Original Submissions by Anon

• 

  Meat Tree Seeds
  Added on Dec 25, 2006

  A half-giant gives a physician a gift that keeps on giving - or so the elf told him.

  ---

  The six-fingered half-giant has arrived from the north, a strong scent of dung following him.

  
  

  The six-fingered half-giant heads over to his cot, men all about the barracks busy preparing for the night.

  
  

  Leaning down beside his cot with a weary groan, the six-fingered half-giant sits down.

  
  

  You put a scrap of cloth inside a hooded, kenku-stitched jade cloak.

  
  

  Glancing about, the six-fingered half-giant asks, in sirihish:
  

  "Anyone seen sarje Akim?"

  
  

  The mottled, tow-haired young man leans back and twists a bit, his back cracking.  Reaching forward, he closes the lid of the trunk that he'd been sitting in front of, and starts to rise.

  
  

  As he gets to his feet, you say to the six-fingered half-giant, in sirihish:
  

  "I certainly haven't."

  
  

  Pursing his lips and then nodding to you, the six-fingered half-giant says, in sirihish:

  "Ok."

  
  

  Your small stone mortar cradled in one hand, you stand up from a simple wooden stool.

  
  

  The mottled, tow-haired young man nods slightly to the six-fingered half-giant and walks over to a heavy agafari cabinet.

  
  

  You stop using a red stone pestle.

  
  

  You put a small stone mortar inside a heavy agafari cabinet.

  
  

  You put a red stone pestle inside a heavy agafari cabinet.

  
  

  The six-fingered half-giant asks you, in sirihish:
  

  "Were you smashing plants?"

  Turning away from a heavy agafari cabinet and grinning, you say to the six-fingered half-giant, in sirihish:
  

  "Yes, I was."

  
  

  Nodding his head with a very serious expression, the six-fingered half-giant says, in sirihish:
  

  "That's good, I still like smashing mutts best, but plants is good too."

  
  

  Nodding, you say to the six-fingered half-giant, in sirihish:
  

  "Smashing mutts is possibly more satisfying.  But I don't believe I would be any good at it."

  
  

  Suddenly sitting upright, the six-fingered half-giant exclaims, in sirihish:

  "Oh! I forgot!"

  
  

  The six-fingered half-giant stands up.

  
  

  The six-fingered half-giant starts to dig through the pouches on his white and flame-red pouched leather belt.

  
  

  The six-fingered half-giant shakes a pouch into one hand.

  
  

  The mottled, tow-haired young man blinks, watching the six-fingered half-giant.

  
  

  The six-fingered half-giant gets a handful of deep red seeds from a white and flame-red pouched leather belt.

  
  

  The six-fingered half-giant gets a handful of deep red seeds from a white and flame-red pouched leather belt.

  
  

  The six-fingered half-giant holds his hand out towards you, leaning down so that the massive paw hovers just a cord before you.

  
  

  As he holds his handful of deep red seeds out, the six-fingered half-giant says, in sirihish:

  "I got them for you"

  
  

  Cupping his hands and holding them up towards his hand, you ask the six-fingered half-giant, in sirihish:

  "For me?  Thank you.. where did they come from?"

  
  Flipping his hand so that the seeds spill into your grasp, the six-fingered half-giant says to you, in sirihish:

  "They are special, they are meat trees, I had to trade some meat, but we got a good deal, these will make much more meat."

  
  

  The six-fingered half-giant gives you his handful of deep red seeds.

  
  

  Sounding somewhat skeptical, as he peers at the seeds in his hands, you ask the six-fingered half-giant, in sirihish:

  "'Meat' trees?"

  
  

  A deep red, almost crimson in color, these tiny seeds are the size of  pinheads.  Their surface is glossy and smooth.   Split open, they reveal a bland white inner flesh, which smells faintly bitter.

  
  

  Nodding his head firmly, the six-fingered half-giant says to you, in sirihish:

  "Oh yes, they'll grow into many times more meat then I had to give them"

  
  

  The mottled, tow-haired young man shifts the bulk of the seeds to one hand, though a couple spill out onto the floor.  Ignoring the escapees for the moment, he picks up one seed between two fingers of his free hand and examines it more closely.

  
  

  Crushing the seed between his fingertips and sniffing cautiously at it, you say to the six-fingered half-giant, in sirihish:

  "I.. see.  I suppose I shall have to find a place to plant them, then."

  
  

  You think:

  "Meat trees, eh?"

  
  

  With a beaming smile, the six-fingered half-giant says to you, in sirihish:
       "Yes, they will be great"

  
  

  The six-fingered half-giant heads back a few paces and slumps down against a wood-framed cotton cot again.

  
  

  Glancing up at him, you ask the six-fingered half-giant, in sirihish:

  "So you traded for them?  You didn't find them yourself?"

