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Helping the Harvest

Solo or RP Format
Counts as 5 RP growth Points
Solo word minimum is 750, RP post minimum is 7

A crisp breeze has rolled into Tendaji, bringing the temperatures down both on land and sea. Along with the shortening of days, this is a sign that it is time to harvest food and resources to prepare for the winter months.

Typically, harvesting is a community effort. Be it the family all coming together to ensure the produce is picked before it sours, or the community coming in to help till the fields, it is quite the event. Most don't mind stepping up, considering the hard work always pays off with a festival, but some do find it quite a burden.

Either way, if the community wishes to come together and survive another long winter, it's time for you to step in and play your part.

[ The fall harvest is back again. This time, you have been asked to play your part. Be it helping gather materials like wood and furs or plucking the fruits and vegetables from the fields, your task has been laid out for you.

When replying to this event, we are looking for your character to be actively helping with the fall harvest. Maybe it's a team effort with a friend, or a thoughtful reflection of what fall means. Take the time to explore how your character feels doing such work during this time of year. ]

Viltre wove his way through the tall grasses surrounding their plot. The pink of his cloak, woven from the same plants, made his approach seem the result of a passing eddy in the breeze. The wide hat of the same make only helped this impression. And while, yes, the professional in him enjoyed the inherent stealth of his approach, that was a secondary thing. Mostly he had the pink reeds on because it was bright and hot out in direct sunlight. Sorin's brother, tall and whipcord lean, was used to the shelter of the canopy, a mostly urban creature. Or at least less comfortable out in the open, and if one could spot him, it showed.

As was established pattern, the Kavensei secondboy made his way out of his family roost but seldom, even to visit his dear little brother. Today, naturally, had some important matter to discuss. I really should come by more often. Never know when I'll slip up, now more than usual. He found the broader leafling almost as soon as he reached the edge of the tall grass. Unlike his elder, the younger didn't go in for hiding, and the berth the other workers afforded him was another big clue. A deep, steadying breath, and the scribe stepped out into the open field.

"Hoy there! How's this clean living thing treating you, brother mine?" The cloak he hung on the high fence, though his hat remained to shade him. It looked as though he'd need to trade hads for his brother's ear, at this particular time. "Need another pair of hands?"

The grin broadened at mention of their sire. Vulir and responsibility were often leagues apart. The man was every inch the adventurous type, with all the good and bad that brought. "Ha! Our father, send me away from the books at harvest? Last I saw, he's too busy dancing for that." His gloves, light and tough though they were, weren't suited for this. They slipped off and tucked into the red sash, the hands beneath taking up a curved sickle as their owner stepped in beside. The tarp was down, and there was a good stack of unshorn grain beside Sorin.

"Nah, I had some things to talk to ya about. But I'm thinkin' I'll need to stick around an' help if I wanna get a word in by now." Rather than start in immediately, Viltre unslung the waterskin hanging from his shoulder and passed it to his younger brother. The city boy hung back to watch his brother work for the moment. Better to get the idea of how a thing was done before you just dove in and tried. You could get away with that with paper. Food was a more serious business after all.
[Viltre 2.]

His limited agricultural knowledge strained, the taller Kavensei looked around to the other farmhands. They'd already cut most of the crop, and now it was down past flails. The blades had mostly been put up, saving the one Viltre had taken off the rack by mistake. The smile he wore took a sheepish hue, and he set the sickle down beside the tarp. "No, I'm afraid not. I'll need a bit of direction if I'm helping; pens are more my speed." As he did most people, the tall scribe watched his brother as he moved. The set of his shoulders, the lightness of his step despite a full day's work, the dimple at one cheek, all signs of a good mood. ...Hate the need to sour it.

Still, he thought, neatly catching the skin and setting it by the tool, not getting a better chance. "Got tales for ya. Things developed while you were away, and I wasn't sure you'd heard on return with Niiemh. Didn't go completely ploin-shaped, but it's not all good to hear. You want the bad or the good news first?" The grin had dimmed, though he still stood ready to work. There would not be an easy way to break this, as there hadn't for their sister. After a moment, he tipped back his wide hat and squirted some water into his mouth. This would take some talking...

[Viltre 3]

Viltre set a brief hangdog shame on his face, just exaggerated enough to register as a joke. It passed just as soon as they began clearing out of the way, heading back to the fences. The cloak hung where it was, for the moment, joined soon by the borrowed sickle. "Glad to hear. Think I found a way to work around the bird diet. There's some Geian dish, museli? Mostly grains; most any bird'd eat it." The slim redhead dropped a wince into place when Sorin chose the bad. Makes the narraive a little stickier. The tale had been loosely organized in his mind, awaiting a framework to hang from. Context swam to the fore, that his brother would know what had happened and the necessity of it.

