Closed Job Thread Gardening #2

[Saej]

¤

Winter 57 515AV

Still, winter continued her icy gaze on all of Mizahar. This marked the coldest part of the season yet with Lhavit’s patrons bundled up against the elements; everyone looked like an Okomo with their furs piled on thick giving almost everyone but the bravest a round appearance. All hearths and fireplaces were set blazing, if you had the coin. The poorest suffered miserably, seemingly never free from the bitter frost unless working somewhere indoors or in a tavern. Infact quite a few of the lower class crowded the taverns recently finding it easier to be warmed by body heat and mead rather than spare a kina for wood, more enjoyable as well. Despite the mildly morose circumstances for their gathering friendships were formed under the bond of ale while songs of merrier times were sung out of key, arm in arm, with warm, booze induced grins on their faces.

Saej found herself in Obsidian Club, her favorite pub, eating a hunk of meat and some bread. She was polishing off her first mug of ale and sat neatly by the roaring fireplace at a table full of strangers. Star’s Shadow was small, tiny in fact, but was no different than any other pub at this time with its capacity filled to the brim. She was elbow to elbow with a trio of men sat around a circular table, neither parties minded each other’s company, the men were drinking wine and partially drunk even at this hour in the afternoon. Earlier this morning the Inarta had been woken to Miss Solla rapping at her door to let her know that Saej could come in at the first bell of the evening rather than start in the morning. Saej gladly slept in and then spent the first part of her day at the pub, realising she would save on firewood if she did that rather than hang out at home. She was enjoying keeping to herself, gingerly eating her meal and watching the fire but soon the men at her table began getting louder. Her attention wavered to them and she raised her hand to order another drink, the barmaid nodded and prepared Saej’s second mug*.
“Ye, a sand dweller,” the first man enunciated through a swig out of his pitcher. “Says he’s been here since late summer.”
“Aye but what did he have to say, Brutus,” prodded the second man.
Brutus spoke up, “Told me a ghastly tale about he’s life in the sands, so he did.” The man shivered, “Sounds like they have Zith even out in the desert.”
Saej received her mug and drank from it with her interested peaked.
“Must have been gruesome for sure,” came the third man, “if ya akin it to the Zith.”
“Oh it was,” Brutus said in earnest, “Said he’s mother was strung up with her belly hung out from a pole--,” he paused for dramatic effect, “and they ain’t even got no trees.”
The third man drank from his mug thoughtfully while the second man stared into his cup, a somber silence fell over the table. Saej was intrigued, drinking her ale to half full since the conversation started. A familiar bubbliness started to well inside of her as the effects from the beer began to take hold. She hope they would speak more but the subject changed to fishing and she returned her focus to the fire. After about thirty chimes her meal and mead were finished and she realised if she didn’t leave soon she would be late for work.

[Saej]

¤

Saej arrived to Okomo Estates in high spirits, the story from earlier still buzzing in her mind. The story wasn’t the only thing buzzing. Solla was waiting for Saej with her hands on her hips.
“Half past the first bell, if my sundial is positioned correct,” Miss Solla said snidely. Saej was hit in the face with the words as if struck by a brick, she walked up to Solla with her tail between her legs. Solla sniffed at Saej, “And ye stink of mead.”
The young woman began to reply but Solla raised a hand, “I don’t need yer excuses. If you’re so warm and fuzzy here.” She grabbed a shovel and shoved it at Saej who grasped it with both hands in surprise, at a loss for words.
“Go ahead and shovel my backyard walkways. I expect it to look pretty. You need to work off that stench before I send ye on my task for today.” Saej was about to protest but Solla had already turned and went inside her house, the door slamming in the middle of Saej speaking.
“I had only,” the door slammed shut, “...had a pitcher for lunch.” She sighed and got to work.


Solla’s backyard had nearly a foot of snow throughout. Saej, of course, started at the beginning where the gate opened.She first had to carve out the front of the gate, as it opened outwards, to even open the door. After that was completed she swung open the door and began her first task. Unlike the shed work this was freezing her to the bone,her fingers were beginning to stiffen after only ten chimes worth of work. Each time she dug the shovel into the snow, careful not to break up the ground, she huffed and puffed from the physical labor.

