The rain has lessened to a mist, slowly cloaking Lincoln’s Main Street and the surrounding valley in light gray fog. As Tamsin approaches the schoolhouse, she notices that the mountains have disappeared from view, lost behind an opaque wall of drizzle. The air is cool, heavy with the scent of pine trees and moisture.

Even from a distance, Tamsin can see that the schoolhouse has been well constructed, its parallel beams cut evenly, the coat of white paint recently touched up, suggesting that the community takes genuine pride in the structure. The grounds surrounding the building are covered with ankle high grass, much of it pressed flat by the passage of children’s feet at play. A brass bell has been mounted beside the entrance, which is reached by a trio of short steps. A pair of windows flank the front door, the space beyond them completely dark. The door itself has been secured with a thick iron chain, held closed with a large, iron lock. Both chain and lock appear new, without a touch of rust on either.

A well traveled path, free of grass, leads around the right side of the building to the rear. The schoolhouse is quiet, absent any hint of movement or life. Were it not in such good repair, Tamsin would almost believe it abandoned.

Tamsin is at home in the humid air; it's like she back at her garden at the river, pulling weeds, planting seeds. The distant veil is almost comforting, reminding her of the fog that curls through the trees outside her home. It's almost like she never left, they hadn't been attacked by those dead wolves,

It's important that she gets what she needs from Lincoln, yes, but it's not like anything will start growing until she gets back to plant it. Some of it she can't plant because it won't grow, so the longer it's with Ava the better- less chance of it being exposed to less than ideal conditions for too long. Yes, look first, then herbs,

She just wants to know what's going on with the schoolhouse. If they were still holding classes, it had to be something with the building itself, so that was reassuring, at least- probably wasn't an outbreak. But what could be wrong with it? They obviously kept it well. She could understand if it was falling apart or something, but...

She steps up to the entrance, leaning over to peek into the windows. Too dark to see much. Her hands feel along the chain before testing the lock. If the lock doesn't magically open for her, she's going to take a look around the back.

A careful inspection of the chain links reveal them to be solid. Tugging on the lock confirms that it is engaged and sturdy. Barring breaking the chain with a tool of some kind, the front entrance appears inaccessible.

Following the path around to the rear of the schoolhouse, Tamsin halts at the sight sight she is confronted with. From beneath the back door, which is held closed by a pair of boards nailed across the doorframe, a number of thorn studded vines extend, climbing up the exterior wall, looking akin to dark colored veins that mar the whitewashed surface. The fresh leaves give Tamsin the immediate impression that the growth is new, but glancing about, she sees no similar plants anywhere in the vicinty.

OOC: Tamsin, kindly give me a Knowledge: Herbalism roll. Be sure to also roll a 1d6 Wild Die.

Tamsin examines the plant closely, not touching it just yet. Some kind of overgrowth, is that why they aren’t using the schoolhouse?

18:32, Today: Tamsin River rolled 5,1 using d6,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 5,1.  Knowledge: Herbalism.

Tamsin peers closely at the vines, noting the dark brown, nigh black, color of the runners and thorns, and the silver-green hue of the spear shaped leaves. With all of the study and exploration Tamsin has done in the New Mexico Territory, she is rightfully confident that she can identify any of the region’s native plants by sight, and recognize their medicinal, or poisionous, properties.

But as the herbalist examines the vine she is certain of one thing: she has never encountered this plant before. Not in any of her travels.

Glancing over at the door that the vines emerged beneath of, she notices that the are hairline cracks in the wood where the plants have pushed out.

Tamsin stares at the vines, hands on her hips, mouth pursed as it does when she's thinking hard on something. She might expect to see plants growing through the wood in a place that wasn't being taken care of, but certainly not here.

She makes sure her hands are covered with her sleeves and uses one to push against one of the cracks in the door. No plant should be making a building this unsound so quickly. Maybe Ava will know what it is.

Tamsin attempts to snap a leaf off of one the vines, avoiding the thorns the best she can.

Putting her weight to the door, Tamsin can see that the cracks widen slightly as she pushes. The breaks in the wood are definitely new, leading her to feel certain that the damage was caused by pressure exerted by the vines.

Although the effort requires some twisting, Tamsin is able to pull one of the silver-green leaves free. There is a sharp snap as she does so and, looking at the vine and the leaf, the herbalist notices that no moisture escapes from either end of the torn stem.

OOC: Tamsin, kindly give me a Notice roll.

