( d, open -- mushrooms ) Squatting on the ground, open book of illustrations and text in one gloved hand while the other hovers near a mushroom, is Jayce. He is trying not to make himself ill, see, by referencing this tome on local fungi in an attempt to identify the different species present in the outpost. Any Riftwatch members with an intimiate familiarity of its library or has an interest in Thedosian flora, for whatever purpose, might recognize the book as one of Riftwatch's copies of The Botanical Compendium by Ines Arancia. Yes, he borrowed it. Officially checked out, even!
Near his boots is a basket that contains some of the mushrooms -- a humble harvest, if you will -- of two apparently different varieties, grouped separately. One assumes these might have passed the first safety check re: edibility, but Jayce certainly isn't well versed enough in shrooms to tell the difference between a toxic and non-toxic specimen if they're similar in appearance.
He intends to request another member double-check his yield before consuming, but flags down the closest individual in passing. "Hey, just a sec," he's saying, gesturing with his free hand between the cluster of mushrooms in front of him and the open pages, flipping between two entries with his finger and thumb, "does this look like a Blushing Morel or a Bleeding Morel to you?"
Both look disastrously similar. One will cause internal bleeding, the other will not. [ and they're both totally made up for this scenario! ]
( e, open -- forge ) Amidst the abandoned forge is a plethora of tools. Jayce evaluates them with a casual sort of awe, mentally catalouging the contents. Would Hedda find any use for these? He thinks it's a fair inquiry given the time, expertise and resources she'd given to him and Viktor.
But first, they need to see if the forge is still functional. This takes quite a bit of physical labor, shoveling out the old coal and coke into separate piles for future use, and ash and other less useful materials out of the hearth, and then scrubbing off any present rust. Yes, he's also doing this shirtless. It's filthy work; at least he's spared his tunic.
By the end of it, his exterior is at least seventy-five percent soot... but the billows work and the flame catches. With Riftwatch's efforts, the forge grumbles awake.
Most of his time in the outpost is henceforth spent in the forge, cleaning and revitalizing the tools, and other such related tasks, but he's around for any heavy lifting that needs to be done. Probably still shirtless. And sore.
ferelden
Squatting on the ground, open book of illustrations and text in one gloved hand while the other hovers near a mushroom, is Jayce. He is trying not to make himself ill, see, by referencing this tome on local fungi in an attempt to identify the different species present in the outpost. Any Riftwatch members with an intimiate familiarity of its library or has an interest in Thedosian flora, for whatever purpose, might recognize the book as one of Riftwatch's copies of The Botanical Compendium by Ines Arancia. Yes, he borrowed it. Officially checked out, even!
Near his boots is a basket that contains some of the mushrooms -- a humble harvest, if you will -- of two apparently different varieties, grouped separately. One assumes these might have passed the first safety check re: edibility, but Jayce certainly isn't well versed enough in shrooms to tell the difference between a toxic and non-toxic specimen if they're similar in appearance.
He intends to request another member double-check his yield before consuming, but flags down the closest individual in passing. "Hey, just a sec," he's saying, gesturing with his free hand between the cluster of mushrooms in front of him and the open pages, flipping between two entries with his finger and thumb, "does this look like a Blushing Morel or a Bleeding Morel to you?"
Both look disastrously similar. One will cause internal bleeding, the other will not. [ and they're both totally made up for this scenario! ]
( e, open -- forge )
Amidst the abandoned forge is a plethora of tools. Jayce evaluates them with a casual sort of awe, mentally catalouging the contents. Would Hedda find any use for these? He thinks it's a fair inquiry given the time, expertise and resources she'd given to him and Viktor.
But first, they need to see if the forge is still functional. This takes quite a bit of physical labor, shoveling out the old coal and coke into separate piles for future use, and ash and other less useful materials out of the hearth, and then scrubbing off any present rust. Yes, he's also doing this shirtless. It's filthy work; at least he's spared his tunic.
By the end of it, his exterior is at least seventy-five percent soot... but the billows work and the flame catches. With Riftwatch's efforts, the forge grumbles awake.
Most of his time in the outpost is henceforth spent in the forge, cleaning and revitalizing the tools, and other such related tasks, but he's around for any heavy lifting that needs to be done. Probably still shirtless. And sore.