  
  

  The six-fingered half-giant sits down.

  
  

  Nodding his head, the six-fingered half-giant says to you, in sirihish:

  "Yup"

  You think:

  "What a load of nonsense."

  
  

  Nodding slowly, you ask the six-fingered half-giant, in sirihish:

  "I see.  And the person who you traded with told you this.. meat tree story?"

  
  

  You think:

  "Bitter.. hmm.. a purgative, perhaps?  Or a poison.  There is often little difference."

  
  

  Nodding his head quickly, the six-fingered half-giant says to you, in sirihish:

  "Yeah, explained how much meat we'd get, much more then if I only got coins."

  
  

  Wrinkling his nose at the squashed seed and absently wiping its remnants off on your pair of rough canvas pants, you ask the six-fingered half-giant, in sirihish:

  "Of course.  Do you remember who this trader was?  A longneck, perhaps?"

  
  

  Feeling amused, you think:

  "A meat tree."

  
  

  Lifting a hand to push his white, tembo-hide helmet to the side as he scratches beneath it, the six-fingered half-giant says, in sirihish:

  "Ummm.. yeah.. tiny little necker.. very good friendly for a necker"

  
  

  You think:

  "I knew it."

  
  

  The mottled, tow-haired young man chuckles quietly and nods, his eyes still on your handful of deep red seeds.

  
  

  You say to the six-fingered half-giant, in sirihish:

  "I'm sure.  Do you happen to remember what he looked like?  I'd like to find out a bit more about these, ah, meat trees."

  
  

  Pursing his lips and pinching his entire expression as if in deep contemplation, the six-fingered half-giant exclaims, in sirihish:

  "His... ear... no... both ears.. yes! Both ears were pointy!"

  
  

  The six-fingered half-giant gives you a sagely nod.

  
  

  Glancing up briefly, his lips twisting into a smirk, you say to the six-fingered

  "Both of them?  Well, he should be easy enough to find."

  
  

  Staring at you with no real intent other then looking forwards, the six-fingered half-giant says, in sirihish:

  "Yes, that will make it easy."

  
  

  After a moment of consideration, the six-fingered half-giant says, in sirihish:

  "He was also very small.. smaller then me"

  
  

  Feeling progressively more amused, you think:

  "Oh dear.  Still, he's been bred for a purpose, and it isn't to think."

  
  

  Nodding with an exaggerated slowness, you say to the six-fingered half-giant, in sirihish:

  "Oh, good.  Very good.  If you can think of anything else, be sure to let me know."

  
  

  You think:
  

   "Now, what to do with these berries?"

  
  

  The six-fingered half-giant purses his lips and squints his eyes, a tense moment of indepth thought passes, and he tightens up against himself slightly, eyes deeply glazed.

  
  

  Crouching down, taking care not to spill any more berries from his cupped palm, the mottled, tow-haired young man picks up the few that had fallen to the floor earlier and returns them to the pile.

  
  

  After a long moment of silence, the six-fingered half-giant says, in sirihish:

  "He... was... an..."

  
  

  Biting out the word slowly, the six-fingered half-giant says, in sirihish:

  "An elf... with..."

  
  

  The mottled, tow-haired young man slowly straightens back up and glances at the six-fingered half-giant.

  
  

  Straining almost, the six-fingered half-giant says, in sirihish:

  "Pointy.. ears..."

  
  

  Helpfully, you ask the six-fingered half-giant, in sirihish:

  "And shorter than you?"

  
  

  The six-fingered half-giant nods his head slowly, looking pleased.

  
  

  The six-fingered half-giant exclaims, in sirihish:

  "Exactly!"

  
  

  Looking relieved as he straightens up and leans back from his tense moment, the six-fingered half-giant says, in sirihish:

  "We are a good team"

  
  

  Inclining his head towards him, you say to the six-fingered half-giant, in sirihish:

  "Yes, thank you.  That was very helpful."

  
  

  The mottled, tow-haired young man looks down at your handful of deep red seeds for a moment, then crosses the room towards the row of trunks.

  
  

  You think:

  "I'm sure I can find something to do with them.  Later."

  
  

  You put a handful of deep red seeds inside an inix-rib trunk.

  
  

  The mottled, tow-haired young man rummages around inside one of the trunks, clearing a space before carefully depositing the handful of seeds inside.  Turning away, he wipes his hands clean on your pair of rough canvas pants.

  
  

  The mottled, tow-haired young man waves his hand at the six-fingered half-giant and quietly walks towards the entry hall.

  The six-fingered half-giant has arrived from the north, a strong scent of dung following him.

  
  

  The six-fingered half-giant heads over to his cot, men all about the barracks busy preparing for the night.

  
  

  Leaning down beside his cot with a weary groan, the six-fingered half-giant sits down.

  
  

  You put...

  
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