Everything about this is just so... odd. The wood isn't otherwise damaged but clearly the vines pushed through it, and usually breaking pieces off yields something- sap, water, something damp.

19:35, Today: Tamsin River rolled 1,9 using d6,d6, rerolling max ((1,(6+3)9))

Standing with the leaf she has collected, Tamsin has a brief, but fleeting perception that the vines shift slightly, inching forward, extending their reach over the back of the schoolhouse a small distance. As soon as she senses the movement, it ceases, the strange plant appearing perfectly still once more.

Around the corner of the building, the herbalist hears the crunch of footsteps, the sound of someone approaching the schoolhouse.

What in the world...?

"Don't think I'm not watching you," Tamsin chides the plant softly before she backs up. It's not the first time she's done so, but it's the first time a plant has actually done something to warrant it.

"Hello?" she calls out, looking for whoever is coming up.

As Tamsin nearsthe corner of the schoolhouse, she hears a female voice answer, ”Hello! Who’s there?”

Stepping around the corner of the building, Tamsin is met by a young woman with long, red hair. She is dressed much like a ranch hand, in jeans and a cotton shirt, with a hat pulled down low on her brow. A gunbelt is cinched around her waist and over one shoulder, she is carrying what appears to be a new saddle.

”Hey, there,” she says upon seeing the herbalist, ”Sorry if I startled you. I was just here to make sure there weren’t any kids trying to sneak into the school. It’s...not really a safe place to be right now.”

Tamsin stops to survey the woman.

“I see that. Do you have any idea what happened here?”

The woman glances over at the schoolhouse with a frown. ”I’m not completely sure, to be honest. I’ve heard that some children here in town...disappeared. And around the same time, some strange things happened here at the school. As I reckon you can guess, there’s quite a lot of people upset about it.”

“Last night, I rode with a group to see if we could find where the missing kids might have gotten to, but we didn’t manage to find any trace of them.”

She cocks her head to one side then extends her free hand. ”I’m Aileen Kearney. I’m new here in Lincoln. I came up this way to chase down some wild mustangs in the valley. I don’t remember seeing you around town before.”

Tamsin listens.

She extends her hand as well to shake the woman’s hand. ”Well, welcome to Lincoln. So... Disappeared? Are we talking ... I mean, did the children walk out of their houuses or did they just go... poof? Have you heard anything? I’m Tamsin River, by the way.”

Tamsin is suspicious. “Oh. What town are you from?”

”The way I heard it told, something happened here, at the schoolhouse, a couple of mornings back. The kids that got away have all told different stories, but my impression is some of them were taken. Right as they were supposed to be learning their alphabet and such.”

Kearney glances back over her shoulder, then back at Tamsin. ”There’s been some problems here in town. Disputes over the cattle range. A lot of the folks here have some pretty strong feelings about it. But...I heard talk over at the Thornton-Curry that these missing kids....their parents had gotten word that if they fell in line, stopped causing trouble for one of the sides in this disagreement, they’d eventually get them back, safe and sound.”

She shakes her head. ”I just wanted to help. Make sure no other little ones got in any danger.”

She points north. ”I’m from Colorado. But I’ve got an aunt and uncle, Andrew and Lettie MacNevin, who live over in San Patricio. They’d written to me about some of the wild horses on the range out here. They’ve fed me a time or two when I haven’t done so well in bringing some of them in.”

Tamsin's mouth purses off to the side as she thinks. "Taken by who? And what is with these vines? Sorry, I'm just thinking out loud," she adds. "Oh, the MacNevin's. Yeah, they're good people, helped me a time or two. Wish I had been there to help with Simon, but at least Ava was around and it all worked out in the end."

Kearney grins. ”Simon sometimes gets in a hurry to get his work done. Wants to be about other business. Miss Winter got him fixed up good.”

Kearney looks at the schoolhouse, her expression darkening. ”I’m not sure we know who took ‘em. Miss Perez, the schoolmistress, was outside, trying to corral some of the kids back inside when it all happened, if I understand right. Never saw who was responsible.” She frowns. ”But that’s when those vines sprung up. Just all of the sudden. Got all over the back of the classroom.”

She looks back at Tamsin and shrugs. ”I know that last part doesn’t make any sense. But everyone...the kids, Miss Perez...they all tell that part of it the same.”

Tamsin doesn’t look the least bit surprised about the vines. “I believe it. The vines are... well, I’ve never encountered a plant like them before,” she says, holding up the leaf she has. “Do you know if Miss Winter has been down to take a look at the vines?”

