ars heroica

"Wood"-be Heroes: Who Will Tackle Silmaria’s Knotty Forestry Problem?

A Discussion with Dr. Cornelia Platz, Heroicist

By Joseph Howse, Paladin Reporter

A mailbox and desk are two important furnishings that mark the advancement of an aspiring journalist. With one, the newspaper correspondent can receive press releases; with the other, visiting dignitaries.

This month, I was quadruply fortunate: I received a mailbox, a desk, a letter, and a visitor in breathtakingly fast succession.

The mailbox is a lovely wicker creation, paw-made by the katta artisan Sarra. The desk is fashioned by fisherman André from the bones of a razorfish that washed up on the docks. With a good scrub and three coats of resin, its odor should subside any day now.

The letter and the visit came from a Dr. Cornelia Platz, whose purpose you shall soon know.

Joseph Howse: Thank you for coming in, Cornelia.

Cornelia Platz: You are quite welcome.

JH: Now, Cornelia, from your note, I understand you specialize in the field of heroicism. What’s that?

CP: A heroicist is one who studies the principia and pragma of heroics. However—I hasten to add‐we ourselves are not heroic practitioners.

JH: Do you heroicists have your own school, like the School for Heroes?

CP: We do indeed have an educational institute, in Zurich, but it is unaffiliated with the School for Heroes.

JH: I see. No doubt you’ve come this way to rally some heroes for a cause.

CP: I’d welcome collaborators in one of my projects, yes.

JH: And could you tell our readers about the nature of that project?

CP: Definitely. Deforestation has been—I would say it’s been an extremely serious problem on Marete. We have the impact of shipbuilding and, lately, of the hot-air-balloon popular phenomenon. Compounded with those resource-economic pressures, we’ve had the long-term volcanic and draconic phenomena.

JH: I see. But, in light of the latter’s decease&mash;I mean, since the dragon’s dead, what more . . . ?

CP: Naturally, in the post-draconic context, there is the temptation to view our islands’ forestry management as an issue for policymakers rather than heroicists or heroic practitioners. However, compared to our previous understanding of the problem, my research suggests it goes far, far deeper than we knew, in an unfortunately . . . literal sense.

JH: Literal sense? What do you mean by that, Cornelia?

CP: Literally deeper, that is. The bedrock of Marete—the igneous bedrock—is shot through with fractures, systemically. The watertable is extremely complex, highly unusual. All the rivers flow to one place and, alarmingly, it’s not the Med Sea!

JH: You don’t say.

CP: Yes, as I was starting to say, the rivers converge in an underground location, which my research assistants are working to pinpoint. Unfortunately, they seem to find the assignment arduous; absenteeism is on the rise.

JH: Do you mean to say that some of your research assistants have gone missing?

CP: Well . . . I suppose I had not viewed the evidence with that particular analytic lens.

JH: This place where the rivers flow—it mightn’t be Hades, might it?

CP: I hesitate to answer the question in the form that it is posed. Tautologically, almost—in the universe of universes—it might be Hades, but I don’t wish to be misinterpreted.

JH: We’re seeking out the Gates of Hades for our next field trip in Local Lore class.

CP: That’s well and good, I suppose, but as I was trying to say, the watertable is draining downward due to this subterranean fluvial confluence. Do you understand? That is another root cause (if you’ll forgive that wooden pun) of the deforestation dilemma.

JH: Huh. Never thought about it that way.

CP: (Clearly!) Really, heroic practitioners must apply themselves to somehow making this water spurt back up!

JH: I don’t know about reversing the waterflow from Hades. Maybe it’s not too late to bring your research assistants back from the brink . . .

CP: [Shaking her head.] They were always tardy anyway. These days, we need persons of action, even among non-practitioners.

JH: Do other heroicists share your . . . steely resolve?

CP: A fair question. No. Our institute does not always favor field research. But I designed my liability waivers so carefully, there was no conceivable objection to my bringing my assistants along.

[Pause.]

JH: When did you first become interested in Silmarian forestry, then?

CP: Ah! When I was little, I loved watching the cuckoo clock on my grandfather’s mantle. He told me it was made of Silmarian dryad wood. He told so many stories—in retrospect, I cannot objectively weigh the truth of his claim. The clock was lost in an avalanche.

JH: And your grandfather?

CP: No, he cannot corroborate his claim either, not anymore. [Sigh.]

JH: A . . . powerful tale. Well, Cornelia, thank you for joining us. We’ll keep our eyes peeled during our field trip, and we’ll water the trees if we can.

CP: Write field diaries, and keep me abreast of your findings.

Dr. Platz’s records reflect that her research assistants are named Heidi, Franz, and Gertrude. One of them can yodel, another can sew leiderhosen, and the third can get gnome jokes. Please, please watch for them in western Marete, in the purported vicinity of the Gates of Hades.

Also, put your minds to the deforestation peril. The dryads would surely thank you.