Maxwell Was grateful to have Vinchen supervising! He was deffinately the real backbone to this labor as Maxwell couldn't very well trust that his efforts would go un-hindered if some random elf was tearing up the landscape! Atleast this way Vinchen could be seen supervising the elfs efforts! A valuable member of the team! The work began in the slums, south of the clinic near the haybail pond. Maxwell started by driving the trowel into the soil again and again, breaking apart the hardened clods with patient persistence. Each strike sending a dull ache through his wrists but he hummed melodiously through it all. Rolling shoulders and loosening earth that hadn't been touched with such care in years! Maxwell lifted stones out of the ground and tossed them into a bucket neatly to be used later. Bits of broken glass gathered carefully and wrapped up for disposal later. The work began to change the dirt, it looked fresher, not alive but..Listening.. Clumps of the dried earth visible in the freshly darkened under soil. Maxwell paused often to kneel, singing his fingers into the loose ground testing it. His eyes close while he breathed, steadying himself as he imagine rain falling slowly seeping into this new soil, though he didn't allow his mana to flow with his thoughts.. Magic was begrudgingly not the answer.. The earth felt warm beneath his hands..And the vision of what could be later filled him with joy. Once the soil in this area was finally turned. Maxwell works compost and fertilizer into it by hand, massaging and sifting through the dirt, dragging the bag while bent over, handful after handful. "We're doing the WHOLE land man!" he exclaims brightly "Just start somewhere, think of the smiles we'll bring!" Maxwell "You dont have to do everything at once..Just start." He affirms as he straightens himself wiping sweat from his brown before surveying the patch he'd done.. It looked different now, not green but..Possible. Smiling brightly he began with the grass. Walking backwards and sprinkling the seeds in a wide graceful arc. Stuffing a hand into the bag and moving slowly as he did so moving with an almost dance like precision. Each handful falls evenly, never clumped never rushed! he crouches again to press the seeds gently into the soil, careful not to bury them too deep before he squat walks backwards doing the same for the ground he'd already covered. He thought of meadows, sweet warm barefoot summers. Of grass bending under the weight of the wind and always rising again.. He kissed his dirty hand and blessed the ground with a gentle pat. "Grow fast my babies.." he whispers with a smile. [planted grass on the land around the right of the haybail pond] Jasir Siri grabs his handcart and wheels it out into the forest. After about an hour or so Jasir comes back with with the cart full of charcoal, broken pieces of pottery, a few clay pots, and whatever pieces of animal dung he could find on his way from the forest to town He sets the cart down near the plot Maxwell was working on and gets to work. He spreads the charcoal, pottery pieces, and manure in an even layer over the freshly turned earth where the grass seeds were planted. He takes a bucket and splashes the area with water. Lastly he rakes the soil to mix it together and bury as much of the fertilizing material. deeper into the earth. Lastly he takes some of the clay pots and buries them across the space that is being worked on. Each pot filled with water from clean springs out on the edge of town. He places the a lid on each and washes his hands in the nearby pond. He removes some pieces of timber from his handcart and makes a small fence to protect the freshly planted grass. If anyone wanted to disturb the plot they couldn't do so casually. "Thiss should bee a good startt. Iff i didd thiss right the fertility shoulld expand naturally over time, but the more work wee doo the fasster itt will go" clay pot watering https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZAxe1olBIis&list=TLPQMDYwMTIwMjY6mODx0oJiLQ&index=9 Amazonian Soil conditioning https://youtu.be/xj2INVpN0gs?si=3BSLNIQAhgEjJ0im Maxwell Nodded quietly while he looked around, flowers would come next. Particularly around the walkways and such, around the building and in patches across the dirt for the viewing pleasure of travelers and those walking the roads. He selects hardy wildflowers first, those that thrive without being asked permission. Poppies. Clover. Small white blossoms whos name he hummed but never spoke aloud. Planting them in clusters and deliberately leaving space between patches so they can spread naturally over time. "Room to Grow " he sings out to himself. Maxwell would begin the trek to the well far to the east to gather a barrel of water to heft back to the sight, carefully watering the ground with the watering can taking care not to flood the fresh seeds but soaking the topsoil thoroughly while it darkens from the water. Carrying warmth and high hopes with it! he follows behind it sprinkling water from the can and re dipping it into the barrel of water while he hummed. While he did so, he let his thoughts turn to old forests to the roots gripping stone, to the flowers blooming where no one would ever expect them.. But at the same time, totally expect flowers to