A deep breath began the tale. As with any good pitch, he stuck mainly to fact. "You remember Terrwyn got married off. Found out her husband was abusive. ...Mother knew." Young Kavensei poured a little heat into his tongue, let it glint from teeth and eyes. "Sis told me she'd taken up with a forigner once Finley took up that charming hobby. Specifically because she'd got with child, and it might have been the fellow's. She's out of Tale now." And now came the bit that was a gamble. It was no coincidence he'd come to find Sorin here, away from the multilayered city. With the noise of harvest and the wind rustling the grasses, you had to be quite close to overhear a quiet chat. Also, they provided a convenient getaway if Sorin took physical exception to his brother's solution.

As honest as he was, Viltre's younger brother was no fool. He knew more than he'd ever been interested in letting on. Bite down and say it. "I helped her run. We've cut some shady deals over the years, and I've had to start threatening Mother with exposing them to stop her following." He spread his hands, waiting. "That's about the worst of it."

That broke his mouth from the grim set back to the familiar smile the secondboy so often wore. "Oh yes. Three, healthy boys all. If he doesn't know by now, he will within a week or two." Despite their father's shaky grasp on things he considered optional, like 'taxes', 'marital fidelity', or occasionally 'ownership', he had unwholesomely sharp hearing when it came to his children. Especially when the man was home. He crowed at his brood's successes and consoled their defeats in equal measure and enthusiasm. It went some way towards their fondness for him. Might well be part of the reason Mother's had so little success driving us against one another.

Rather than stoke the internal roil, Viltre lowered his voice, dimmed his grin. The goal here wasn't to manipulate his brother against his mother, nor to set him off like a cornered witu. "I won't say it was the right thing. Probably were better options that didn't occur to me. With Finley's presence, Mother's predjudices and Father's absence? It was the only idea I had that might work." A pause, flashing just a touch of thoughtful satisfaction at another thought. The scribe worked to maintain his reputation as a habitual prankster, and the subject had deserved far worse than what he'd got. "I'll admit I'm a bit proud of what I did to her husband, tho'. Turns out too much laxative makes you nauseous, especially in wine. He was stuck in a latrine for at least half a day."

There were, of course, details left out. Not necessarily because they were irrelevant, or even detrimental to his narrative, but because too much truth was often unbelievable. Even if Sorin wasn't ready to believe Merle would hurt Vulir's other children, even he could admit she was capable of looking the other way. "The good news is, it paid off, and our nephews are safe. So's our sister. Even met her beau briefly; man's apparently a beast tamer of some skill, and thoroughly smitten with her. From what word I've recieved, they're happy."

[Viltre 5]

The lighter face curled wry at that. Wasn't a bad impression of Vulir. "He would say that, wouldn't he?" The warm chuckle rolled out in the elder's low voice. The worst was out in the open, so he could afford his customary mirth. Even if it went a bit fierce when the 'poor man' was trotted out. "Normally I'd agree, but ******** that guy. I should've spiked his next meal with slow hot sauce and strong mints. Found out those stack." Most of his pranks came without malice, just a lighthearted rascality. And when it went too far, Viltre maintained a habit of making amends as bet he could. This one would stay an exception.

Long, slim fingers found the broader shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. The head under that broad hat shook. "Can't say to when yet, but it's not forever. They'll come back to visit, once things settle down here and the boys are grown a bit. It's apparently not a small clan she's married into, so we'll see 'em yet. An' in the meantime, we can still talk by pen or paint." The grin slimmed, and green eye glanced briefly back to the plains, the hissing grasses. "...That's another reason I'm here, actually. I've got to take to the road soon, and had to ask a favor. Could you look after the twins and Aelyn?" Niiemh and Noamh, though from different mothers, might as well have been twinned. Still, without Viltre and Terrwyn, they were the last of them that the matriarch might take issue with.

[Viltre 6]

Sorin's efforts towards neutrality formed a great part of why he'd been approached. Acyn was... well, too busy to be of much aid here, and could at best lock their mother in a financial dance. The eldest still thought the world of her, after all. She'd never see Sorin's interferance coming, might overlook it entirely. He was so honest it could make you sick sometimes. "Thank you." Viltre stepped forward and hugged his brother close.

A few moments, that was all. Someone was calling, and it wouldn't do to keep the younger Kavensei overlong. "I'll write when I can. Gonna be out on a favor to the new family, helpin' track down a lost niece. Probably pick up some profitable information on the way. If I find anything on new crops or techniques, I'll be sure to send it your way. Take care, Sorin." With that, the scribe passed him the waterskin and donned his pink reed cloak, soon vanishing back into the grass...