It was recently reported to the Weyrleadership that a blight had struck the herb beds that were cultivated specifically for use by the dragonhealers. -Everything- had to be ripped out and disposed of, leaving the stock of fresh supplies in rather dire straights, though they were importing some of the more necessary items from outside.
This of course set the Weyr's gardeners into a tizzy, checking every small plot and patch to make sure the blight hadn't spread, and puzzling over what could have caused it to attack -only- the dragonhealer's gardens. While the issue is being investigated, the head gardener, a rather surly old fart named Maxelyn, has devised a temporary fix.
Several long wooden troughs have been brought in and set up next to the now-fallow herb patches, along with several wagonloads of dirt brought in from outside the Weyr. No chances are being taken that it's a problem with the local soil, for another blight attack just isn't acceptable. Old Max and his various assistants are insulted enough that it happened in the first place. So while the gardeners work to try to replant a new supply of leafy things for the dragonhealers in the temporary trough beds, odd bags of dirt and stacks of terracotta pots are dotting the bowl.
