20 Ashan 722
Wealth Skill: Fieldcraft
Dan chose a bright, dry day to go over his belongings. It meant that he could spread everything out on the grass and inspect it piece by piece. It was something he liked to do early in the arc, but couldn't do in Cylus for the obvious reasons of it being too dark to do detailed inspections, and too cold to be outside for long. It was still chilly now, but he could bear it.
He began by cutting a square of turf, using the spade to slice down through the grass roots and then sliding it underneath and lifting the square out of the way. He carefully transferred the coals of his fire to the new hearth, fed it a bit more fuel to keep it going, and then set the brazier to one side to cool so that he could inspect that too.
He had only set up this particular camp late the night before, so he had no traps out as yet. They were among the first things he checked, along with his cooking pot. He ran his fingers cautiously over them to check for rough spots or patches of rust that might develop into flaws or cracks, and then set each one aside as he finished, making notes on his wax writing tablet. He had set a bowl of beans to soak the night before, now he emptied the soaked beans into his inspected cooking pot, added more water, and set them on the edge of the fire to cook slowly for breaks while he worked.
Once he had checked his fish trap, his other fishing gear, and his rabbit snares, he took a breather and stretched his legs by making a loop through the area and setting the traps up in good spots. He came back with some early wild leeks, a couple of cattail roots, and a double handful of watercress that he had picked up along the way. None of them would take as long to cook as the beans would, so he set them aside for now.
Next up was his clothes and the bags that he kept them in. His clothes, of course, were easy, but he ran an eye over the anyway to make sure there weren't any tears or worn spots that he had missed noticing. The bags, he was less familiar with and went over more carefully, finding a fraying seam on one of them that would have to be mended soon if he wanted to keep his clothes dry. He made a note, but didn't stop to do the mending immediately. Better to finish the task he was on than to stop and start half a dozen different ones and not finish any of them.
While he was doing things made from cloth, he also went over his bedding for moth holes and frayed hems and the general wear and tear that was hidden by the layers above and below each blanket when it was in use. He did, as it turned out, need to cut new pine boughs for his mattress, which meant his bed would smell wonderfully of pine for the next season or so. Later, of course.
He paused for a moment to stretch and tip his head up to the sunlight, closing his eyes. He didn't quite bask in it as a cat might, but he definitely enjoyed it. It wasn't that there was anything wrong with Eureka - he was almost certain they didn't mean to do things that set off his hypervigilence - but the fact was that some of the things they considered normal did set it off and it was draining. He felt far happier out here, one might almost say safer. Out here, even with the threats and dangers that the wild held, there was no one to hold him to 'normal' expectancies or attitudes. If he wanted to flinch at certain things, he could flinch, and there was no one here to chide him for it, or to needle him over wanting the 'wrong' things.
Still, basking in the presence of the newly returned sun wasn't going to get the work done, so he folded his clothes and his bedding away, and started on his food stores. He had more of them left this arc than he usually did - that, he supposed was one advantage of staying in a settlement for Cylus, that you ended up eating their stores rather than your own. He snuck a bit of dried apple into his mouth to keep him going, but managed to resist scoffing the rest of the sack. He knew roughly how much he needed to keep him going for a day, but he had to tally the days up in a corner of the wax tablet rather than being able to hold the numbers in his head as some people could. Dried fish and dried meat and dried fruit. Salt. Dried mint - he made a mental note to use a pinch of it to make a mug of mint tea to have with his meal of beans. More beans were in his stores, of course, and a small bag of precious flour. Then there were carrots, wrinkled from storage but still sound enough to eat, and oats that were as much to supplement the ponies' food as to add to his own.
He swiped one of the larger carrots to join the leeks he had picked earlier in boosting and flavouring the beans. He couldn't add salt to them, that would just prevent the beans from softening as they cooked and leave him with a hard gritty mess in his bowl. Not pleasant no matter what, and a waste of precious shop bought salt to boot. Two of the sacks had worn to the woof where the cord had wrapped them to tie them shut, and he grimaced. Replacement sacks weren't something he could make from what he had, they would have to be bought. Still, better to know now than when they tore and spilled his food in the dirt. He transferred the contents to more secure containers and folded the worn sacks to the side. He would give them a better look later and see if or how much he could salvage from them and whether he could use fabric from one to patch the other.