The backyard walkway was shaped in a looping “Y” forking off in the middle. One went and met the infamous shed while the second wound around a half dozen bushes and to another gate which met the street behind her house. It took nearly one grueling, frigid hour but eventually she was finished and Solla was right, Saej hardly felt tipsy any longer. Once, while shoveling the last bit that met the shed, she struck the base of the structure with the shovel.
“Shyke,” she mumbled. As soon as the words flew from her mouth a large pile of snow fell from the roof directly onto her, covering her in its cold embrace. She felt like crying from frustration as she threw the shovel down and shook the snow off of her. Truly this was the worst season to work outside in. With that part of the walkway finished she went to the second part of the “Y” and began her chore again. The bushes that she shoveled out the snow around were still green but covered on the tops in half a foot of snow. She thought they looked like cakes with the snow covering. Once she was finished, and the walking path even in all places, she returned to Solla a new and very sober woman.

[Saej]

¤

Solla was well satisfied and tasked Saej with the next order of business, Saej was to visit a friend of Solla’s, who lived in the neighborhood, and check up on her indoor plants. Nothing serious, had been stressed, or else Saej wouldn’t be doing the work. Just some yellow leaves had been falling off of her houseplants. Saej took to the streets of the Estate, “just four houses down”, rang Miss Solla’s words in the Inarta’s fiery-red head as she walked the familiar path.

Finally there Saej knocked on the door to a rather sizable house and was greeted by a butler. The house was as large inside as it was outside with minimal, but pricey, furnishings adding to the spaciousness. She was taken into the left wing of the house and subsequently a sunroom where the mistress of the home was waiting for her. The room had many tall windows and a couple of couches seated around a low coffee table in the middle of the room. Lining the windows were a whole host of indoor plants such as aloe, balfour, agave, and a couple of spider plants just like Saej had. Many were yellow, as Miss Solla had said. The mistress expressed her fears for the plants well being's and Saej quelled the fears, echoing Miss Solla’s words that the problems were only minor. Truth be told she was unsure at this time but held in good faith that Miss Solla was correct. Any damage was likely minor and reversible. With her head on straight the woman left Saej to the plants.

The first plant Saej inspected was an agave. Its leaves were yellowed and beginning to fall off. She put her finger into the soil and noticed it was not only very moist but also cold. This one merely needed to be moved from the window a foot or so and watered much less than what it was. It seemed to be a victim of over-loving. The same could be said of a large aloe plant in the corner, much more of the cold and it likely would die. Due to winter’s cold, the soil didn’t dry nearly as fast as in warmer months so they didn’t need to be watered as much. Saej was impressed at the size of most of the houseplants and guessed that Solla made regular trips to visit the woman’s plants who seemed to be blessed with simple ignorance at how to take care of base vegetation needs. Over watering was easy enough to figure out, especially if you’ve had plants for as long as she had being if their size was any hint to their age.

An aluminum plant, whose name she knew not of, and a balfour plant, which she actually owned herself but not in such a grand stature, both had oddly misshapen leaves. Saej pondered this for awhile as she there multiple causes for the affliction. Certainly some of the leaves were too small and the hilly, oddly shapes were unnatural for each houseplants as the the larger and more popular leaves were oblong in proportion. She ran the aluminum plant’s leaves through her fingers and then the balfour’s leaves, which were leathery to the touch, both were smooth and devoid of bumps. Their smoothness was a good sign that neither bug nor disease had sullied them. With those causes ruled out she discerned that they must lack proper nutrients and made a mental note to let the woman know she would need to fertilize them to get her plants back on track.


Three peperomia, which Saej didn’t know the name for either and simply thought as, “the big plant with red stems”, sat around the table and couches in large red pots made of clay. The plants themselves were a foot tall and a foot wide, but the leaves were a sickly yellow and wilted. She scratched her head at the alien plant. When she touched the soil it was horribly damp. Surely once again over watering was the culprit for the sad state all three of these plants were in. Solla was right that all of the problems were minor.


Saej left the sunroom and retrieved the lady of the house from the kitchen. She informed her of the over watering and, like a doctor diagnosing a patient, gave the woman her treatment options.
“Either water every four or five days, if you remember, or just wait until the topsoil is mostly dry to water them again. Also these,” she motioned to the aluminum plant and balfour, “need some more nutrients. If you want your leaves all the same size and shape you should fertilize them.” The woman looked relieved and thanked Saej, sheepishly admitting she watered them daily and never could remember what Solla told her to do for them. Now that she was finished playing nurse she left the house and returned, once again, to Solla in order to see if her work was done. It was nearly three-quarters into the third bell of the day.

[Saej]

¤

The dreadhead’s final order of business was to travel to The Shooting Star and pick up seeds for Solla from a merchant by the name of Talom. He was a foreigner and someone she called a Benshira, as was explained, and Saej might have trouble understanding him. Saej told her she should have no problems, though, as in her home of Windreach native Nari speakers had an extremely thick accent and she found she could understand them with ease.

