1 Cylus 719
Wealth Skill: Fieldcraft
Dan backed the cart in between a pair of willow trees, unharnessed the ponies, and gave them a quick once over with a brush. Cloud dragged the edge of her hoof across the snow burying what grass there was and turned mournful eyes on him. Dan smiled wryly and signed a teasing, "Greedy guts!". For now he had to focus on setting up a camp sturdy enough and sheltered enough to carry them all through thirty grim Cylus trials. The first task on his list was a wind break and an outer layer of wall (the tent itself being the inner), but he wouldn't, at least, have to go very far to find the materials for it. He started by making a snowball with his mittened hands, then set the ball of snow down on the ground and pushed it along. The snow that it rolled through clung to the ball and increased its size, providing him with several advantages. First, it cleared most of the snow off the ground where he wanted to place his tent and bared the grass for the patient ponies. Second, it kept the snow relatively clean and less likely to suddenly thaw and flood his campsite, as well as giving him a source of accessible water that he wouldn't have to search for. All he needed to do was to scrape some off the now boulder of snow. Finally, as he rolled it into a resting spot and began another, a row of snow boulders made a wind proof, if low, wall that would leave .little or no trace and damage behind when he moved on in Ashan. As he worked, the ponies trailed in behind him to crop the grass that he had bared. It didn't have a vast amount of nourishment at this time of the arc, but then again, Cloud and Smoke were small enough and hardy enough to survive on poor forage, while still being strong enough to pull the cart, or carry him (or a heavy pack) on their backs. He also kept an eye on what he was uncovering, in case any food plants showed up. His watchfulness was rewarded with the sight of a leafless burdock stem, which promised a chance at a sturdy, starch-filled, tuber beneath it.
Once he had the walls of snow completed he moved on to the next task. He climbed up onto the cart to give himself extra height, then reached for the curtain of thin branches on either side of him. Drawing them towards him, he began to weave the branches from opposite trees together, using the thinnest of the willow branches to tie the rest of them in place. His aim was to make a rough roof to shield his tent from the worst weight of the falling snow. The willow branches were still alive and would grow and flourish, he hoped, when the weather warmed again. Willow liked pruning and being roughed up, usually. He worked as fast as he could in the dim Cylus twilight, but he had to work barehanded - his mittens were too clumsy to tie or weave in - and twice he had to stop and tuck his cold-stiffened fingers into his armpits until they warmed up again.
When he finally got all the branches he could reach woven into each other, he climbed down and pulled his mittens back down. At least most of the tent could be set up with them on. He dragged the heavy cart out of the way, fetched the bundled tent, and began the familiar task of fitting the poles together and pitching the tent itself.
Once the tent was up, he began on the inside. He had a tiny covered brazier containing a live coal saved from the fire at his previous camp, and now he set it where it wouldn't get knocked over or set anything else on fire. The brazier used less fuel than an open fire did, which was worth while when you had to gather or make every bit of it. He raised the lid, added a little fuel, and blew it back into life so that it could begin to take the chill off the air inside the tent. In warmer weather, he would unrolled his bedroll onto the floor next, but in the cold he needed every survival boost he could get. Sleeping directly on the freezing ground was a good way to drain warmth and energy out of you so fast that there was a chance that you would go to sleep some cold night and never wake up again. He didn't intend to go out that way. Instead, he pulled out a mess of poles and tangled rope, and pine boughs and crouched to work on them.
He pulled his mittens off and tucked them through his rough rope belt to try and keep some warmth in them. Next he picked away at the knots in the rope until they came undone. Then he took the smallest poles, barely longer than the tent pegs, and hammered them part way into the ground to form the corners of a rectangle slightly longer and wider than his own body. Next, he took one of the longest poles, and a length of rope and carefully made the double loops of a clove hitch to secure the rope to the first corner post. The long pole, a handful of inches longer than the rectangle itself, he tucked up against the corner post, just above the knot fastening the rope to it. He looped the rope over the long pole, then round the corner post above the pole, down over the other side of the long pole, and then round the corner post below the pole. That took the rope back to where it had started, and he repeated the square, lashing the long pole tightly to the corner post. Finally he fastened it off, picked up another length of rope and shuffled down to the other end of the rectangle to repeat the process. He lashed a second long pole into place on the other side of the rectangle and two shorter poles across the ends to complete a shallow box.
