Timestamp: 55 Winter 519 AV
There was one nice thing to not having a winter these strange past few years: Early planting. With Spring taking up the slack of the missing Winter, Spring started early and thus a clever farmer could get the jump on the planting and growing season. Dawson, the superstitious farmer, refused to do so however. He claimed that "It ain't right. Spring starts when the towers go green and that ain't happen yet. You go down to zeltiva and tell me what color the tower is." It didn't really matter to Djinn, much of the winter was letting the fields go fallow, something to do with mulch and compost. He had much to learn about how growing exactly worked.
It was on such a fine false spring day that a pod of Svefra sailed up to their dock and set up for trade. So far the relationship with the local sea faring people had been going pretty well. They often came by with bits of rumor or curiosities to sell or buy. It was with a swell of pride that Djinn was able to sell some of the crops they grew over the summer and fall as welcome provisions. The trips between ports and cities were long and enjoying some fresh vegetables was enough to keep the svefra from turning pirate on them. Dawson once commented that "you never bite the hand that feeds you, or you don't get fed." The more the svefra bought their produce the less likely they would be to cheat or steal from them, whatever their cultural norms were.
Djinn was not the first one to visit the blue eyed men and women. Lynneah, a face who Djinn was increasingly seeing from afar, was firmly but emphatically arguing with a woman who was probably the Lia over the price and quantity of provisions they were selling. He wished them both good luck in their commerce and looked about for someone who he could talk to. "Aye, what'cha about friend." A young man said with a lopsided smile. Djinn returned the smile and offered a hand. Shaking hands was how many of these humans symbolicly presented trust. After all a hand bound in anothers was one less hand that could be used with a weapon. It was an empty gesture for Djinn, instead of halving his effectiveness and keeping him close to a potential energy it only reduced it by a sixth. But it was such a tradition that it did not matter; it made them more comfortable and it was considered polite. "Hi, I was wondering if you had anything interesting to sell or trade. Maybe some plants or seeds? Or maybe books?" He was very conscious about the way he talked, it was thickly accented and he often felt he sounded like a child. The language had all the wrong sounds, they always seemed to change at random times too! He wished more people spoke his tongue.
The fellow smirked and opted to introduce himself. "Aye, settle down now. We ought to make introductions eh? Me name is Svantos. And you are?" Djinn closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. This was not the first time he was rebuked for not introducing himself and getting ahead of himself. He internally grimaced at the thought of Crylon. "Ah, uh, many apologies. I am Wa'Djinnabi Psomatik re Ahnatep." He indicated via his hands that he was pleased to meet Svantos and was regretful for his misstep. It was likely lost on the fellow, but sometimes those sorts of actions are automatic. Svantos' eyes went wide at the long name and chuckled. " I am sorry I asked." His eyes went thoughtful and he scratched his stubbled chin. "As for your request. We might, follow me down to the hold. Now that yous mention it I won me a few books in a game of cards back in Nyka. Not entirely sure what to do with em but figured they were valuable enough" He turned his head to one side to keep the conversation going as he strolled off to a set of incredibly narrow stairs. "As for seeds and plants, can't say we have anything of the sort. We gots some grain you could paw through if ya had the mind to." He shrugged and left Djinn in a compact but oddly comfortable dining area.
Every Svefra ship seemed to have a different layout and this one was more of single family ship. The lia's was larger and probably held two or three families, but this particular ship was not bad. If Djinn had to live at sea, he would want the well appointed confines of this ship. It actually reminded him of his home. It sported a few cushions and rugs with an copper wood burning stone towards the rear of the ship. A low table sat in the middle and appeared to be one of the few permanent structures in this part of the ship. Over the kitchen area were cabinets and these strange panels that folded out to serve as food preparation areas. He only knew this was their purpose because they were currently deployed and holding ears of corn and other vegetables. Something caught his eye about the corn. Unlike the yellow corn he grew in his fields that fall. This kind had red husks and red kernels. He wandered over to the ear of corn and inspected it. It was not quite the same he absentmindedly noted. It was longer and thinner on the whole. The grains were also larger but fewer. He gave the dried, rust colored cob a sniff; it smelled... almost spicier. Naturally it wasn't the smell of something that burned the tongue, just much more fragrant. Perhaps he was smelling the cooking spice from this family's cooking. Speaking of, the family must have been off the ship because he hadn't seen hide nor hair of anyone.
