Solo [ED] Tending the Fields

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While Sylira is by far the most civilized region of Mizahar, countless surprises and encounters await the traveler in its rural wilderness. Called the Wildlands, Syliran's wilderness is comprised of gradual rolling hills in the south that become deep wilderness in the north. Ruins abound throughout the wildlands, and only the well-marked roads are safe.

[ED] Tending the Fields

Postby Wa'Djinnabi on December 1st, 2019, 3:32 am

Timestamp: 20th of Autumn 519

The nature of Wa'djinnabi's work meant that he spent many long days working among the fields of crops. And the 10th of Autumn was no different. There were many chores to be done and he was not the only one to do them. But even with the volunteers working under Dawson's guidance, the hours were long and they were fairly understaffed for everything that needed to get done. They did get time off, naturally, but they were often rare and far between. With the routine Djinn had, he woke with the sun without being prompted, his body dictating through some arcane means that the sun was about to crest the ocean horizon. Wiping gunk from his eyes he yawned and made his way to the main pavilion for his meal. Somehow the cooks were already awake and in full swing of passing out plates of hearty food. Eggs fresh from the chickens and salted meat. He was grateful for the food but he missed the spicy food of his homeland. These humans never had the proper seasoning and it made their food bland. He sighed but munched the simple meal. At least he had food and it was being provided by the meraki.

Afterwards he made his way to the fields, sleepily adjusting his work clothes. He did not have much to wear and did not currently have the funds to get more. Soon though, after the season ended he hoped to have made enough on his wages to get something nice. He waved to Dawson and set to work. Today was weeding and watching for pests among the corn and other vegetables. They would need to fertilize the crops at some point, but luckily today was not that day. He looked up at the sky and squinted at some clouds coming from the east. It seemed it might rain soon, hopefully. Rain was a holy thing in his land, and so Djinn loved the rain, but that was not the reason why he hoped for rain this time around. It had been awhile since the last rain, and they had resorted to watering the crops by hand. Many buckets of stream water and the usage of the the irrigation channels he had mistakenly made had got them through the dry patch, but rain was the main way they watered their crops.

Djinn squatted down to grab some weeds and used a trowel from one of the herbalist kits the meraki had to extract the plant. According to Dawson the plants they considered weeds usually had thick roots that needed to be pulled from the ground or else it would just grow back. He set the plant in his basket and moved on down the row, his knees popping as he stood. They would take the weeds and compost it, but for now they simply had to be pulled from the more domesticated plants' growing area.

Djinn reflected that with the harvest coming up and the work over the summer, he had not had a lot of time to do alchemy. He stooped to grab another weed that was poking a few leaves from the loamy soil. He resolved that in the winter he ought to do some more experiments, maybe produce something useful for Kelski to use. That was the thing about alchemy, much of it was very high concept work and had little practical value. Sure, he could make iron that had a low melting point and be liquid at room temperature, but what then? Is there any use to that? It wouldn't stop it from rusting and eventually it would revert to normal iron. He stored the newly germinated weed in his basket and moved on.

Ah, one of the cornstalks looked a bit stunted, perhaps it was the water? Not enough or too much, though he guessed the former. Djinn closed his eyes and lightly gripped the sturdy plant, he willed the plant to grow and a tingling in his neck spread down his shoulders and through his arms. The plant slowly began to push out new leaves as it grew to match it's fellows, responding to Bala's caress. If he wanted to, he could make the plant start fruiting corn right now and then ripen before his eyes. He had even done so when the cooks requested a specific crop, vegetable or herb. He supposed from their perspective, it was handy being able to ripen things to perfection on command. He would rather use his limited daily usage of the gift to help in situations like this, where a plant was struggling and only needed a little guidance to grow and flourish. And besides, ripening a crop made for more work for him, and he certainly did not need any more of that with the shortage of manpower.