He lined up all his tool kits, inspected the tools inside from the tiny needles for sewing to the much bigger chisels and smoothing stones for carving wood and everything in between, then made sure that they were securely wrapped and that none of their holders was wearing too badly.
Next up he went over all the leatherwork - the ponies' harness and saddles, his own armour and shoes, testing all the straps and buckles, inspecting every inch for the cracks that always started when leather was flexed repeatedly (for example, the way that shoes and boots were flexed under and across the ball of the foot from all the walking). He probed the saddle trees to make sure that they were sound and wouldn't break in the middle of a ride, and checked that the bits and other metalwork wasn't going rusty, before moving onto his few pieces of furniture.
That took him up to the point where he could start the rest of the food cooking without it being overdone by the time the beans were done. The cattails were easy, he just snapped the roots into lengths a little longer than his handspan and tossed them into the edge of the fire to roast. He chopped the leeks and the carrot, and tossed them into the pot with the beans, then put a second pot on the fire to heat water for the mint tea. He'd eat the watercress raw, it was best that way.
While the last of his food cooked he checked the tent for leaks and worn spots, and fraying guy ropes, and the cart for cracks in the wood and sticky spots in the motion. His final task was checking his weapons: his bows (both of them) and their bowstrings; his quiver of arrows for broken fletchings, warped arrow shafts and damaged tips, and his spear.
Finally done, he packed everything back into shelter before the dew got to it, and sat by the fire with the meal he had made, cracking open the cooked cattail roots and sucking the edible starch off the inedible fibres inside. The fibres hung from his mouth like whiskers until he fished them out and tossed them into the fire. He alternated spoonfuls of the bean and vegetable soup with bites of watercress and sips of mint tea, and tipped his head back to watch the sunset, tired with a long trial's work, but satisfied.
"Signed words" Spoken words
Wealth Skill: Fieldcraft
Dan chose a bright, dry day to go over his belongings. It meant that he could spread everything out on the grass and inspect it piece by piece. It was something he liked to do early in the arc, but couldn't do in Cylus for the obvious reasons of it being too dark to do detailed inspections, and too cold to be outside for long. It was still chilly now, but he could bear it.
He began by cutting a square of turf, using the spade to slice down through the grass roots and then sliding it underneath and lifting the square out of the way. He carefully transferred the coals of his fire to the new hearth, fed it a bit more fuel to keep it going, and then set the brazier to one side to cool so that he could inspect that too.
He had only set up this particular camp late the night before, so he had no traps out as yet. They were among the first things he checked, along with his cooking pot. He ran his fingers cautiously over them to check for rough spots or patches of rust that might develop into flaws or cracks, and then set each one aside as he finished, making notes on his wax writing tablet. He had set a bowl of beans to soak the night before, now he emptied the soaked beans into his inspected cooking pot, added more water, and set them on the edge of the fire to cook slowly for breaks while he worked.
Once he had checked his fish trap, his other fishing gear, and his rabbit snares, he took a breather and stretched his legs by making a loop through the area and setting the traps up in good spots. He came back with some early wild leeks, a couple of cattail roots, and a double handful of watercress that he had picked up along the way. None of them would take as long to cook as the beans would, so he set them aside for now.
Next up was his clothes and the bags that he kept them in. His clothes, of course, were easy, but he ran an eye over the anyway to make sure there weren't any tears or worn spots that he had missed noticing. The bags, he was less familiar with and went over more carefully, finding a fraying seam on one of them that would have to be mended soon if he wanted to keep his clothes dry. He made a note, but didn't stop to do the mending immediately. Better to finish the task he was on than to stop and start half a dozen different ones and not finish any of them.
While he was doing things made from cloth, he also went over his bedding for moth holes and frayed hems and the general wear and tear that was hidden by the layers above and below each blanket when it was in use. He did, as it turned out, need to cut new pine boughs for his mattress, which meant his bed would smell wonderfully of pine for the next season or so. Later, of course.