The box meant that the boughs he used as insulation from the ground wouldn't spill apart or slide out from under him, or get trampled on by the ponies. He examined it, nodded to himself with satisfaction, and straightened, wincing as his legs protested crouching for so long. He gathered an armful of the pine boughs and dumped them inside the box, making sure that they were evenly spread across the inside of it, then went back and added another armful, and another, until the top of the pile was well clear of the ground. Then, finally, he unrolled his bedroll and spread it on top of the pine to complete his own bed. The remainder of the boughs he spread across the floor of the ponies' half of the tent, so that they too would have some insulation from the cold if they decided to lie down.
He leaned into the cart and caught up the cooking pot. Food this trial was going to be scant, since he had spent most of it moving camp rather than gathering, but he could at least melt snow for water for both him and the ponies. Outside, the windbreak was working. Cloud and Smoke stood contentedly in its lee, having eaten most of the bared grass. He ducked outside the wall, filled the pot with clean snow, and took it in to begin melting. He came out again and began to dig hopefully around the burdock stem. The ground was hard, half-frozen, and unwilling to give up its prize. He went on digging patiently, loosening the soil bit by bit until finally the swollen tuber was bare to his view. He prised it out, as long as his hand and as thick as three fingers together, and pushed the dirt back into the hole it left.
He could peel it, and make a bland stew of it, or roast it in the ashes. Roasting was better done in an open fire though, the brazier was too small to build up a decent amount of ash for cooking in. It did fine for hanging a pot over it, though. And if he peeled it, the ponies would eat the peel happily enough, they had done it before. It was one more feed supplement that he didn't have to scavenge for. He smiled into the dim Cylus twilight, and went back inside to sit by the tiny fire, dig out his knife, and peel it. He left the tent flap loose for the ponies to come in when they were ready. Their presence in the tent would only add to the warmth there, but for now he had shelter, warmth, water, and food. It was enough.
Wealth Skill: Fieldcraft
Dan backed the cart in between a pair of willow trees, unharnessed the ponies, and gave them a quick once over with a brush. Cloud dragged the edge of her hoof across the snow burying what grass there was and turned mournful eyes on him. Dan smiled wryly and signed a teasing, "Greedy guts!". For now he had to focus on setting up a camp sturdy enough and sheltered enough to carry them all through thirty grim Cylus trials. The first task on his list was a wind break and an outer layer of wall (the tent itself being the inner), but he wouldn't, at least, have to go very far to find the materials for it. He started by making a snowball with his mittened hands, then set the ball of snow down on the ground and pushed it along. The snow that it rolled through clung to the ball and increased its size, providing him with several advantages. First, it cleared most of the snow off the ground where he wanted to place his tent and bared the grass for the patient ponies. Second, it kept the snow relatively clean and less likely to suddenly thaw and flood his campsite, as well as giving him a source of accessible water that he wouldn't have to search for. All he needed to do was to scrape some off the now boulder of snow. Finally, as he rolled it into a resting spot and began another, a row of snow boulders made a wind proof, if low, wall that would leave .little or no trace and damage behind when he moved on in Ashan. As he worked, the ponies trailed in behind him to crop the grass that he had bared. It didn't have a vast amount of nourishment at this time of the arc, but then again, Cloud and Smoke were small enough and hardy enough to survive on poor forage, while still being strong enough to pull the cart, or carry him (or a heavy pack) on their backs. He also kept an eye on what he was uncovering, in case any food plants showed up. His watchfulness was rewarded with the sight of a leafless burdock stem, which promised a chance at a sturdy, starch-filled, tuber beneath it.
Once he had the walls of snow completed he moved on to the next task. He climbed up onto the cart to give himself extra height, then reached for the curtain of thin branches on either side of him. Drawing them towards him, he began to weave the branches from opposite trees together, using the thinnest of the willow branches to tie the rest of them in place. His aim was to make a rough roof to shield his tent from the worst weight of the falling snow. The willow branches were still alive and would grow and flourish, he hoped, when the weather warmed again. Willow liked pruning and being roughed up, usually. He worked as fast as he could in the dim Cylus twilight, but he had to work barehanded - his mittens were too clumsy to tie or weave in - and twice he had to stop and tuck his cold-stiffened fingers into his armpits until they warmed up again.
