17 Winter 512 A.V. 7th Bell
On the seventh chime from the church bells, Amaria awoke. "Another beautiful, but cold, winter day in Zeltiva it seems." She thought to herself. She clambered out of bed, yawned once, and grabbed her shirt from her chair. After some minor stretching, she started her daily routine. "Ahh, looks like it's time to get warmed up," she spoke to herself. Walking over to her punching bag, she flexed her hands, and cracked her knuckles.
After half a bell of practice, and a good deal of sweat, she went to her hearth, and started to work on breakfast. Cooking up 2 eggs, she added some cheese, and poured out a glass of milk to go with it. In a separate bowl, she warmed up some water over her hearth, and added a few of her oats to it, setting it off to the side afterwards. When everything was set and finished cooking, she grabbed her pint of honey and poured a little of that over her oats, as well as crushing some of her walnuts and adding those as well.
Breakfast finished and eaten, morning workout finished, and 8 chimes from the church bell, she finished getting ready. Throwing on her pants and boots, she picked up her builders kit, and checked her supplies. After confirming her tools were in order, she went back over to her bed, and grabbed her fathers bandana. Pulling her hair back she put on the bandana, cracked her neck, and went off to work.
After a small jog through town, builders kit in hand, she arrived at the shipyard after 15 chimes, and walked in, a little early as was her norm. Upon walking in, she heard the familiar sounds of some of the men who showed up earlier than herself. When she got her tools set down, the normal shout of Williar, the mast builder and resident jester despite his age, caught her attention. He was one of the older and more experienced of the shipwrights, being almost 68 now. His receding hairline and grey hair may have given his age away, but his sharp looks, childish eyes, and well kept and maintained body would have made you believe you were looking at a man 20 years younger. He was one of her fathers best friends before his passing though, and Willar was also the kindest one to her after his death, filling in for her father where he could, despite being almost 10 years older than him, and having naught a child of his own.
"Amy, my girl! As beautiful as our ship here, as always! It's a pleasure to see you well again this chilly morn!" He bowed deeply as he said that, being overly elaborate in his arm movement, which caused her to laugh. "Well thank ya for sayin' so Williar. How's your mast work comin' along mate? Is she going to be a beautiful sail holder as you always seem to do?" She shot him her joyful smile, honestly curious on how it was coming along. "Ahh, my mast? She's coming along wonderfully, I believe she'll be done well before the rest of the ship! I may get to help you with your duties for once my dear!" he laughed as he said this. He was the one who taught her everything he knew as it was, and he knew if she needed help she'd come calling. 15 chimes or so later the morning bell sounded, announcing starting time. Amaria hugged and waved to Williar, agreeing to share a drink that eve.
The work day passed as steady as it could. Amaria's task was a simple job. She only had to sand down some timber and work on the flooring of the second level of the ship. She had some help today, from a pair of her mates, Lorien and Hackaron. They decided on getting all the wood sanded first, as they had the measurements they needed already, then getting the flooring as finished as possible through the day. If all the wood was ready, it'd be a much easier time come when it came to finish the flooring.
Lorien was the quietest member of the entire company, very often giving one sentence, or even one word answers to questions. No one though, not even Williar, would doubt his eyes. If he said it was straight, you would set it how he said; if it was off-center, you'd move it where he stated, simple as that. He was also a very modest and smart young man when he wanted to be. It was also well known after a few drinks loosened him up a bit, he would start to say philosophical tales and ideals he had.
Hackaron was, as the manager put it, the pretty boy of the company. He always put effort into his hair and maintaining his looks, even through more dangerous moments on the job. He was a dedicated and very hard worker though, oftentimes picking up the slack of the newer, or slower shipwrights. He was also one of the best sailors of the group, owning his own smaller vessel that he would take out on nice days to swim from, and fish on during warmer times.
With those two supporting the job, the timber was all sanded, measured, cut, and ready by 12th Bell. After a quick and simple lunch of bread, cheese, and salted beef, they got back to the job at hand, getting three quarters of the deck finished by 17th Bell, at which the bell rang signalling quitting time. Amaria and her companions clambered out of the lower deck, and off the vessel upon that sound, where she met up with Williar. After a brief hello, and hug, they went off with most of the other company to the Kelp Bar.
When the 19th Bell came around Amaria realized that it was time to bid her mates a fond farewell for the evening. She stepped out into the cold evening, letting the 3 drinks she fully drank settle and take a slight less toll on her senses, before setting out. Seeing the beautiful reflection of the moon on the bay, she let her mind wander for a bit, thinking on her friends, and remembering her father. As a tear fell from her cheek at the thought of him, she muttered to herself, "I pray your spirit is still well Father, and hope you are still looking over your daughter." She threw a nearby stone into the bay, as a way of signalling him she was still fit, and continued her walk home to get some sleep so as to be ready for a new day tomorrow.
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