He paused for a moment to stretch and tip his head up to the sunlight, closing his eyes. He didn't quite bask in it as a cat might, but he definitely enjoyed it. It wasn't that there was anything wrong with Eureka - he was almost certain they didn't mean to do things that set off his hypervigilence - but the fact was that some of the things they considered normal did set it off and it was draining. He felt far happier out here, one might almost say safer. Out here, even with the threats and dangers that the wild held, there was no one to hold him to 'normal' expectancies or attitudes. If he wanted to flinch at certain things, he could flinch, and there was no one here to chide him for it, or to needle him over wanting the 'wrong' things.
Still, basking in the presence of the newly returned sun wasn't going to get the work done, so he folded his clothes and his bedding away, and started on his food stores. He had more of them left this arc than he usually did - that, he supposed was one advantage of staying in a settlement for Cylus, that you ended up eating their stores rather than your own. He snuck a bit of dried apple into his mouth to keep him going, but managed to resist scoffing the rest of the sack. He knew roughly how much he needed to keep him going for a day, but he had to tally the days up in a corner of the wax tablet rather than being able to hold the numbers in his head as some people could. Dried fish and dried meat and dried fruit. Salt. Dried mint - he made a mental note to use a pinch of it to make a mug of mint tea to have with his meal of beans. More beans were in his stores, of course, and a small bag of precious flour. Then there were carrots, wrinkled from storage but still sound enough to eat, and oats that were as much to supplement the ponies' food as to add to his own.
He swiped one of the larger carrots to join the leeks he had picked earlier in boosting and flavouring the beans. He couldn't add salt to them, that would just prevent the beans from softening as they cooked and leave him with a hard gritty mess in his bowl. Not pleasant no matter what, and a waste of precious shop bought salt to boot. Two of the sacks had worn to the woof where the cord had wrapped them to tie them shut, and he grimaced. Replacement sacks weren't something he could make from what he had, they would have to be bought. Still, better to know now than when they tore and spilled his food in the dirt. He transferred the contents to more secure containers and folded the worn sacks to the side. He would give them a better look later and see if or how much he could salvage from them and whether he could use fabric from one to patch the other.
He lined up all his tool kits, inspected the tools inside from the tiny needles for sewing to the much bigger chisels and smoothing stones for carving wood and everything in between, then made sure that they were securely wrapped and that none of their holders was wearing too badly.
Next up he went over all the leatherwork - the ponies' harness and saddles, his own armour and shoes, testing all the straps and buckles, inspecting every inch for the cracks that always started when leather was flexed repeatedly (for example, the way that shoes and boots were flexed under and across the ball of the foot from all the walking). He probed the saddle trees to make sure that they were sound and wouldn't break in the middle of a ride, and checked that the bits and other metalwork wasn't going rusty, before moving onto his few pieces of furniture.
That took him up to the point where he could start the rest of the food cooking without it being overdone by the time the beans were done. The cattails were easy, he just snapped the roots into lengths a little longer than his handspan and tossed them into the edge of the fire to roast. He chopped the leeks and the carrot, and tossed them into the pot with the beans, then put a second pot on the fire to heat water for the mint tea. He'd eat the watercress raw, it was best that way.
While the last of his food cooked he checked the tent for leaks and worn spots, and fraying guy ropes, and the cart for cracks in the wood and sticky spots in the motion. His final task was checking his weapons: his bows (both of them) and their bowstrings; his quiver of arrows for broken fletchings, warped arrow shafts and damaged tips, and his spear.
Finally done, he packed everything back into shelter before the dew got to it, and sat by the fire with the meal he had made, cracking open the cooked cattail roots and sucking the edible starch off the inedible fibres inside. The fibres hung from his mouth like whiskers until he fished them out and tossed them into the fire. He alternated spoonfuls of the bean and vegetable soup with bites of watercress and sips of mint tea, and tipped his head back to watch the sunset, tired with a long trial's work, but satisfied.
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