboring tree.

Putting her hand to her chest with relief and to soothe her churning emotions, she sagged limply against the trunk of her temporary harbor .

"Well we certainly are in a pickle now!" she called over to him.."let's just hope that Gelert will harry them enough to get them out of here or I fancy we will be spending the night clinging to our airy bowers."

"And won't that be a delight." she added dourly." lullabyed by the grunting of wild hogs..oh this is such a joy!"

Returning her attention to the ground she noted she was being circled by a particularly unpleasant looking old boar, he was grizzled and sporting only one working tush, the other broken and snaggled.

Gelert suddenly broke through some brush and came galloping toward it, running up and snapping at its hindquarters, the boar swiftly turned on the hound and made a sweep with it good tush, but Gelert, ready for that maneuver lithely leaped aside, the boar lowered it's head and glared at the hound through rage reddened little eyes.

Suddenly it could contain its ire no longer and it charged the dog, but Gelert was already away, foiling it yet again.

Gemstorm absently noted, with not a little pride, how neatly Gelert was beginning to work the boar away from her tree.. and why? she wondered were there two adult boars together..seemed rather unlikely but then she knew very little about the forest boars, on the plains there were herds of peccaries but they were relatively small and unless one accidentally fell off one's horse in the middle of a group of them, of no particular consequence to life and limb.

"Patrick?..I think that Gelert will harry them away from us, and once they are after him we can descend and get safely out of this area.

If these two hogs are a pair of some kind they will both be after the dog as we are of no interest to them now that we are out of their view."

****
A short time later, the sound of the dog and the squalling of the hogs had diminished into silence, Gemstorm cautiously descended her tree and once on the ground peered into the lowering late afternoon gloom but saw nothing untoward in the immediate area.

Patrick joined her asking if the dog would be alright. "Yes he is faster than they could ever be and understands well what he is about. He will catch up to us once he has satisfied his offended sensibilities about pigs."

Resuming their trail, Patrick noted they were somewhat astray from the track they had been forging along when they were attacked by the wild hogs.

The flight from the boars had sent them off on in whatever direction their panicking feet led and now they were hard on the heels of the oncoming evening.

Following the path of least resistance, they broke through a barrier of thorny vines into what appeared to be a spacious open glade, dotted with white flowered trees and still resonating with the hum of a multitude of late working bees.

"ummmm...Patrick?.....Gemstorm gestured at the pleasant woodland scene and looked sideways at her companion.."ummm..ya think?"

Patrick brushes what appears to be an entire tree from his clothes and turns to Gemstorm. "I think...what? That there are far too many bees here? That I am glad wild boars do not journey to the inn often? That..."

A sharp elbow in his rubs cuts off Patrick’s complaints in mid-sentence, and a pointed finger shows Patrick what Gemstorm noticed a minute earlier. "Could it be? Wait..."

Patrick reaches into his backpack to grab the book that brought them on this venture in the first place, and opens it on a page that has the edge folded to indicate something important. Comparing the tree in front of them with the sketch in the book, he smiles through a look of awe.

"It exists!"

...
Several hours later, Patrick and Gemstorm check their pouches and backpacks, as well as the bags tied to Gelerts back. A gentle pat on his head and a tickle behind his ears made him a bit more at ease with the additional weight.

As the Rose Apple provides them with shade, its humming inhabitants are chased away by the smoke emerging from their fire. A few scoops of sand later, the fire is buried and the last signs of human presence are removed from sight.

"I do wish we could bring more fruit. After this meal, I do not think I can get used to roots and berries as easily anymore. The stories did not give this tree enough credit!"

Gemstorm grins at Patrick and shakes her head, warmly but decidedly.

"Our responsibility is with bringing what we have back so we can start replanting the Rose Apple.

Before a year is gone, everyone will be able to enjoy the 'fruits of our labour', not just us.

Besides, if we take on any more weight we will never be back in time to collect the herbs we have gathered...and you will have a hired sword after you, courtesy of a merchant in Vos. Plus...there still is a baby boar beneath that tree. Its parents will come back, even though Gelert has appears to have chased them halfway across the Forest of Shadows." Patrick nods.

"You are right. But a few extra apples..." Another shake of Gemstorm’s head is followed by a small sigh from Patrick. With renewed energy, full stomachs, and a sense of unexplainable thrill about being able to undo the near-extinction of the Rose Apple, the group starts its journey home.

The streets of Vos were filled with carriages and horses. As the sky started turning dark, Patrick walked through the streets. A strong pace and a firm grip on his staff kept those with ill intentions away from him and waiting for an easier target.

A loud crack is followed by the sounds of horses and men, equally startled by a carriage falling over on its side. The broken wheel that caused the damage rolls slowly towards the edge of the street.

"Damned city," Patrick mumbled. "I cannot wait to get out of here...but there is something to be done."

