20201024 Crash with the Titans

Best day of being heavily cursed ever!
 
Everybody insisted that I get holy beeswax in my ears and get my hands tied in case I wig out from SA's old bindey cursey thingy.
 
Wrong Way is as reliable as ever. I know he's worried about me, but I haven't had time alone with him to let him know it's all going to turn out alright. I've got it all sorted out.
 
1. Wrong Way will be Wrong Way. Scaevola will be Scaevola. Miro will be Miro. A lich will be a lich. And so on.
2. If and when I meet MFK, I will call him Buddy as much as is humanly possible to get him to think of me as family.
 
Yiarra and SA got in a loud fight about whether now is a good time to dope-slap MFK. Even a guy with wax in his ears could hear it. SA said like twice I think that when Yiarra was just a little sapling, that she got into a boat, planning to go somewhere away from the homestead, which I totally understand. So some demigod, male probably, didn't notice her and did some stuff and stepped all over her plan and she wound up here for now, Ajory Pond. SA thinks Yiarra's tree is too big to move now. Ha, ha. Tell a glacier it is too big to move next time you see one and see what it says.
 
3. I'll ask MFK a question or two about his principles and values. That will help me out with my plans and let him know I can be trusted because I care about stuff.
 
I'm wondering: if I took a bath in this weird dark pumice all around here and got good and dirty and dusty, would I lose my access to nature magic and the heavy bindey cursey thingy too?
 
4. I'm not a secretive person. MFK probably doesn't know that yet, but he will notice it eventually.
 
I wonder how big Scaevola's tree is. She said something that sounded really weird, but I think she meant that a piece from the heart of her tree is now bound with mine. Awwwww, shucks. I knew she could be adorable when she wants to be.
 
We actually slept through the night! I can't remember when that last happened. But in the morning, with a tasty cold breakfast and a swim, we saw that the ash cloud was still darkening the skies. Maybe it is thinning out a little, but maybe I'm just wishful-thinking. I would swear it was from a volcano if I didn't see it coming from the evil stampede of Hell-Bovines.
 
Miro and Chef and Wrong Way and I took horses to Sarsaparilla Waterfall. Wait, that's not the name, but it's close; that's a ranch. Miro finally got naked and was rewarded by finding a button from the missing Mayor's coat in the water. And the hidden way up was behind the waterfall like he predicted. I don't see why he ever wears clothes if his luck is so much better without them.
 
I found somebody's old slipper when I was looking for fool's gold or real gold in the waterfall. Wrong Way flew up of course and found Miro's way up, and a really weird leaf, not moss or fungus, but like a leaf modified by alchemy. Think of a sub-tundra rain forest fern growing on an old abandoned grave mixed with sad moss far, far away, like the southern continent kind of far away, and then you'll be imagining what this leaf looks like. It's that weird. I like it. I'm hanging on to it.
 
5. I'm regretting leaving my quill and scroll case back at the SNAFU guildhall. I'm going to have to write down all these steps if I'm going to remember them all. Writing my journals on the underside of my hat with berry dye doesn't leave much available space, and it isn't easy to read afterward.
 
6. I can be trusted to be Jesse, even when I'm not all Jesse.
 
Chef is very good at climbing. I don't know if he is any good at falling; that's how good he is at climbing. Miro and I lean the other way. I always land on my boots, so it's not that bad. Miro lands on his feet one out of every two times. At the top, the air was so thin that we were lucky that we didn't encounter any newborn kittens itchin' for a fight, because they might have taken us. Fortunately, Chef's cooking skills went unhindered, so we had a bit of rest and recuperation to help us make our way down into the canyon toward that Lone Oak next to the pretty cave of pretty shiny prettiness and the waterfall known as, "Oh please let me take a bath and get all this trail dirt off again!"
 
To the west side of the canyon is an area so far to the west that it will only get morning sun and not broil in the afternoon sun, where cultivation happens. They carry water out there every dawn and dusk. So sad that they don't know about aqueducts and modern conveniences. Nor how to make it rain when you ask for it.
 
If this whole place is going to be brought back to verdant growth, then the plant species need a boost of gentle but firm care to help them survive until the rainy season. This area really needs a druid tending it. The amateurs had good intentions I'm sure, but not enough gardening skill, not nearly enough.
 
I'm sure the Hell Woolies have tried to come down the mountain slopes from high above. They are sheep, right? Rocks? Puh-leaze! No problem when you are a flock of sheep ... to sneak up on the garden or the cavate from above. Someone's got to come up with a way to deal with that at some point. That's a weakness. Fields of killer cabbages won't stop hell-woolies for very long. Mountain goats; that would be worse.
 
I expect that lone oak tree has seen a lot over the years that could help me. Say, why is it lone? Why doesn't its acorns grow every year into saplings? Maybe there used to be, and some jackass cut them down? But I don't see stumps. It could only mean one thing. Another sexy dryad has moved her tree here. I must speak to her.
 
No luck. It's a boy. It did tell me that the waterfall only appeared after the great on-land hurricane ended. Evil Bingo! I win a prize. But, And, However, the ground fused only like 3 winters ago. I thought the Dead Zone and the crater was here with the glaciers or the early mammals, but maybe I should ask any of the townspeople if there was a loud Bang three years or so ago. Oh, and Lone Oak says there's a bushy treant about my size, who would probably be called Farvold by his friends if he had any, I'm guessing.
 
7. A friend will tell you the truth when you need to hear it. Get ready, MFK, you ain't never had a friend like me.
 
Miro and Bruthasmus head up the waterfall. Oh, the SNAFU Posse mostly got back together. Bruthasmus and Sephia were rather smokier versions of themselves. That (the waterfall part) has to happen because we have the contract that we work for SA and her plant army in exchange for: we get to defeat the Hell-Bovines, get revenge for the Stormborn, and get that thing to the Banshee's place like buried or whatever. That's the contract. That keeps Miro Miro without being too Miro.
 
Hey, wait a sec. If the source of the waterfall is taken by the pirate ... no more waterfall? All the plants die of dehydration and heat? Big problem, but if I could get my druid friends to move in here and bring rains it will be a much less evil source of water. But, yes, it would cause a drought in the short term. Hmm. I need to delay Miro until I get rains here. No, wait. See Step #1. The plants can trust Miro to distract Miro. Problem solved.
 
Say, I can ask Sister Stone to loosen up and live a little. That way Lone Oak can grow his roots out to the water supply so he will be fine until I get the druids adding some precious rain to this place. And sure enough, Plop! Right in the middle of my work. Bruthasmus and Miro take the fast way down from the waterfall. Sister Gravity is a harsh mistress, they learn.
 
Sephia says she hears wind chimes coming from the cave. It's pretty. But it's like Big city. It's too good to be true. Kick some sawdust and peanut shells on the floor. Give me the waterfall any day, any hot sweaty dirty day.
 
Uh, oh. They say Mother Nature shall judge the quick and the dead. We are now surrounded by Briarseed children. We weren't very quick. They have like three score, we are closer to three. Hey, somebody should be carrying water to the westward botanical garden nursery round about now. They don't know I'm in charge of this place now. I wonder how I could get that message across.