Kearney shakes her head. "I don't think she has. But I heard Missus Montaño had sent word to Miss Winter not long after it happened."

Hm.

”All right. I’m going to take this bit of leaf.to Ava then,  because I need to figure out what happened.”

Kearney bids River a good afternoon, tipping her hat to her as the herbalist departs.

Venturing across the street, River approaches the the familiar sight of the Montaño Store, clearly one of the oldest buildings on Lincoln’s Main Street. The structure and the area it occupies are clearly well maintained, but a close look at the adobe walls and tin roof reveal that both have endured their share of unflinching sunlight and brutal winters. The dim illumination of lanterns is visible in the window beside the front door, which has been painted a bright blue.

A small bell rings as Tamsin pushes the door open. Inside, the walls are lined with handmade shelves that have been stained dark. They are laden with a variety of goods, many in boxes and jars. Tables in the large room’s center hold tools, blankets, and a number of different items fashioned from leather. A open doorway appears to lead into a room where clothes and linens are displayed. The rich scent of spices greets the herbalist as she enters.

Sitting at a desk which is situated at the far end of the room, is Ava Winter. The dark haired woman smiles warmly as she recognizes her friend. ”Tamsin! What a welcome surprise! I didn’t know you were coming to town today.”

Tamsin is just as excited to see Ava. “Ava!” she exclaims, coming around the desk to give the woman a hug, careful to keep the leaf away from her friend, just in case. “Yes, well, I wasn’t expecting to end up with so many sick people this season. At least everyone getting sick means I need to come out here for more supplies, and a visit, of course.

Tamsin finally offers up the leaf she pulled off the schoolhouse. Don’t suppose you know what this is?

Winter takes the clipping from the vine, setting it down on the desk in front of her, a frown furrowing her brow. She examines the plant for several moments in silence.

Looking up, she asks, ”Tamsin, where did you find this? Is this...from the schoolhouse?”

“Yes.”

That’s all she says for a moment, letting the silence hang.“They said you hadn’t taken a look at it, so I brought some. It’s not from around here.”

Winter carefully takes one of the leaves between her thumb and index finger, rubbing them back and forth a few times. Setting it down, she sees that her fingertips have been covered in black dust, akin to soot.

”Dry,” she mutters. ”Did you see any moisture when you clipped the vine, or was it just the same as it is now?”

Tamsin shakes her head. “No, nothing. No sap, no water, nothing. And...” She pauses, taking a look around to be sure they are alone. Lowering her voice, she continues, “Plants are supposed to grow and sometimes you see it, but I swear that the vines moved.”

Winter nods, her expression still serious. ”I don’t doubt that you’re telling the truth. This plant...it isn’t natural. It’s born from something else. Something that’s a hold on this valley since before either of us were born.”

“I’ve seen this vine before. Once, when I was young. In an abandoned place, northwest of Lincoln. There were stories about the place, about it being haunted...cursed. Terrible things had supposedly happened there. I didn’t find that difficult to believe when I saw it overgrown with these...weeds.”

“Do you know anything else about it? Is it dangerous itself? Or does it only come after the danger is gone?

”My impression, then and now, is that it is connected to something worse. That it accompanies the appearance of a greater evil. This place where I saw it was a farmhouse, and from what I had been told, it was owned by...”

Winter’s voice trails off as the bell from the shop’s front door rings. Glancing over her shoulder, Tamsin can see that Jacinta Castillo has stepped into the store.

Spotting the two women in conference, Jacinta took off her hat and left it hanging by the door to dry.  "Hola, ladies," she said in greeting as she approached.  "You must be Ms. Winter.  Been lookin' for you and Tam."  Rustling into her pack, she pulled out a glass jar and plunked it down onto the table between them.  Inside was another vine clipping.  "Got this one from the Gehrig a ways out of town.  S'growin' all over their vegetable patch.  You get yours from the schoolhouse?"

”I am,” Winter replies with a smile. ”Though If you’ve heard of me from Tamsin here, I would encourage you not to take her stories too seriously. I’m not nearly as mean as she might make me out to be.” She extends her hand. ”And you are?”

Introductions done, she shifts her attention to the clipping in the jar. ”I’m afraid I was just telling Tamsin of my first unfortunate encounter with this plant. My only encounter with it, thankfully. When you found this...was it only growing over the family’s vegetables, or had it spread elsewhere?”