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Last edited by Wa'Djinnabi on December 2nd, 2019, 2:23 am, edited 1 time in total.
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[ED] Tending the Fields

Postby Wa'Djinnabi on December 1st, 2019, 4:15 am

By the time he was done with weeding the corn field, the sun had made it to the arch of the sky and was about to make her way down to the hills in the west. The midday meal consisted of a rare treat, apparently the Svefra had been by and traded some jars of jam and molasses. Which meant the cooks decided they would bake some bread and serve it out with some pastries. Djinn could appreciate the sweet flavor of peach preserves and blackberry jam. He almost did not want to return to work, but Dawson waved him out when he saw Djinn had finished his meal of bread and jam and they made their way to the small orchard.

What Djinn had learned about harvesting the orchard over the field was that when they were in season, tending and harvesting the orchard was not one big harvest time, it was more of a daily routine. Apples, a largely fall fruit, would slowly ripen and drop one by one instead of like grapes, where they ripened in bunches. So they spent the afternoons picking up fallen apples, checking for damage or pests and storing them in their ever present baskets. They would even grab apples off the branch if they looked ripe enough or cut them down with what amounted to a bill hook, though it was really just a knife lashed to a pole. Dawson informed him that apples were a very hardy fruit, and could last up to 2 years without rotting away if stored in a cool dry place. Fruits like peaches and pears were less so, but still far more hardy then one might expect. They might last even longer if they were turned into preserves, jams or sauces.

They also spent time pulling the ever present vermin of weeds from around the trunks of the small trees. These particular trees had been cuttings and they managed to coax fruits from them between clever gardening techniques and mercy's bala mark. Djinn was always amazed at the clever things Mercy came up with to make plants flourish. She wasn't really the farming type, but she helped out occasionally. It seemed that only Dawson and Djinn himself were the only ones to take up an actual interest in the mechanics and execution of proper farming techniques. Which at this point, Djinn was convinced was largely keeping the plants free of weeds.

Djinn watched as a flock of crows winged in and settled among the wheatfields. He turned to Dawson and asked, "Hey Dawson, why don't we have any scarecrows? Don't those birds hurt the farm?" He said gesturing to the dark cloaked interlopers. Dawson, who was using a hoe to rip out some weeds stood up and glanced at the birds before returning to his work. "Nah, them birds are pretty good for the crops. Eat all sorts of bugs and such that would be causing problems for us. Watch them next time, you'll see em really chomping down on those green shiny beetles that like to burrow around the corn. Them knights in Syliras are convinced the birds are omens of bad luck and eat the crops." The farmer spat to the side and glared up at Djinn, "Don't you let superstition ever cloud yer judgement, ya hear? Them crows are a farmer's friend, and they're might clever too. Ya know they even hold funerals for their dead, that's how ya know they be gods fearing birds." The farmer went back to hacking at the ground with his hoe with a will, as if the man had something on his mind that he wanted to take out on the ground. Djinn regarded the man and his efforts. The man had unplumbed depths, and probably a problem with the Syliran knights. Made sense, Zeltiva was pretty far from the fortress city. That's a lot of effort to go just to farm the lands around the Meraki's manor.

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[ED] Tending the Fields

Postby Wa'Djinnabi on December 1st, 2019, 6:40 am

After they had cleared the orchard of fruit and leafy pests. Dawson went off to go mix some of the more mature compost and Djinn was left to finish his chores among the vegetables. Many of those crops were showing signs that they would be ready soon. They had long dropped their flowers and were budding green fruits. The pumpkins were particularly impressive, great gourds that would be made into delicious pies and breads among other things. Honestly, Djinn would have harvested them right then and their, they certainly looked ripe to his untrained eyes. However, Dawson counselled him to wait a few more ten days and they would cut the gourds out. Apparently they could do some more growing.

Catching all the weeds among the large varieties of vegetables they had on hand was tricky work. Many of the gourd type plants, like the pumpkin, had broad leaves that could hide any germinating weeds, though those big broad leaves made for a poor environment for many weeds. Still, there was something inside Djinn that made him check and pull any hidden unwanted plants. He enjoyed his work, despite the tedium. He liked the satisfaction of turning something out of nothing, so to speak. With the harvest nearing, they would soon have the results of all their hard work.

