[Flashback] Breathing Life into Earth (Keating)

[Dimitri]

“Stay in yer rows Boy! Are ya blind as well as a bully?”

Dimitri hadn't noticed there to be rows. He looked closer and saw the slightly raised mounds. He continued to pull at the larger weeds, some of them practically small thorny trees. He stayed between the two rows avoiding the smaller weeds now and sweating beneath the hot sun. He was beginning to enjoy the previously unseen order of the rows. Made it easier to focus and deal with. He was beginning to get better at extricating the roots from the earth, beginning to move faster. He wondered why people never seemed to enjoy farming, this wasn't so bad. He continued down the rows, spurred on by the desire to not show weakness.

“I suppose that’s good enough. Go ahead and take a break if you need one… and remember I didn’t say nap either!”

Dimitri ignored this with a wave of his and and continued down the line. As if he were going to give up and make the Knights look bad in front of a farmer. Dimitri found a particularly deep growing weed. It was as tall as his waist but as thick as his arm, covered in sticky hairs. Dimitri planted his feet just in front of it, and bent at the knees. He grasped the plant down near the base at the ground. He pulled hard, using his arms, shoulders, back, and thigh muscles together. At first the plant didnt budge an inch. It then gave a smidgen. He continued to pull hard, not noticing the earth beneath his feet stir. He pushed out a deep breath and exploded upwards. The massive roots sprang free sending dirt clods in every direction, Dimitri falling on to his back as the plant in hand rained dirt down on him. He sat up and turned to the rough man.

"I'll be here before my training tomorrow, on my break, and after my training ends." He fully intended to come as soon as the chaperones let them leave the dorms, to be here while the sun was still hidden and the moon high in the sky. "But until then, I've got work to finish," he stood up, brushed himself off, and turned back to his row.

[Keating Ash]

Keating laughed heartily as Dimitri fell to the ground. “Sure, that’s one way to do it! We’ll make a farmer outta you yet!” he said chuckling as he wiped his face with an old rag from his pocket. The farmer nodded then, listening to the squire, though he seemed to be thinking. The man was preoccupied with the planning of the planting in his mind. It had been too long since this land had been worked properly. Without a doubt, he needed the boys help, though he would not admit it. “Bala, forgive me,” he mumbled under his breath as he turned back to the rows, with their proliferation of weeds. His fingers touched the gnosis mark on his forearm lightly, before he brushed the stray earth from the intertwining lines. With a shake of his head, he pushed his past away and the reasons he had been gone so long, from his mind. Keating bent once more to task with a sigh, there was no help for it. He moved with bent back, and the large hands worked furiously, as if he fought against time herself. And he did, because if the boy didn’t show tomorrow, he’d be in a world of hurt trying to plough the field alone. Fine silt coated his face and arms, and he was lost in the constant and continuous motion. His clothes were wet from the unending movement and the intensity of the sun. Keating refused to look ahead to the rows ahead; he would only focus on the row before him. One more, he assured himself. And then that was past, but there was always another. One more he promised, and after a time, then that too would be behind him. Squinting periodically, his black eyes watched the traitorous sun as it moved across the sky. After a time he called out, “Go on boy. Go home to your Knights if you need to. I’ll finish up here.” A pause then, and he added, “And grab yourself a cup of rain water from the barrel on your way out… Can’t have you passing out on me now can I?” Once more he wiped his face with the now soaked and filthy rag, “Tomorrow’s ploughing. It’ll not be a restful day like this one here… Best get your beauty rest tonight.” Not interested in coddling the boy any more than he had to, Keating bent once more. As long as there was light to see by, he would work. And if he worked a little past that, it was likely he could finish for the ploughing the following day.

[Dimitri]

“Go on boy. Go home to your Knights if you need to. I’ll finish up here.”

Dimitri had zero intentions of returning to the dorms any time soon. He could stay all night if needed, the chaperones didn't care when you returned so long as you did it quietly. He chuckled slightly. If the man thought he was giving up easily he was wrong. He dedicated his entire life, so far and hopefully the rest, to the Order. A simple days work wouldn't break him. If he could swing a sword and shield almost indefinitely, pulling weeds, although new to him, wouldn't be too difficult. He was silently enjoying this change of work too. He could feel different muscles being used as he bent down and pulled the strangling weeds from the rows. Dimitri was happy as long as he was doing something useful toward becoming a better Knight. Whether that was physically working out with stones and weeds, learning a little compassion for the farmers that make Syliras wealthy, or simply changing one opinion of Knights.

Dimitri would finish this field, and he wouldn't be the first to leave. He'd make the man bow out first. Dimitri didn't care that he had further training tomorrow, he'd power through that too. But for now this was his quest, and he was a grand Knight. He continued down his two lines, nearly finished with them, but still many more rows to go. His muscles were tiring, his skin burning from the sun, and he was needing water. But he would not show the first sign of weakness. Call it pride, call it honor, all it was though was pure stubbornness. He attacked the weeds, constantly checking to make sure he was still in line. He finally reached the end and moved two lines over to start again. He was getting a little better at this and was beginning to make a good pace down the new lines.

