The very motley crew, with a woman who seemed to want to take everyone under her wing with a kind heart beneath that gruff exterior begins to enter the realm of danger. The "Old Fool" rather glad for the help with clothing gets helplessly damaged, and the ones that were once lonely, bereft of friends or family, find the warmth, even in facing a deadly foe, that comes with being loved.
@internutter/challenge-03336-i048-youve-been-mothered -- Anon Guest
[AN: Also linked to Force Ma-jeure ]
"This is a lesson in humility," mumbled Wraithvine for the umpty-umpth time. "Every time I lean towards vainglory, the universe reminds me that no being exists for their ego." This seemed to calm hir.
Abundance had a far briefer philosophy with the same spirit, "Shit happens. Get used to it."
So far, their trip through the Undermountain had been solving problems of forces that were meant to oppose them. Ma's fibrecraft bag and crochet needle had been busy, throughout. And yet, things were getting serious.
Increasing numbers of Undermountain denizens were determined to fight. They learned quickly -and fatally- that kindness was not a weakness. It was the first option, and they didn't often survive the second.
Ma could only effectively use her powers of Geas after something sufficiently devastating had occurred to the opposing forces. Which, as it inevitably would, came with consequences.
Wizards are generally categorised as Glass Cannons. They can inflict major amounts of damage, often over wide areas, but they cannot take what they dish out. At all.
Whatever the magical trap had been, it didn't have a physical effect on Wraithvine. No blood, no injury, no aches or pains. No complaints. Indeed, ze was very quiet after the light shone on hir and ruffled hir hair and clothes. Nothing - initially - seemed to be wrong.
The first hint was when they sat for one of Kevin's Bowshot Feasts. The Eternal Wizard had trouble holding utensils or lifting a full cup. Ze didn't notice a papercut on hir finger. Ze rubbed at hir elbows and wrists, and was reluctant to sit or lie down.
Worse, ze lost hir ability to plan.
Ma Oxbrydl measured Wraithvine's brow with her palm. Looked into hir eyes, and felt hir heartbeat. "This only effects Caisson workers and mountineers," she muttered. "I get the feeling the magic trap on you didn't do what it was supposed to."
"...lesson in humility," managed Wraithvine.
Abundance grumbled and weighed some treasure in his hand. "I can try a magical restoration..."
"He needs sweet air," said Ma, her crochet hook was flying. Creating a series of tubes. "And warmth for his joints. You can try your thing, but I feel you'd rather keep the gems you'd burn."
"True," said Abundance, "but treasure's never meant as much to me as your approval." A pointy and pointed smirk. "I wouldn't want my new mother to be disappointed with me." Nevertheless, he conjured sweet air into Wraithvine's face and let Ma install the warm wrappings for the wizard's joints.
When that only made partial progress, Abundance ran the restoration.
"Come back to us," cooed Ma. "We need you."
"Not as much as you think," said Wraithvine. The brightness was returning to hir eyes all the same. "But thank you."
Venin, without a word of prompting, shared out her remaining gemstones with Abundance. "You may need these more than I want them."
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / aaronamat]
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