Objective: Time to Farm
Clover town, the land in which most of the retired mages can be found here. They say it’s a peaceful place and one may find a life they’d never had that is for people such as Dubhlainn. How lucky it must be for its citizens to live and prosper here. Dubhlainn arrives in a small field just outside the town proper which seemed to be reserved for growing crops and such. The soil was loamy and parts of the fields were covered in weeds, a few rats can be seen running among these weeds and stared at the stoic man as if it were some predator who met his prey. Bugs were crawling eating whatever vegetation had grown here and by another one of his footsteps he managed to squish a few of them. He raised an eyebrow on his crushed victim, surprised of how big these insects can be. Peeking from the window of the farmhouse was the client who was expecting him to come here. As the old man opened the door, a few rats came out, scattering among the fields. Surprised, he fell down on his back and the cracking sound tells that he might have broken a bit of his back. With a shout, Dubhlainn walked faster in order to aid him, stepping and crushing a few insects on the way.
Better pray the client isn’t dead just because of that.
Dubhlainn took the liberty of aiding the old man up and fix his back for him. The old man was grateful as he scratched the back of his head. Before work began he asked Dubhlainn of the guild he belonged to since the request is posted in a neutral board, and all that he did was shrugged telling the old man that he doesn’t belong in any. He would be nervous if he found out he was from a dark guild, then his actions weren’t that of a dark mage either. Afterwards he was shown to the tool shed and was introduced to a variety of cutting tools and a few sacks in order to harvest the weeds. The tool he selected was a silver sickle; he took a few empty sacks and proceeds to the fields.
Clover town, the land in which most of the retired mages can be found here. They say it’s a peaceful place and one may find a life they’d never had that is for people such as Dubhlainn. How lucky it must be for its citizens to live and prosper here. Dubhlainn arrives in a small field just outside the town proper which seemed to be reserved for growing crops and such. The soil was loamy and parts of the fields were covered in weeds, a few rats can be seen running among these weeds and stared at the stoic man as if it were some predator who met his prey. Bugs were crawling eating whatever vegetation had grown here and by another one of his footsteps he managed to squish a few of them. He raised an eyebrow on his crushed victim, surprised of how big these insects can be. Peeking from the window of the farmhouse was the client who was expecting him to come here. As the old man opened the door, a few rats came out, scattering among the fields. Surprised, he fell down on his back and the cracking sound tells that he might have broken a bit of his back. With a shout, Dubhlainn walked faster in order to aid him, stepping and crushing a few insects on the way.
Better pray the client isn’t dead just because of that.
Dubhlainn took the liberty of aiding the old man up and fix his back for him. The old man was grateful as he scratched the back of his head. Before work began he asked Dubhlainn of the guild he belonged to since the request is posted in a neutral board, and all that he did was shrugged telling the old man that he doesn’t belong in any. He would be nervous if he found out he was from a dark guild, then his actions weren’t that of a dark mage either. Afterwards he was shown to the tool shed and was introduced to a variety of cutting tools and a few sacks in order to harvest the weeds. The tool he selected was a silver sickle; he took a few empty sacks and proceeds to the fields.
Last edited by Dubhlainn on 23rd July 2015, 5:31 am; edited 1 time in total