[Keating Ash]

“Suit yourself boy. But know this, there ain’t no honour in passing out. Don’t those Knights of yours teach you anything useful? Now, go get yer’self a drink. And I’m not asking.” Keating walked over to the rain barrel himself, and drank down two large cup fulls of the cool liquid. Lifting the cup once more, he upended it over his head, letting the cool rivulets run down his face and neck. Dirt lines trailed down his tanned skin in small streams. Again, he wiped his face, the dark stubble longer now than it had been earlier in the day. Turning back he added, face serious, “Because if you do pass out in this field, I’m not picking you up… and you’ll be sleeping in the dirt.” Keating sounded harsh, but in his own gruff way he was looking out for the young squire. Silently, he was grateful for the extra pair of hands, though the man would never have admitted it. It was likely now that they would finish by nightfall, and tomorrow they could focus on the ploughing. And the sooner that was done, the sooner the crop could get growing. With a hand up to shade his eyes from the glare, Keating surveyed the field. No longer was it the choked mass of weeds it had been only days before. He left Dimitri to continue with weed pulling, and he bent to scoop up a large batch of the weedy refuse in his long arms. Carrying the pile across the rows to the old fire pit, the weeds tickled his face, and stuck to his arms, others trailed along the ground grasping for purchase. Once they were dry, he’d burn them, but for now he let them fall near the pit. The burning could wait, until the more important tasks had been completed. Dimitri would hear him grumbling under his breath, that the cart would’ve made this last task easier; he was sure a neighbouring farmer had pilfered it years ago. Back and forth he went, arms full of stinging nettles, and knotted roots. Then his arms were empty again. He was scratched in a hundred places, but the man refused to complain about this aspect of it. Keating only did what needed doing. So much work! Why had he stayed away? Each pass left trails and tendrils behind him of green leaves and stems as they all too easily fell from his arms. Ignoring them, he’d pick them up later. The man and the boy worked and laboured until dusk came, and then they worked harder, but as the light finally dimmed into evening, Keating stopped, finished with the last row. Nodding, his voice rose, “Boy! I don’t want your keepers after me. Go home… Can’t do nothing worthwhile in the dark,” and he winked at Dimitri, “unless there’s a woman near.” He laughed deeply, as he let himself be pleased that the field was clear. “Come when you’re able tomorrow. I’ll be here.” He didn’t say thank you, but neither did he turn away before the squire had a chance to answer. It was an improvement in his rough manners.

[Dimitri]

Dimitri continued to pull weeds until after the man had gotten a drink himself. Dimitri walked over and grabbed the cup. He dipped it in, then dumped it over his head, enjoying the cooling feeling as it ran down his body. He filled it up once more and drank it slowly, knowing drinking too much too fast would make anyone nauseous. As the cool water flowed into his gullet, he thought about how relaxing it felt out here, how a hard day's work provided him with a strong sense of accomplishment.

He put the cup back, and made his way back to his work. His back was sore, but he powered through it as he continued pulling the strangling plants from the earth. His hands were sore, but no more so than had he practiced with his sword for the same amount of time. Hard work was hard work, whether you were a Knight or a farmer. He started to have a greater appreciation for the people who fed the bellies of Syliras.

He watched the man begin gathering the weeds up and depositing in what looked like a fire pit. Dimitri made a conscious decision and began placing the weeds into neater piles. He continued down the lines, faster than he'd been previously working. He continued up and down the lines, leaving neat piles behind, finally getting the technique down pat. Dimitri finished a line and looked up and saw all the large weeds had been pulled. Had it really gone that fast? He heard the man sending him home. Dimitri carried his last pile of weeds to the growing pile in the firepit. It was dark out now. He walked past the man and stopped. "Thank you. I'll be here tomorrow." He then left, to go and collapse into his bed, a satisfying end to a good day.

[Archon]

Illumination of Development Dimitri +4 Farming +4 Bodybuilding +1 Intimidation Lores: Lift with the legs, Respect for the little people, Pulling weeds, Layout of a field Care to see more? : Farming experience for your work, Bodybuilding experience for the heavy lifting and repetitive work, and Intimidation experience for your little attempt. Keating Ash +5 Farming +3 Bodybuilding +2 Teaching +1 Intimidation Lores: Dealing with trespassers, Returning to your roots, A good day's work, There are some respectable Squires Care to see more? : Farming experience for your work and planning on the field, Bodybuilding experience for the long hard work, Teaching experience for your gruff instructions, and Intimidation experience for dealing with the "trespasser". Notes: A nice simple thread that managed to keep a rather dull and repetitive task interesting. Well done!