be..Despite the nature of the slums. Maxwell Hummed as he moved further north and south of the clinic, using his tools to till up the land, turning over the soil and sifting through it, he'd drag the bag of fertilizer with him, pausing every ten feet or so to go back and work the fertilizer into the ground by hand, massaging through the dirt before taking his tools and continuing on with the work. His back ached, his wrists were sore, his green tunic face and even his blonde locks were dirtied by this point! "Till till till the dirt until its fertile laaand. Merrily merrily merrily so flowers, grass...Aband?" he paused uncertain of his lyrics. Shrugging it off he'd continue forth, as a fated he could work five times the speed of the mundane, bent over and walking backwards as he tore up the dirt turning soil and mixing the earth! Back and forth in lines much like a field until the ground was blackened with fresh upturned soil. He huffed slightly before he moved to begin distributing more grass seed back and forth while he squat walked backwards, gently planting the grass seeds just bellow the surface. He planted little kisses on his dirty fingers and the ground along the way. "Badum bum bum...Green land is coming ~" he giggles Aelric Caelwyn finds his attention shifting towards the elf who was working and singing. Their very interesting behavior catching his attention for sure. Though he does not call out or interrupt the diligent work being done. They appeared to be very comfortable in nature, enjoying the planting, and treating of the soil. Something that they seemed to genuinely enjoy. It made a lot more sense now, their earlier comments. The edge of his lips threaten to turn upward, but remain in place. Instead he partially turns to Lyonesse. "Did you find Gin?" ----- Logs continued ----- Maxwell returned to his work in the slums now, rolling his sleeves up his hands were already dirty from the work earlier in gathering herbs with Mingo.. The grass planted some time ago still had darkened soil where it had been tilled, watered and such. The morning dew was there but it might not seem such. But Maxwell knew.. Kneeling down beside some of the sproutlings he would hover his fingers just above the soil, closing his eyes to open his senses. Checking moisture and warmth the way one might check a pulse. [1] Gathering his watering can he made long trips back and forth to the well in the east, returning to carefully water the land Slowly..Refusing the temptetion to rush. Too much water would drown the roots, so young and new from the grass seed. Too little would starve them. He moved methodically, adjusting small channels in the dirt so moisture could spread evenly instead of pooling up uselessly. Maxwell hummed to himself quietly as he worked, the plants liked to be talked to, they could understand.. [2] The wood elf observed the land, and where the grass struggled, Maxwell Loosens the soil by hand breaking compacted clumps apart with aching fingers. he adds nothing magical, only compost, patience and time. His breath fogs in the early morning air as he worked steady and determined, his voice carrying subtly as he kept a hum and a song in his heart. His smile remained ever present, the plants and nature that brought him joy eminated from his being not quite as magic or mana but..Emotion. Something he felt the plants could pick up on and he hoped it encouraged them to grow. [3] The trees were harder though.. Their bark cracked and gray, branches brittle and lifeless. Maxwell moved to them and pressed his palm to one trunk and closes his eyes, not to cast but to listen. He offered the faintest nudge of mana, barely a whisper, just enough to encourage what life might still remain. To tell it that he was here..He seen it and he was going to help. Most days he kept this up nothing replied.. He offered prayer, comfort and time with each tree in the area. He spoke in the language of the forest, quietly whispering, offering a hug. [4] Maxwell napped under these trees frequently over the past days.. This was nothing new to him, he worked trimming dead branches carefully. Apologizing to the tree as he did as if it were a patient of the clinic just over yonder. As if he were a doctor speaking to a patient. The sound of wood breaking echoed out louder then it should in the quiet slums during the later hours. He stacks the fallen limbs neatly, already planning how they might be reused to protect new growth from wind. [5] The flowers demand constant attention over the previous and coming days.. Weeds creep in where soil has been disturbed, and Maxwell pulls them by hand, refusing shortcuts. He talks to the blooms as he works, praising their color, promising them space and sunlight. Even jesting with them. "Pearl your looking so beautiful today..Hows the spores? Ope!" he spots a bee straggling along the petal as he waved gently "Sorry, I didn't realize you had company..I'll just keep'er moving along" he states with a wink to the flower. [6] By midday, sweat soaked through hsi clothes..His back ached. His hands trembled when he paused to drink. Still, he rose and kept moving from patch to patch like a caretaker tending patients that couldn't tend for themselves. Though he stopped to think. Jasir should be here.. The thought lingered