"Ah I see you've found the grain" Came the familiar voice of his newest potential trade partner, "You can have that one for a copper or 12 of em for a silver if it takes your fancy." Djinn stared at the Svefra, shocked. This man was really good. Within a few moments he assessed the situation and had made him a deal. Chagrined, he smiled and nodded. "Alright, I'll take the lot. So what have you got for me?" He pocketed the cob and wandered over to see what Svantos had under his arms. "Lessee here, I've got this journal from the farmer I won that poker game. He actually sold me the corn too." He tossed the book down which Djinn immediately snatched up. He flipped through it a bit as Svantos went on. In neat, cramped writing the first page read Almanac, Property of Jedumia. There was all sorts of interesting things in it, notes on soil, watering, pests and how to deal with them. There were tables of weather and planting times for various crops. He wasn't sure how useful it was because it was probably for Nyka. But there was a lot of information and wisdom. He looked up at Svantos, who shrewdly assessed him. "I sorry, what?" His eyes twinkled in mirth.
"This next one is a book I got from a ranger fellow. Said he didn't need it anymore and traded for a jug of rum." The next book looked like it was falling apart. The pages were tattered and just as often loose of its bindings. The covered stains in the shape of rings and the indentation of what looked like a table or chair leg. The book was thoroughly abused. He eyed Svantos with a questioning look. "Hear me out" He raised his hands defensively, "You said you were looking for plants, that's what this is about friend. Look, you'll see." Djinn shrugged and opened up the mess and shuffled through a few of the papers. He thought he found a title page that read Herbs, plants and fungi of the forest: a guide for potions and poisons. It was also written in a clean hand writing thought the style was far more ornate. Unfortunately it was marred by blotches of ink and a few of the pages were stuck together by what looked like wine. He pawed through some of the pages. It was utter chaos. He was just as likely to find beautifully rendered naturalist drawings as he was to find messily scrawled notes. It looked like it was originally a guide but was then passed on to others who made their additions. What looked like 4 or 5 other styles of writing were present, sometimes even crossing out the other.
Djinn had his reservations about this other book. On one hand, it was a disaster. There were obvious places that were not in any way salvageable. But... it did have the potential of much passed down wisdom from several sources. Maybe he could practice his common by compiling the mess into a single book. He shrugged and looked to Svantos for the third book. "This isn't anything special, I just don't need it." He handed the book over, "It's blank. Thought I could use it for something but I dunno. Kinda hate writing and the wife already has a recipe book." He shrugged again.
Book, Average (50 GM)* 2 = 100 GM
12 Flint (mizahar analog) cobs of corn = 1 SM
Book, Blank = 3 GM
Total = 103 GM 1 SM
WC: 1597
There was one nice thing to not having a winter these strange past few years: Early planting. With Spring taking up the slack of the missing Winter, Spring started early and thus a clever farmer could get the jump on the planting and growing season. Dawson, the superstitious farmer, refused to do so however. He claimed that "It ain't right. Spring starts when the towers go green and that ain't happen yet. You go down to zeltiva and tell me what color the tower is." It didn't really matter to Djinn, much of the winter was letting the fields go fallow, something to do with mulch and compost. He had much to learn about how growing exactly worked.
It was on such a fine false spring day that a pod of Svefra sailed up to their dock and set up for trade. So far the relationship with the local sea faring people had been going pretty well. They often came by with bits of rumor or curiosities to sell or buy. It was with a swell of pride that Djinn was able to sell some of the crops they grew over the summer and fall as welcome provisions. The trips between ports and cities were long and enjoying some fresh vegetables was enough to keep the svefra from turning pirate on them. Dawson once commented that "you never bite the hand that feeds you, or you don't get fed." The more the svefra bought their produce the less likely they would be to cheat or steal from them, whatever their cultural norms were.
Djinn was not the first one to visit the blue eyed men and women. Lynneah, a face who Djinn was increasingly seeing from afar, was firmly but emphatically arguing with a woman who was probably the Lia over the price and quantity of provisions they were selling. He wished them both good luck in their commerce and looked about for someone who he could talk to. "Aye, what'cha about friend." A young man said with a lopsided smile. Djinn returned the smile and offered a hand. Shaking hands was how many of these humans symbolicly presented trust. After all a hand bound in anothers was one less hand that could be used with a weapon. It was an empty gesture for Djinn, instead of halving his effectiveness and keeping him close to a potential energy it only reduced it by a sixth. But it was such a tradition that it did not matter; it made them more comfortable and it was considered polite. "Hi, I was wondering if you had anything interesting to sell or trade. Maybe some plants or seeds? Or maybe books?" He was very conscious about the way he talked, it was thickly accented and he often felt he sounded like a child. The language had all the wrong sounds, they always seemed to change at random times too! He wished more people spoke his tongue.