A deep rumble rolled across the beach and up to the fields. A flash of light blinded Djinn and another crack of thunder grumbled a moment later. Dawson came running yelling to start packing things up. He pointed towards the pavillion and the manor as a gust of cold wind swept through. Djinn immediately saw the problem. They would need to bring in the animals and pack up anything that could be caught in the wind, like say, the tarp or canvas the pavilion was made of. They probably didnt need to take the pavillion down exactly, but they would need to batten it down so the wind doesn't carry it off. He wasn't sure who thought of the idea, but what they ended up doing was staking down a flat tarp over the pavillion and the animals and pinning down the edges. In doing so, the wind would have nothing to grab on to and would simply blow over. Everything else was brought into the tower as quickly as possible.

Djinn was actually somewhat worried for the crops, and told Dawson so, but the more experienced farmer merely grinned and shook his head. "Don't ya worry lad, they'll get blown about, but we won't lose nothing. Actually, its a blessing to have the rain finally. We can rest a bit easier now that we aren't hand watering the crops." They were packed into tower now and someone had built a fire. He peered out the glassless windows and into the windswept manorgrounds. The clouds were roiling in the sky and darkening at a prodigious rate. Somewhere off in the distance the sun must have been slowly setting. They were in for a cold, wet night, though the tower was surprisingly cozy. It was strange that it was so comfortable despite its half finished state. Djinn looked around and saw a great deal of construction work left unattended. If anything, the tower seemed like it was, settling down for a nap in the cold, wet weather. He supposed he was just projecting onto the building since that was all he wanted to do himself. He supposed he didn't need to wash as thoroughly as he might on another day, having had quite the shower on his way in. Indeed, he claimed a sleeping roll and settled himself in by the fire. Other around the fire were talking quietly, subdued by the raging storm outside.

At least he had gotten his chores done, he mused wryly. The weeds would keep until he got to them next and the rain was, like Dawson said, good for the land. He wondered what winter would be like, would they get snow this time around? Or would they be in for another winterless season, a stagnant season. He hoped not, he would like things to get back to "normal". It was simply not natural for their to be no winter, even when that winter was in the desert, it was a nice and wet season. He worried that his homeland would get no winter rains.

Wa'Djinnabi slowly started to drift off to sleep, the patter of rain and the howling of the wind lulling him to sleep. He dreamed of the cold, he dreamed of the snow.



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[ED] Tending the Fields

Postby Wa'Djinnabi on December 1st, 2019, 7:00 am

When he woke up next, the first thing he sensed before he opened his eyes was the scent of a campfire. The smell of fire and smoke roused him. He opened his eyes and he could hear the cheerful sound of rain. The sky outside the tower had lightened to great grey swirls of clouds. Clearly the rage of the storm was spent and they were now only seeing the drunken echos of the rowdy night it had. Djinn sat up and looked around. Most were still asleep, though his internal clock told him it was nearly dawn.

The cooks were up as well and starting to use the fireplace to warm up some tea and a stew they had thoughtfully brought into the tower. He rubbed his hands together to get some warmth into the and huddled closer to the fire. He smiled at the ladies who were cooking and accepted a cup of warm tea. It was nice to have warm food so he could not complain. The question would be if he would have the day off, or if he would need to go out into the rain to do chores. Just as if he was being summoned, Dawson appeared and clapped him on the back, "I know that look. No, ya won't be needed today. The chaps taking care of the animals will be out, but none of us growers." He grinned and also accepted a mug of tea, thanking the cooks. "I suggest ya rest up and enjoy your day off, maybe go play some cards if we have any." Djinn wondered if they did as well, he had never played cards before. Might be fun.

He looked out one more time out the windows of the tower and nodded. Maybe the gods were looking out for them, out here on the frontier. They would need all the help they could get and the rain, was more of a help then he could possibly have asked for. Who knows, maybe Bala was friends with the rain god or goddess. With that, Djinn went over to join Dawson and some of his fellows in a game of cards.

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Wa'Djinnabi
Finding forgiveness among the weeds
 
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