She gave the woman's hand a shake.  "Jacinta Castillo.  Best I saw, these vines were only growing in their garden.  They couldn't shake 'em, but they hadn't spread.  Strange, sí?"

Tamsin waves a hand as Jacinta enters, letting the women introduce themselves, She lets out a sigh. “Very strange. Ava, the farmhouse where you first saw it, who owned it?”

Not that there’s much she can do about any of it, but she needs to know.

”Si. Muy extraño,” she agrees. ”Almost as though it knows where it is growing. Like it is seeking specifically to take those peoples’ crops from them.”

”A man named Elliot Blair,” she replies to Tamsin. ”He was dead. He had expired months before I visited his home. The stories were that he was a cruel, greedy man. Bought many sections of land here in the valley, especially near the river. Snared farmers into buying them, then worked with the bankers in Santa Fe to take every penny they had. Turned a few into virtual slaves, whose crops he owned before they were even harvested.”

“There were rumors he’d done other...terrible things in that house of his.”

She picks up the jar, peering at the clipping within. ”No one was certain how Mr. Blair died. But these weeds, they grew all over his property in the weeks after he passed.”

"Huh, I wonder if these weeds are all tied to him somehow.  Though how that ties in to a murder after his death, I couldn't begin to fathom.  Anybody ever taken a tour of his place after he died?  Explored the property and such?  Anybody living there now?"  She frowned.  "Sometimes... it ain't the people that are bad so much as the land.  I've seen good people do horrible things, especially out in the Maze."

Tamsin frowns. “Yes, I think the vines do know where they’re growing, the question is why. And who.” She looks at the weed again. “Have you found any use for it?”

She did not like this Elliot Blair.

Winter shakes her head. ”No one’s lived in that house since Blair passed on,” she says.  ”So far as I know it’s still standing. Just vacant. I can’t say if anyone’s actually gone inside the place or not. Cal Riddle lives west of there. Had a couple of horses he hadn’t broken get loose, run onto the property. He never found ‘em. There’s a trapper named Aaron Robles that hunted some wolves that had killed a few peoples’ livestock this past winter. Tracked them to that property. Said the house and the weeds were still there. Really didn’t like the place much. Told me he bagged his prey and got gone.”

She turns the jar that Castillo brought, looking at the clipping within. ”No, I never found any use for it at all.” she replies to River. ”Last time I had some, I tried to grind it down with a mortar and pestle. Took me an hour. All I ended up with was something like ash.” She frowns. ”Birds stopped singing around my house for a couple of days after that.”

She threw Tamsin a glance.  "Sounds like a place we might need to visit.  Heard that there was some figure in those vines.   Something or someone came out of it.  I'm thinking it all might be tied together, like a bunch of gopher tunnels under the town.  I think we should find the Ranger and pass this information on.  Could be the missing kids are somewhere on that property -- where no one has thought to look and where no one ever goes.  Whatchu think?" 
This message was last edited by the player at 06:21, Wed 18 Apr 2018.

Tamsin sighs, meeting Jacinta’s glance. ”Well, we definitely need to tell the Ranger. I just... I know I shouldn’t go wandering into these things, but if the kids turn out to be there and I didn’t do anything... I suppose a visit is in order.”
This message was last edited by the player at 19:27, Wed 18 Apr 2018.

Winter nods. Gesturing to the clippings, she says, "I will ensure these are kept somewhere safe. If either of you need my help, you should be able to find me here or at the boarding house next door. If I've gone elsewhere, I'll leave word with Renata. I plan to stay around Lincoln for at least a couple of more days."

Exiting the store, the two women see that the misting rain has begun to clear, the horizon marked by a fading, thin orange line while the rest of the sky slowly transitions to a deep violet, revealing a handful of stars above. Down the street, Castillo and River notice that a small group of people have gathered in front of the schoolhouse, several of them carrying lanterns. Among them are Ranger Bryan Lee and a man dressed in the garb of a Catholic Priest.

OOC: I'm working on the assumption that the mentions of the "Marshal" are in reference to Texas Ranger Lee. So, I'm going to shift the two of you over to the thread where he and some of the other characters are gathered. If you meant someone else, such as a member of the local constabulary, let me know, and I'll get you redirected.

OOC:  That's exactly what I meant.  Now I gotta go edit every post with every mention of him.   :p
This message was last edited by the player at 06:24, Wed 18 Apr 2018.