The fellow smirked and opted to introduce himself. "Aye, settle down now. We ought to make introductions eh? Me name is Svantos. And you are?" Djinn closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. This was not the first time he was rebuked for not introducing himself and getting ahead of himself. He internally grimaced at the thought of Crylon. "Ah, uh, many apologies. I am Wa'Djinnabi Psomatik re Ahnatep." He indicated via his hands that he was pleased to meet Svantos and was regretful for his misstep. It was likely lost on the fellow, but sometimes those sorts of actions are automatic. Svantos' eyes went wide at the long name and chuckled. " I am sorry I asked." His eyes went thoughtful and he scratched his stubbled chin. "As for your request. We might, follow me down to the hold. Now that yous mention it I won me a few books in a game of cards back in Nyka. Not entirely sure what to do with em but figured they were valuable enough" He turned his head to one side to keep the conversation going as he strolled off to a set of incredibly narrow stairs. "As for seeds and plants, can't say we have anything of the sort. We gots some grain you could paw through if ya had the mind to." He shrugged and left Djinn in a compact but oddly comfortable dining area.
Every Svefra ship seemed to have a different layout and this one was more of single family ship. The lia's was larger and probably held two or three families, but this particular ship was not bad. If Djinn had to live at sea, he would want the well appointed confines of this ship. It actually reminded him of his home. It sported a few cushions and rugs with an copper wood burning stone towards the rear of the ship. A low table sat in the middle and appeared to be one of the few permanent structures in this part of the ship. Over the kitchen area were cabinets and these strange panels that folded out to serve as food preparation areas. He only knew this was their purpose because they were currently deployed and holding ears of corn and other vegetables. Something caught his eye about the corn. Unlike the yellow corn he grew in his fields that fall. This kind had red husks and red kernels. He wandered over to the ear of corn and inspected it. It was not quite the same he absentmindedly noted. It was longer and thinner on the whole. The grains were also larger but fewer. He gave the dried, rust colored cob a sniff; it smelled... almost spicier. Naturally it wasn't the smell of something that burned the tongue, just much more fragrant. Perhaps he was smelling the cooking spice from this family's cooking. Speaking of, the family must have been off the ship because he hadn't seen hide nor hair of anyone.
"Ah I see you've found the grain" Came the familiar voice of his newest potential trade partner, "You can have that one for a copper or 12 of em for a silver if it takes your fancy." Djinn stared at the Svefra, shocked. This man was really good. Within a few moments he assessed the situation and had made him a deal. Chagrined, he smiled and nodded. "Alright, I'll take the lot. So what have you got for me?" He pocketed the cob and wandered over to see what Svantos had under his arms. "Lessee here, I've got this journal from the farmer I won that poker game. He actually sold me the corn too." He tossed the book down which Djinn immediately snatched up. He flipped through it a bit as Svantos went on. In neat, cramped writing the first page read Almanac, Property of Jedumia. There was all sorts of interesting things in it, notes on soil, watering, pests and how to deal with them. There were tables of weather and planting times for various crops. He wasn't sure how useful it was because it was probably for Nyka. But there was a lot of information and wisdom. He looked up at Svantos, who shrewdly assessed him. "I sorry, what?" His eyes twinkled in mirth.
"This next one is a book I got from a ranger fellow. Said he didn't need it anymore and traded for a jug of rum." The next book looked like it was falling apart. The pages were tattered and just as often loose of its bindings. The covered stains in the shape of rings and the indentation of what looked like a table or chair leg. The book was thoroughly abused. He eyed Svantos with a questioning look. "Hear me out" He raised his hands defensively, "You said you were looking for plants, that's what this is about friend. Look, you'll see." Djinn shrugged and opened up the mess and shuffled through a few of the papers. He thought he found a title page that read Herbs, plants and fungi of the forest: a guide for potions and poisons. It was also written in a clean hand writing thought the style was far more ornate. Unfortunately it was marred by blotches of ink and a few of the pages were stuck together by what looked like wine. He pawed through some of the pages. It was utter chaos. He was just as likely to find beautifully rendered naturalist drawings as he was to find messily scrawled notes. It looked like it was originally a guide but was then passed on to others who made their additions. What looked like 4 or 5 other styles of writing were present, sometimes even crossing out the other.
Djinn had his reservations about this other book. On one hand, it was a disaster. There were obvious places that were not in any way salvageable. But... it did have the potential of much passed down wisdom from several sources. Maybe he could practice his common by compiling the mess into a single book. He shrugged and looked to Svantos for the third book. "This isn't anything special, I just don't need it." He handed the book over, "It's blank. Thought I could use it for something but I dunno. Kinda hate writing and the wife already has a recipe book." He shrugged again.
Book, Average (50 GM)* 2 = 100 GM
12 Flint (mizahar analog) cobs of corn = 1 SM
Book, Blank = 3 GM
Total = 103 GM 1 SM
WC: 1597