while he looked at the flowers, the man had taught him the value of not just using magic to bolster the work..A hard working hand did wonders, and a little magic for encouragement..Just a smidge..Here and there to remind it that it could, even when the land tried to give up. [7] Still, Jasirs lessons might have come as a nuisance at first to the elf, a drag.. Though even as he had thoughts about the man then, they were but silence now, and he could almost remenisce them in the soft rustle of the wind across the dirt blowing through the slums. ". . ." He would exhale softly before smiling as he kept working..He does not stop. Returning to bare patches of land he'd press the seeds into the soil by hand, whispering encouragement even as his throat tightened. He imagined the approving nods of the man who encouraged all of this.. [8] Vinchens absense lingered differently though.. There was no grief attached to it, only uncertainty. Maxwell occasionally looked towards the city, half expecting to see him return and continue to 'supervise' the work that was being done though every time the results yielded an empty horizon. He simply assumed Vinchen was busy with other things, he did afterall help Maxwell procure all these supplies by being present at the store and even helped carry some bags of seeds! Time would innevitably pass and the work would continue to be done.. [9] When the grass began to thicken in some places he'd planted first originally, not evenly..But enough that people should start stepping around it instead of over it. Maxwell smiled with pride, flickering through exhaustion in the act. He spent those afternoons reinforcing the soil around the trees with stones. Building crude borders to protect fragile roots from careless feet. It was tedius but neccessary. Growth needs gaurdians before it can defend itself after all. [10] He stepped back to look at the new work he'd done..And the work that had been done before Jasirs death, the difference was promising, and he sat for a moment to drink water and rehydrate himself.. He wasn't done yet though.. A short break before he got right back to it would be yielded for a meal and maybe twenty minutes of rest. Maxwell kept on with the work for the slums.. The days blur together. Sunrise. Work. Sunset. Repeat. Maxwells hands blister and then harden, his movement slow but never stop. When his mana stirs, he pushes it back using it only when failure seems imminent. This is not about power. It is about respect. Maxwell noticed things.. Children may begin to enjoy the flowers. Maxwell found at one point a cup of water near where one of his work stations was. He noticed stones had been varried and gathered without asking. [11] Piles of weeds pulled and gathered into piles. Somebody had been helping, perhaps the citizens int he slums? Perhaps someone else.. Either way As he focused on the work one evening, he took notice of light reflecting softly off the green that did not exist weeks prior.. Maxwell seen the glow of a fire fly to which he leaned himself down quietly and whispered. "This is for you.." he murmurs, not to the firefly per say in particular but...To the slums, the earth and everything around that could feel the life radiating from the life that was being breathed into the land. [12] The work was never fully done.. It became a day to day thing though misty mornings led dew to finally cling to the efforts.. He moved among it, stepping where stone remains bare, unwilling to crush even the smallest sign of progress beneath his feet. Spending hours reinforcing the edges of the growing patches, pressing soil back into place where the wind and rain had disheveled it. Where foot steps had loosned it. With steady hands he reshapes the land into gentle rises and shallow dips. [13] Guiding rainwater to these crevices to linger instead of flee. He needed this to work.. When he finished he stood and returned over to another dead tree, the wood elf paused longer then usual, scraping away loose bark and discovering living wood beneath. Pale, fragile but present.. He exhaled a breath he didn't realize he had been holding and wraps the trunk with a cloth to protect it from the sun, watering the cloth to dampen it with his watering can before he gave its trunk a gentle hug whispering to the tree.. "Thank you for believing in me.." he murmurs quietly [14] Maxwell began to gather fallen leaves from the forests edge and bring them back to spread around the trees base, building a natural mulch layer. No spell follows, just care. Just time. He presses the leaves down gently as if tucking it in for a bed time story, he quietly sat there that evening and would hum and sing quietly.. Rest for him and for the tree. His voice was quiet yet he sang with joy overflowing from him. The joy that his work was bearing fruit. Though wether this effort would stick..Or just wither away with time was up to the gods.. [15] Singing to the tree he's sit quietly "With a few good friends and a stick or two-- A Garden is built at a corner 'er two-- With a friend and a stick or tree'or four..A garden is built where it wasn't..Be-fo-oh-oh-ore--" he sang, softly, all copywrights going to winnie the freakin pooh on that one. He relaxed quietly under the tree while singing to the fruits of his labors.