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12:48 am July 13, 2014
| dystopia
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| posts 383 |
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The Planter of Trees
The air was dry, the rays from the sun overhead raining down on those below. It was hot, too hot, but the work must be done. The villa was tall, it's hewn stone walls absorbing the warmth, which it would radiate through the cold nights. The land surrounding the villa was mostly barren, the small patches of green the results of hard work planting seedlings, irrigating, and doing all that could be done to bring green to this place for the future. A sign on the door welcomed all to use Fiona's tools to help plant her seeds. She could be seen in the barren rolling hills doing just that.
— This is an open RP, anyone can join. You may post again after two others have posted. Gains for this RP negate XP and instead award words x.25 = gold.
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5:46 pm July 13, 2014
| griff | Member
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The Planters Of Trees |
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While Peter was in 1010 AD, all he could think of was why he was in this time. His ritual was for only a few minutes or hours, but he went hundreds of years in the future. He learned all he could about the changes to see if he can figure something out. One thing he relieved was most of the Zenan continue was gone. Fiona's Villa was a popular destination when there wasn't war, but it was gone. Thoughts of this was his reason for now being back gave his a purpose.
After a dangerous journey through the continent, Peter arrived at Fiona's Villa. It was nothing like he remembered, but that can be changed. It seemed Fiona left tools for people to help, she must have asked for people to come. The head caused beads of sweat to trickle down his neck. The hood of his tattered brown robes caused heat to stay there. It seemed necessary to take it off, but he was reluctant. He didn't want anyone to know who he was, but out here who would see. Peter took of the hood slowly, his rabbit ears bent half way.
The tools that stood out to Peter were two spikes used for making holes for seeds with handles on it. Peter grabbed both then moved to the seeds. He knew nothing about gardening and they all looked the same to him. Browns sacks lay beside the seeds for holding them. Peter grabbed a sack then grabbed a few seeds from everywhere, thinking diversity would help. Now came the actual work. In this heat, the work would be hard, but it may just pay off. If this could have in the survival of this area, it was well worth the sweet. Being a mage, Peter wasn't use to this manual labor. He got to his knees, but the work was slow. His attempted to punch the entire tool into the ground didn't work out. It took two or three hits before it was all the way in. Then came a seed and dirt to cover it. If it went like this, Peter wouldn't be able to do this on his own.
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— OOC: Words: 362 Total Words: 362 |
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8:33 pm July 13, 2014
| dystopia
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| posts 383 |
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The Planter of Trees
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It was hot, the arid steppe of the Zenan Continent was similar to his own time. Jonas has found himself heading south, surprised by the village of Dorino which had not existed in his time. He had wandered from there to a villa sitting atop a natural rocky hill, the rolling hills around it dry except for small patches of lush green. Thirsty he had hoped to find a place to rest, his original idea to head all the way to Porre. The sun's heat was torture on his back as he entered the villa, stepping into the cool shade, surprised to find someone he knew there. ” Peter, what is this place? ” Jonas said as he reached the sign asking for help, sitting neatly next to an organized butch of tools, seeds, and other items used in the irrigation and planting of trees. ” I had read stories about Dorino, but this place I was surprised to find. ” He continued as he followed Peter scooping up a shovel and a large bag of seeds. Exiting the cool shade of the villa Jonas found himself under the suns rays again, in the distance he could make out a figure toiling in the field. Peter walked towards her, and Jonas followed. Picking a spot the general labor began, Jonas feeding off of Peter's drive to help save these places for the future. |
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— OOC Talk: 234 words ~ 234 total |
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6:45 pm August 3, 2014
| dystopia
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| posts 383 |
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This was clearly not an appealing event. 91g to Peter, 59 to Jonas.
Event Closed.
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