GATHERING: Other (Level 4, pottery/clay containers)
Round 1
(Seriously, Tea, read the darn rules)

Kassander set off for the southern river in high spirits. Both his companions were with him, Remy riding in his accustomed place between Kassander's shoulders and Rommel trotting alongside. The weather had warmed enough, so Remy said from experience, to make the clay they needed easily dug out and malleable - not to mention the river water would be considerably less unpleasant to be in - so it was time to make jars. Some of them would eventually go on to hold alcohol when the time came to brew it, but he was hoping that they'd be able to make enough over the next couple of seasons to be able to trade off excess ones as well. They were useful enough for so many different things that he couldn't imagine it would be difficult to find someone who wanted them, particularly healers.

He'd scouted out his location long before it would have been warm enough to work the clay, so he didn't hesitate. Directly for a shallow part of the river he went, splashing into the slow muddy current up to his hocks before wading upsteam to where the dirt of the bank had been eroded away in a slight overhang. Rommel chose to stay dry, instead draping his head over the bank in an attempt to join Kassander in peering beneath the bank. "See anything?" the fox asked solemnly.

Naudir followed along after Kassander, pausing now and then to drink in the sights of the world around her. This was the farthest she’d ever travelled. It was so exciting! Her two companions came along with her. Balthazaar was perched on the middle of her back while Branwen sat upon her head. Both were taking a break from flying, their feathery bodies swaying in motion with Naudir’s frame as she trotted up next to Kassander. “So what are we doing again Kassander? Something about clay and jars? What’s a jar?” Naudir stood on the shore as she watched Kassander slip into the shallow edge of the river and begin splashing. “I knew it, the illness has made him go mad.” Balthazaar mumbled. Branwen pecked lightly at the irritated raven. “Rommel, what is he doing?” "Talk"

An odd parade of creatures meandered down to the river and Basileus' gaze couldn't help but go with them. He'd never seen anything like it. The birds he could maybe justify since it wasn't uncommon for them to aid in hunts and circle kills, but a fox? And he had no idea what was sitting between the man's shoulders. He'd never seen one in the homeland and he'd never seen one here either, so he could only assume it was unusual too. Basileus' ears perked forward as he watched the procession split at the river's edge. The girl's voice was just loud enough for him to catch her words. His curiosity turned into keen interest. Jars, eh? He was no stranger to those. Their use seemed to know no bounds and because of that a stash of them was a very valuable thing. It would be in his best interest, he decided, to get to know these wolves. The giant slowly extricated himself from the tangle of brush he'd been laying in. He stood still for a few seconds, watching for a moment and allowing them time to see him and then made his way closer to the shore. "Hello," he called as he strode closer. "Forgive me, but I could not help but hear...you are collecting clay for jars, yes?" Hover speech for translation