As she made her way through the dining area, feeling out of place among the lush velvet tables and finely crafted chairs seated at them, she noticed several large paintings of various constellations whose names she didn’t know. The portraits looked grand hung on the wall as a stark contrast to the eating area’s theme of a plush white. She secretly wished she knew more about the night sky in order to know where each constellation was in their home among the stars. She stood and gazed at them for several minutes before realising she wasn’t able to lollygag and gawk, there wasn’t enough time for that, and she pressed onwards up the stairs on the lefthand side, as guided by a waitress, to the suite in which Talom was located.

‘One… two… three…’, doors she counted in order to get to Talom’s suite. He was the fourth room down, the waitress told her, and upon knocking thrice the door opened. Immediately she was greeted by the overwhelming stench of wine and tobacco.
“A visitor!?” Talom said in a surprised tone. He was an older man, face well weathered by the sands with deep wrinkles adding character to his face. His eyes were a cornflower blue, unaffected by his obvious age, accented not only by the brown of his skin but by the rich white color of the cloth wrap her wore around his head as a hat, seemingly cut from the decor of The Shooting Star itself.
“Come in, come in, please!” He bequested her. His accent was thick indeed and she couldn’t tell if he slurred by his obvious intoxication, if the way he swayed and the smell was any indicator, or if he naturally spoke that way. She decided on both. With the door still opened he sat on a plush couch surrounded by textiles of every color and shade, many with elaborate patterns on them. They were draped around the couch like a sort of wall. He motioned for her to shut the door and come in and sit with him. Truth be told the easy going Inarta was taken aback by this show of hospitality, she didn’t come here for a visit, but she knew she was Miss Solla’s representative and sat down with him on the couch all the same.

“I don’t remember ordering a concubine,” his words came in a passing manner and it took Saej a breath to figure out what he meant, Miss Solla wasn’t lying about the accent. Eventually she laughed.
“What’s funny?” he asked in a light tone.
“I’m not a whore,” she snorted, still chuckling, “I’m here to pick up seeds for Miss Solla.”
“Ohhh! Oh by the god’s my apologies Miss…,” he inquired for her name, “I nearly forgot about Solla Raike’s inquiry for desert sunflower seeds.”
“Saej,” she replied to his question of her name and confessed, “I know you’re called Talom.”
“Saej! I’ll get those for you. Desert sunflowers, very pretty. Common where I’m from for certainly rare among the people of Lhavit. She must keep a pretty garden!” He got up from his place on the couch and began rummaging through an elegant chest not five paces away from where they sat.
Saej moved to follow him but he stopped her, “Please! Have a seat! I don’t often have visitors.” The way he pronounced visitors had a slight trill, she enjoyed the way he spoke but itched to leave, she couldn’t stay long.
“You know,” he started, “I’ve been travelling for a while but the snow always bites me in the arse.”
Saej agreed, “Snow isn’t my friend either. I say we should skip winter.” She favored late summer and fall. He laughed again.
“Very true, just have an ever-lasting summer. One would think the glaring rays and heat of the desert couldn’t be missed but by each year I spend away from my home I find myself missing it more and more.” Saej shifted on her spot on the couch. Was this the man that… Brutus, that wa his name, spoke of earlier? “The desert you say,” she prodded, “That’s a long way from here, ser.”
It was taking him ages to find the seeds and although she was enjoying her time she knew Solla was waiting back at the Estates, she leaned forward to grab a glimpse at what he was doing. His hands passed over a large leather bound book that she couldn’t see the name of and set it down on the other side of the chest. Still rummaging he replied, “Yes, I’ve been travelling for a long time, back and forth, back and forth. Selling my wares for almost twenty years now,” his voice broke as he spoke the next part, “Ever since, well, ever since there was an accident which prompted me to leave.” Standing became too much for him all at once and he sat down on the floor with a comical thud, legs splayed out adding to the comicalness. ‘Oh Zintilla he is the one,’ realising simultaneously this man was a drunk and loved to storytell.

“Yes, it was my poor mother.” He reached above him to the table and pulled down from its heights a bottle of wine, “Cherry-raspberry?” He offered. This became a dilemma for Saej as she internally fought with herself for a few moments on the choice while he drank fully from the bottle using his free hand to catch any spilled liquid. There was little and the corners of his salt and pepper mustache were stained momentarily mahogany until he wiped the access with the back of his hand.
“Wine?” he offered for a second time. Against her better judgement she said no, realising if she showed back up on Solla’s doorstep petched up yet again she would be out of a job.
“Suit yourself,” he stated matter-of-factly and drank again from its depths until it was half finished. She was never going to leave and began thinking up an excuse to tell Miss Solla, ‘the truth is going to have to do, this man is a drunkard.’

