Timestamp: 5th of Summer, 519 A.V.
Vasin had managed to in previous days clear about an acre of land which involved the removal of woody brush, soft brush, rocks, and stumps. The area he had cleared was for the Manor which supplies on the beach had been gathered for. Constantly working for two days straight Vasin had done it in a timely fashion with the help of his Mule Tack. But there was a problem, they needed more than just an acre of land. They needed to clear land for farming and other things, and the most pressing of these things was what he was about to commit to today. Vasin had decided to clear a swath of land going from the beach to the land he had already cleared. It was going to be a wide cart trail so that they could move the supplies from the beach to the area where the supplies were needed. This should in theory as Vasin thought about it, only take about a day. Indeed there was considerably a lot less to clear when talking about this sort of project, a lot less wide in scope. So, standing there Vasin held a hatchet in his hand. Tack was close by, tied up to a tree eating some feed waiting for Vasin to require his services. A warm breeze blew through the area, rustling leaves. It was quiet this morning, the birds probably had already taken notice of them. They typically went quiet when he started to work at clearing an area.
First thing was first, the woody brush which was going to be in the way of the hoe and rake. That was what the hatchet was for, and so he walked over to a grouping of the woody brush. Thick wooden stocks bunched up together, competing for space amongst all the other brush on the forest floor. Vasin knelt down and grabbed a hold of the stalk of the largest plant of the bunch. Bringing the hatchet back he then whacked down on it, towards the base. The hatchet embedded into the wood and then he pulled it back with a start. Bringing it back again, his muscles tightened and then he unleashed that gathered potential energy. Chop! He chopped right through it and then tossed the brush to the side. Vasin then reached over for another grabbing it once more, pulling up on it, and then chopping at it. One to three chops requires for each one. Though he found that the more wet or green the wood was, the harder it was to cut. The dry stuff snapped pretty easy as he whacked away at it. As he worked and chopped away at the woody brush he imagined the path ahead. Looking at how wide he would need to clear a path he would set himself to a clearing just enough for a cart to pass through. A series of limbs and woody brush, as well as the occasional small bush, would be piled up along this path he was cutting through.
He went from grouping to grouping like this, pocket to pocket as he cut woody stock after woody stock. The handle of the hatchet felt warm as he started to reach the clearing he had made. His knees stuck with dirt from kneeling on the forest floor Vasin cut down another one. He didn't stop cutting until he had completely gotten rid of the stuff that was in the way of a cart trail. Then, when he had finished cutting down the woody brush he would go along the path he was clearing to gather the woody brush. Piling it up in his arms as he stepped through the remaining brush. Leaves crunching under his feet as the load got heavier and more awkward to carry. He brought what he could to the beach and placed it along with the stumps he had pulled the previous day. What he couldn't get on the first trip he would get on a second or third. Then, once he had moved that stuff to the beach he decided to double-check his work. Patroling the area he had moved through looking for anything he had missed. Scrutinizing the ground for anything that needed to be removed.
Vasin had managed to in previous days clear about an acre of land which involved the removal of woody brush, soft brush, rocks, and stumps. The area he had cleared was for the Manor which supplies on the beach had been gathered for. Constantly working for two days straight Vasin had done it in a timely fashion with the help of his Mule Tack. But there was a problem, they needed more than just an acre of land. They needed to clear land for farming and other things, and the most pressing of these things was what he was about to commit to today. Vasin had decided to clear a swath of land going from the beach to the land he had already cleared. It was going to be a wide cart trail so that they could move the supplies from the beach to the area where the supplies were needed. This should in theory as Vasin thought about it, only take about a day. Indeed there was considerably a lot less to clear when talking about this sort of project, a lot less wide in scope. So, standing there Vasin held a hatchet in his hand. Tack was close by, tied up to a tree eating some feed waiting for Vasin to require his services. A warm breeze blew through the area, rustling leaves. It was quiet this morning, the birds probably had already taken notice of them. They typically went quiet when he started to work at clearing an area.
First thing was first, the woody brush which was going to be in the way of the hoe and rake. That was what the hatchet was for, and so he walked over to a grouping of the woody brush. Thick wooden stocks bunched up together, competing for space amongst all the other brush on the forest floor. Vasin knelt down and grabbed a hold of the stalk of the largest plant of the bunch. Bringing the hatchet back he then whacked down on it, towards the base. The hatchet embedded into the wood and then he pulled it back with a start. Bringing it back again, his muscles tightened and then he unleashed that gathered potential energy. Chop! He chopped right through it and then tossed the brush to the side. Vasin then reached over for another grabbing it once more, pulling up on it, and then chopping at it. One to three chops requires for each one. Though he found that the more wet or green the wood was, the harder it was to cut. The dry stuff snapped pretty easy as he whacked away at it. As he worked and chopped away at the woody brush he imagined the path ahead. Looking at how wide he would need to clear a path he would set himself to a clearing just enough for a cart to pass through. A series of limbs and woody brush, as well as the occasional small bush, would be piled up along this path he was cutting through.
He went from grouping to grouping like this, pocket to pocket as he cut woody stock after woody stock. The handle of the hatchet felt warm as he started to reach the clearing he had made. His knees stuck with dirt from kneeling on the forest floor Vasin cut down another one. He didn't stop cutting until he had completely gotten rid of the stuff that was in the way of a cart trail. Then, when he had finished cutting down the woody brush he would go along the path he was clearing to gather the woody brush. Piling it up in his arms as he stepped through the remaining brush. Leaves crunching under his feet as the load got heavier and more awkward to carry. He brought what he could to the beach and placed it along with the stumps he had pulled the previous day. What he couldn't get on the first trip he would get on a second or third. Then, once he had moved that stuff to the beach he decided to double-check his work. Patroling the area he had moved through looking for anything he had missed. Scrutinizing the ground for anything that needed to be removed.