When he finally got all the branches he could reach woven into each other, he climbed down and pulled his mittens back down. At least most of the tent could be set up with them on. He dragged the heavy cart out of the way, fetched the bundled tent, and began the familiar task of fitting the poles together and pitching the tent itself.
Once the tent was up, he began on the inside. He had a tiny covered brazier containing a live coal saved from the fire at his previous camp, and now he set it where it wouldn't get knocked over or set anything else on fire. The brazier used less fuel than an open fire did, which was worth while when you had to gather or make every bit of it. He raised the lid, added a little fuel, and blew it back into life so that it could begin to take the chill off the air inside the tent. In warmer weather, he would unrolled his bedroll onto the floor next, but in the cold he needed every survival boost he could get. Sleeping directly on the freezing ground was a good way to drain warmth and energy out of you so fast that there was a chance that you would go to sleep some cold night and never wake up again. He didn't intend to go out that way. Instead, he pulled out a mess of poles and tangled rope, and pine boughs and crouched to work on them.
He pulled his mittens off and tucked them through his rough rope belt to try and keep some warmth in them. Next he picked away at the knots in the rope until they came undone. Then he took the smallest poles, barely longer than the tent pegs, and hammered them part way into the ground to form the corners of a rectangle slightly longer and wider than his own body. Next, he took one of the longest poles, and a length of rope and carefully made the double loops of a clove hitch to secure the rope to the first corner post. The long pole, a handful of inches longer than the rectangle itself, he tucked up against the corner post, just above the knot fastening the rope to it. He looped the rope over the long pole, then round the corner post above the pole, down over the other side of the long pole, and then round the corner post below the pole. That took the rope back to where it had started, and he repeated the square, lashing the long pole tightly to the corner post. Finally he fastened it off, picked up another length of rope and shuffled down to the other end of the rectangle to repeat the process. He lashed a second long pole into place on the other side of the rectangle and two shorter poles across the ends to complete a shallow box.
The box meant that the boughs he used as insulation from the ground wouldn't spill apart or slide out from under him, or get trampled on by the ponies. He examined it, nodded to himself with satisfaction, and straightened, wincing as his legs protested crouching for so long. He gathered an armful of the pine boughs and dumped them inside the box, making sure that they were evenly spread across the inside of it, then went back and added another armful, and another, until the top of the pile was well clear of the ground. Then, finally, he unrolled his bedroll and spread it on top of the pine to complete his own bed. The remainder of the boughs he spread across the floor of the ponies' half of the tent, so that they too would have some insulation from the cold if they decided to lie down.
He leaned into the cart and caught up the cooking pot. Food this trial was going to be scant, since he had spent most of it moving camp rather than gathering, but he could at least melt snow for water for both him and the ponies. Outside, the windbreak was working. Cloud and Smoke stood contentedly in its lee, having eaten most of the bared grass. He ducked outside the wall, filled the pot with clean snow, and took it in to begin melting. He came out again and began to dig hopefully around the burdock stem. The ground was hard, half-frozen, and unwilling to give up its prize. He went on digging patiently, loosening the soil bit by bit until finally the swollen tuber was bare to his view. He prised it out, as long as his hand and as thick as three fingers together, and pushed the dirt back into the hole it left.
He could peel it, and make a bland stew of it, or roast it in the ashes. Roasting was better done in an open fire though, the brazier was too small to build up a decent amount of ash for cooking in. It did fine for hanging a pot over it, though. And if he peeled it, the ponies would eat the peel happily enough, they had done it before. It was one more feed supplement that he didn't have to scavenge for. He smiled into the dim Cylus twilight, and went back inside to sit by the tiny fire, dig out his knife, and peel it. He left the tent flap loose for the ponies to come in when they were ready. Their presence in the tent would only add to the warmth there, but for now he had shelter, warmth, water, and food. It was enough.
