Mar 25, 2023 7:27 pm
Damanadros Kappelis clears out another batch of birds from the upper balcony ledge.
His Sleep spell is perfected now. Once the big seahawks fall over in their deep slumber, they are easy to cage. These majestic osprey might fetch a few coin at the market, unlike the pelicans and gulls.
Damanandros had maintained the ruined shoreline tower for nearly two years now. He had been granted exclusive access by the Port Magisterium on agreement that he kept the old ruins free from birds, rodents, and other unsavory miscreants. The task had been easy enough. Lucky for him there were no sea scrags who had taken up residency here, as had happened at the abandoned lighthouse among the old North Ruins!
The tower had been a comfortable, though eccentric, abode for a time. There was one interior room that had remained structurally sound, and relatively dry. It had a working fireplace and stove. Damanadros had been able to study his scrolls, construct and improve his own spellbook, and run his experiments in peace through the seasons.
Now though, the roof of the little chamber had finally collapsed. What was once a slow drip leak was now an open wound in the interior structure. Water had poured into the inner room as through a sieve during the last storm. What was worse, the chimney had cracked in the collapse, and the flute line was now obstructed. Smoke billowed out into the room last evening when Damanandros stoked a heavy fire.
The young mage carried the bird cages out to the lonely shore line and gazed out across the harbor. The view of mighty Kourithos in the morning sun was the same as ever. Ships glided slowly into port in a calm silence.
Damanadros faced some challenges for sure, but perhaps his circumstance would change for the better.
His Sleep spell is perfected now. Once the big seahawks fall over in their deep slumber, they are easy to cage. These majestic osprey might fetch a few coin at the market, unlike the pelicans and gulls.
Damanandros had maintained the ruined shoreline tower for nearly two years now. He had been granted exclusive access by the Port Magisterium on agreement that he kept the old ruins free from birds, rodents, and other unsavory miscreants. The task had been easy enough. Lucky for him there were no sea scrags who had taken up residency here, as had happened at the abandoned lighthouse among the old North Ruins!
The tower had been a comfortable, though eccentric, abode for a time. There was one interior room that had remained structurally sound, and relatively dry. It had a working fireplace and stove. Damanadros had been able to study his scrolls, construct and improve his own spellbook, and run his experiments in peace through the seasons.
Now though, the roof of the little chamber had finally collapsed. What was once a slow drip leak was now an open wound in the interior structure. Water had poured into the inner room as through a sieve during the last storm. What was worse, the chimney had cracked in the collapse, and the flute line was now obstructed. Smoke billowed out into the room last evening when Damanandros stoked a heavy fire.
The young mage carried the bird cages out to the lonely shore line and gazed out across the harbor. The view of mighty Kourithos in the morning sun was the same as ever. Ships glided slowly into port in a calm silence.
Damanadros faced some challenges for sure, but perhaps his circumstance would change for the better.
