by Fwap Fwap Fwap. Using a hoe to take out the bad weed in that big field was super easy. In his time as a kid he used to help tend to the crops as a way to get a little disposable income to spend for sugar or the newest wooden swords.
He had been asked to help with farming, but he was the last person to ask in all honestly. His poison powers had the bad habit of leaving a nasty mark around stuff if he stayed around for too long. It was the price to pay to harness the Weave. Sure, it wasn't as bad as the dragon he learned his stuff from but still noticeable. While the ground didn't turn into a poisonous swamp full of muck, plants withered and water got dirty he still had told the farmer contracting him that he probably didn't want his precious plants to get affected by his magic.
As such, he was delegated to a task he was admittedly a rather appropriate solution. Weeding out the bad grass to make way for actual crops. He could use his own magic and conjure up a poison cloud to completely burn away those nasty weeds. That would have been way faster, but he wasn't sure about the next step.
His body had taken worse beatings. So he could just use common tools for the time being. Right, back to working, he had taken a nice pause. De-weeding was just a matter of rhythym. One, two three. Swipe, Swipe, Swipe.
There, that field was as clean as it could possibly be. Tyson walked over to the shed and stowed the hoe away. Now came the slightly more annoying work of grabbing the weed he had previously cut and make two nice piles that would get burned later. Once again starting from the far left corner of the field, Tyson began picking up the cut grass, occasionally wiping sweat off his forehead.
It took him considerably more time to gather the weed in packs. He had to do a double take about midway to check if he had missed any spot. Luckily, he had cleaned up nicely. Not a single bad weed to stain that otherwise pristine field. Time to get the tractor and...
Oh god. The tractor. Right. He forgot about that. Damned be his motion sickness. He bet he wouldn't be able to even go slow for more than twenty meters without bending over puking. Well, it would mean that he needed to do things by hand once again. Returning to the shed, he rustled around to find a plow. It was rather dusty and rusted, obviously. There was hardly any reason to use that when the tractor was faster and more efficient.
Well...that was great. Rusty tools meant more energy needed to do the same action. Tyson huffed, looking up at the sky. The sun was still a fairly long way from setting. That was going to be a long day...
WC: 506
He had been asked to help with farming, but he was the last person to ask in all honestly. His poison powers had the bad habit of leaving a nasty mark around stuff if he stayed around for too long. It was the price to pay to harness the Weave. Sure, it wasn't as bad as the dragon he learned his stuff from but still noticeable. While the ground didn't turn into a poisonous swamp full of muck, plants withered and water got dirty he still had told the farmer contracting him that he probably didn't want his precious plants to get affected by his magic.
As such, he was delegated to a task he was admittedly a rather appropriate solution. Weeding out the bad grass to make way for actual crops. He could use his own magic and conjure up a poison cloud to completely burn away those nasty weeds. That would have been way faster, but he wasn't sure about the next step.
His body had taken worse beatings. So he could just use common tools for the time being. Right, back to working, he had taken a nice pause. De-weeding was just a matter of rhythym. One, two three. Swipe, Swipe, Swipe.
There, that field was as clean as it could possibly be. Tyson walked over to the shed and stowed the hoe away. Now came the slightly more annoying work of grabbing the weed he had previously cut and make two nice piles that would get burned later. Once again starting from the far left corner of the field, Tyson began picking up the cut grass, occasionally wiping sweat off his forehead.
It took him considerably more time to gather the weed in packs. He had to do a double take about midway to check if he had missed any spot. Luckily, he had cleaned up nicely. Not a single bad weed to stain that otherwise pristine field. Time to get the tractor and...
Oh god. The tractor. Right. He forgot about that. Damned be his motion sickness. He bet he wouldn't be able to even go slow for more than twenty meters without bending over puking. Well, it would mean that he needed to do things by hand once again. Returning to the shed, he rustled around to find a plow. It was rather dusty and rusted, obviously. There was hardly any reason to use that when the tractor was faster and more efficient.
Well...that was great. Rusty tools meant more energy needed to do the same action. Tyson huffed, looking up at the sky. The sun was still a fairly long way from setting. That was going to be a long day...
WC: 506