“Yes, like I said. My own mother,” he started his story. One he had told many times,”We had taken in a vagabond, not much older than myself at the time. He stayed with us long enough to learn our names, where our valuables were kept, even travelled with us for a few weeks.” He trailed off and stood up, patting his chest and looking on the floor. Finally Talom turned his head to the table where the bottle once stood and grabbed from it a pipe filled with Blue Vision, something familiar to Saej as she had two ounces of it herself back at home. With a small stick from the fire he got the pipe going and passed it off to Saej, noticing the hungry look in her eyes. It wasn’t much of a high from, what she called, bluvi, more of just a relaxed and calm feeling. She accepted the pipe graciously and smoked from it, blowing out smoke rings from her exhale. He nodded and accepted it back, “as it turns out not only was he a thief but also a murderer.” A tear welled in his eye and he wiped it away, “One night I heard a cry but thought it only a jackal. Woke up in the morning and the man, Yakato as he was called but like as not wasn’t even his real name, was gone. My mother, OH my mother!” He took a long drag from the pipe, “She was strung up on a pole he carried with him everywhere, we were none the wiser and thought it just a walking stick, Her innards were splayed about. A true madman. And to think he was with us for so long and we never knew. All of our valuables save for what was in my own tent and my brothers were gone. We think she must have came up on him in the night while he was doing the thievery and he took her life.” He wiped at his eyes with his cowl. "Pardon my leaking eyes, this happens every time I drink.” Saej sat awkwardly, not sure if she should comfort the man but knew she should say something.
He passed her the pipe and she spoke, “Did they ever catch him, the law I mean?”
A cry rang out from his mouth and he covered his face with his hands, “OH!! No they didn’t. Please, speak no more. Let this just be a statement to you to watch whom’s company you keep.” This made Saej even more awkward and wild thoughts ran through her head. What was this man on about, perhaps a guilty conscious made him speak about it, Talom could even be the man who did it. She ran her fingers along her dress in a fidget.
“You must think me mad, to speak so openly about it,” he said, supposedly sensing her awkwardness. “It just, it does me good to remember her, even in such a violent way. And the drink,” he glanced sordidly at the bottle, “she doesn’t let me forget. It was the worst thing that happened to me. My hometown, these things aren’t common but often go without the killer being found. Very easy to sneak through the cracks… OH~!” He jumped at this thought, seemingly surprised by something. From the depths of his robes he pulled out a small leather pouch. “Here, I had the seeds all along.” He handed both the seeds and the pipe to her again, almost dropping both in his drunken state. She grabbed them from him clumsily, still in a state of shock and awe. Were all Benshira like this? Smoking yet again from the pipe the familiar bluvi calmness settled over her and she agreed with the state, she needed to calm down. Surely she would be missed by Miss Solla if she wound up dead by this man’s hand.

Talom sat down beside her and told her more of the Benshira, confessing many were blessed of humility and generosity, this was enough to quell the rest of her fears and they sat together merrily smoking his pipe until it was gone speaking of the recent ghost sighting in the library. He told her he had once seen a ghost, though she didn’t believe him, but he protested saying “By my own mother’s grave I swear it!” The man made her laugh. With the pipe finished she returned to Miss Solla, feeling the affects of the pipe but no worse for wear and Miss Solla none the wiser. She wasn't even upset Saej took nearly an entire bell and a half to return Miss Solla was the happy to have her seeds. Saej was glad to have spent time with the man and returned home satisfied that Benshira were quirky and interesting people.

[Saej]

¤

*-6 topaz kina from her two drinks at the bar

[Brandon Blackwing]

SAEJ

XP:

• Observation +4
• Socialization +2
• Body building +1
• Persuasion +1
• Investigation +1
• Gardening+1

Lore:

• Lhavit: Obsidian Club
• Assessing the health of potted plants
• The problems of overwatering potted plants
• Lhavit: Shooting Star Inn
• Benshira: Desert Dwellers
• Benshira: Generous and modest people

Notes:
Well, that Benshira dude was an interesting Character for sure! I really did enjoy his story, along with the rest of the thread

Please remove or edit your post in the request thread.
Also please track your newly awarded xp and lores in your CS so both staff and graders alike can keep on grading your threads
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credit goes to Adelaide Sitai