Several minutes later, Patrick arrived at one of the rare buildings in the market district that appeared to be well kept. The owner, a merchant by the looks of the sign hanging above the door, must be doing well for himself. Of course, Patrick knew this already from previous encounters. He opened the door and walked inside.

"Ah, the ranger! Have you come to return your book? Or renew your loaning of it? Please be advised that I have had other people interested in it, and the price for loaning it will have to go up...supply and demand, you know how it goes."

A fat man emerged from behind a couple of large crates. His size was unusual in a city where so many have trouble finding enough food to make it through the day. The speed with which he approached Patrick was an indication that he should not be underestimated based on his appearance...another indication were his small but alert eyes.

"I did not come for either of those purposes. I have come to deliver the agreed upon price for buying the book," Patrick replied as he grabbed two packs of herbs from his backpack and put them on a nearby shelf. "You will find that everything on your list is in there. I trust our business is concluded now."

The merchant inspected the packs quickly, then turned to Patrick. "Oh, you rangers know nothing about business!" He chuckled, and continued. "As I said, there are other people interested...so I must ask a higher price. I am sorry, but I cannot honor our agreement."

"And what would your higher price be?"

"The same as on the list I gave you, but the amounts should be doubled. I am SURE you can find more of what you have collected now. If not, someone else will."

Patrick grinned. "Someone else? The only people able to find these herbs are other rangers, or perhaps an adventurous druid...if such a person exists. They would need to know their way around parts of the Forest of Shadows, as well as have the time, knowledge and inclination to collect everything."

"Oh, you are not the only ranger in town, you know."

"Perhaps not...but I do not think any ranger I know will deal with you after hearing how I have been conned. A note in the Mystic Shadows Inn will suffice...everyone headed for the Forest of Shadows will be able to read it. Still, I am sure you have thought of that."

Patrick grabs the two packs, reaches into his backpack for a book titled "Herbal life of Pria", and leaves the book on the shelf instead.

"Good luck, merchant. It is truly a shame for both of us...you lose the chance of getting more herbs from me in the future in other transactions, and I lose...wait, actually it is only truly a shame for you. Ah well, supply and demand."

As Patrick makes his way towards the door, the merchant suddenly appears in front of him, his hands opened and at shoulder height in an apologetic gesture.

"But...wait. You are right. A deal is a deal. What kind of merchant would I be if I did not honour our arrangement?"

"A lying and deceiving one," Patrick responded helpfully.

"Do you want the book or not? At the old price?"

"Well, I used to...but there is nothing like a walk through the market district of Vos to make one conscious about prices and deals. Some of the herbs I have collected are in high demand here, and you know what that means for my packs."

"Okay, okay," the merchant sighed. Irritatedly, he added: "you give me the two packs, and I give you the book and..." he quickly looks around him "...and two chickens, plus this small pack of seasoning herbs. You will eat like a king for days!"

"Very well, it is a deal."

...

Fifteen minutes later, Patrick walked out of the market district. The orphanage was very grateful for the two chickens, which would feed the children for today. Where their food would arrive from tomorrow, he did not know...and he feared that they did not know either.

"Damned city."

Gemstorm finished grooming Snowheels after their brief journey to return the loaned sickle to Mother Speedwell. She smiled at the memory of the old dame's gladsome acceptance of the seeds she had saved from the fruit of a Roseapple.

It had been a very pleasant afternoon of sharing the tale of the search for the RoseApple in the Forest of Shadows and the many rare and exotic herbs and plants she had seen while there as well as the alarms,and travails that she and Patrick Padrin had endured on their quest for the tree.

Putting the tools away, and giving the mare another bait of hay she closed the stall door and calling Gelert, crossed the stable courtyard to enter the Inn. She meant to take a room there and avail herself of a bath..a three hour soak would just about do to restore me she thought after the heat, exertion and rough camping of the past two weeks.

Entering the Inn she stepped lightly across the room and found a key to an unused room, she would bathe first then attend to her disgraceful leathers.

Then she would catch up on her messages..she had a rather uncomfortable feeling that she should have left some word of her journey at its outset, for it was always the way, that a person was never needed or missed, until they went off on errantry and left no word behind for friends and relatives.

She shrugged ..such was the way of it..her feeling was probably left over from childhood when she would go off on some all day adventure with her brothers, neglecting to inform her mother and receiving a stern lecture for her thoughtlessness when she eventually returned.

Glancing into the common room of the Inn before she turned to go up the stairs to her room she looked for the familiar shape of Patrick Padrin, at his favorite table testing out the flavor of yet another probably less than adequate herbal tea.

But no joy there ..he had not apparently returned from his business in Vos..and she was on absolute tenterhooks to know the outcome of his bargaining with the usorious merchant.

"Well, Gelert, first things first.." she said softly and with a chirrup to the hound she picked up her pack and went to surrender herself to the creature comforts of hot soapy water.

"And.." she commented to the attentive hound as she turned the key in the lock and entered their room, "not a word from that "cheeky elf" either..now I am beginning to worry a bit about his well-being and whereabouts".