Amanda stroked the oar steadily, pushing her small pontoon boat across the waves. She held the oar loosely in both hands, not quite gripping it as hard as one should. She focused her telekinetic power into the oar handle, using the magic to focus her grip. She wasn't yet strong enough to stroke the oar solely with the magic, but mixing her own meager strength with the telekinetic power both eased the burden on her arms and worked to practice the magical "muscles" of her mind.
The sun shone brightly overhead. It was a clear day, with birds soaring across the sky and not a cloud to be seen. The smell of the sea air filled her nostrils as the boat rocked with each ebb of the ocean current beneath her.
She leaned over the side of the boat, her brown eyes scanning beneath the waves. A clear day like this was perfect for scavenging wrecks. On a murky day, it was hard to see far beneath the water, but on a perfect, clear day, one could see all the way down to the shallow sands.
Eventually, she found what she was looking for. A small wrecked boat, about 30 feet beneath the waves. One day, with the right magic, she would be able to dive down even further and explore the great wrecks of lost sailing ships far from the coast. But for now, the wreck of the small sailboat would do.
She set the oar down in the bottom of the boat, then pulled her backpack onto her back. She was dressed for the weather, in a sturdy and comfortable swimsuit, designed to take a beating without the fabric getting cut or torn on stray nails or sharp edges. She wore a belt with a small steel knife for cutting away ropes or kelp. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail to keep it out of her face as she swam.
With a graceful leap, she dove into the water, holding her breath and swimming down towards the wrecked boat. She'd built up high endurance over the course of her time scavenging both on and off the shore, and she could hold her breath for several minutes. Enough time to get down to the sailboat and take a look around. The boat was small enough for only two or three people. The hull was broken apart, smashed on the rocks that dotted some of the shallower areas of the bay. Experienced sailors followed the sea charts that marked the rocky locations, and the truly experienced locals knew from their years of sailing which parts of the bay to steer around. But the one-time owner of this boat had apparently not known of the dangers of the shallows, and had steered their ship into a rocky outcropping, fracturing the hull. It had likely been a murky day when the ship sank, and the sharper rocks that stretched to just below the surface had no doubt been out of sight.
Amanda swam to the boat's deck. It was covered in barnacles and slime; it must have sank here some years before. She had to use her knife and her telekinesis to cut away some of the kelp that had begun strangling the wreck. Once she had a path cut open, she swam down into the boat's hold.
Her chest started to burn by the time she reached the inside of the hold. Not much longer before she'd have to go up for air. But she quickly found what she was looking for: a strongbox tucked under a shelf, with a sturdy lock holding it closed.
She held her hand up over the lock, closing her eyes. Stretched her magic forward, reaching into the lock. Using the telekinesis was like using an invisible hand, but one without physical form. She could feel everything she "touched" as clearly as she would have felt it with her fingers. With her senses focused on the magic, she could feel the inside of the lock down to every last detail.
Being able to work on the lock from the inside was far and away easier than picking it the old fashioned way. She didn't need to search for the locking pins, she could simply feel them within her telekinetic grasp. In no time at all, the lock clicked open, and the contents of the chest were revealed.
She dumped the entire contents of the strongbox into her backpack, leaving the heavy box behind. She then swam to the surface, letting out a sharp gasp of air as soon as her head broke free of the water.
Once she had climbed back on board her boat, she rifled through the contents of the box. A few small valuables, some jewelry, and a couple of cheap knick knacks. Some decent value there, albeit not enough to make her rich. Still, she could make some profitable trades in the marketplace with the goods.
Satisfied with the day's haul, she rowed back to the docks, tying her boat in her usual berth. A number of other small rowboats and pontoon boats were tied off nearby. She paid the harbor master a portion of her scavenges each month to watch over her boat and keep it secure. Boat thefts weren't the most common occurrence, but it was worth the price she paid to the harbor master to keep her little vessel safe. That boat was her livelihood.
Backpack slung across her shoulder, Amanda looked around the docks, making her way past sailors and traders back towards the market stalls that dotted the shoreline, where goods large and small were traded for import and export with the larger ships that came to port. She would no doubt find sailors and travelers passing through the port, who would be looking to trade for the valuables she'd just brought to shore.
The sun shone brightly overhead. It was a clear day, with birds soaring across the sky and not a cloud to be seen. The smell of the sea air filled her nostrils as the boat rocked with each ebb of the ocean current beneath her.
She leaned over the side of the boat, her brown eyes scanning beneath the waves. A clear day like this was perfect for scavenging wrecks. On a murky day, it was hard to see far beneath the water, but on a perfect, clear day, one could see all the way down to the shallow sands.
Eventually, she found what she was looking for. A small wrecked boat, about 30 feet beneath the waves. One day, with the right magic, she would be able to dive down even further and explore the great wrecks of lost sailing ships far from the coast. But for now, the wreck of the small sailboat would do.
She set the oar down in the bottom of the boat, then pulled her backpack onto her back. She was dressed for the weather, in a sturdy and comfortable swimsuit, designed to take a beating without the fabric getting cut or torn on stray nails or sharp edges. She wore a belt with a small steel knife for cutting away ropes or kelp. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail to keep it out of her face as she swam.
With a graceful leap, she dove into the water, holding her breath and swimming down towards the wrecked boat. She'd built up high endurance over the course of her time scavenging both on and off the shore, and she could hold her breath for several minutes. Enough time to get down to the sailboat and take a look around. The boat was small enough for only two or three people. The hull was broken apart, smashed on the rocks that dotted some of the shallower areas of the bay. Experienced sailors followed the sea charts that marked the rocky locations, and the truly experienced locals knew from their years of sailing which parts of the bay to steer around. But the one-time owner of this boat had apparently not known of the dangers of the shallows, and had steered their ship into a rocky outcropping, fracturing the hull. It had likely been a murky day when the ship sank, and the sharper rocks that stretched to just below the surface had no doubt been out of sight.
Amanda swam to the boat's deck. It was covered in barnacles and slime; it must have sank here some years before. She had to use her knife and her telekinesis to cut away some of the kelp that had begun strangling the wreck. Once she had a path cut open, she swam down into the boat's hold.
Her chest started to burn by the time she reached the inside of the hold. Not much longer before she'd have to go up for air. But she quickly found what she was looking for: a strongbox tucked under a shelf, with a sturdy lock holding it closed.
She held her hand up over the lock, closing her eyes. Stretched her magic forward, reaching into the lock. Using the telekinesis was like using an invisible hand, but one without physical form. She could feel everything she "touched" as clearly as she would have felt it with her fingers. With her senses focused on the magic, she could feel the inside of the lock down to every last detail.
Being able to work on the lock from the inside was far and away easier than picking it the old fashioned way. She didn't need to search for the locking pins, she could simply feel them within her telekinetic grasp. In no time at all, the lock clicked open, and the contents of the chest were revealed.
She dumped the entire contents of the strongbox into her backpack, leaving the heavy box behind. She then swam to the surface, letting out a sharp gasp of air as soon as her head broke free of the water.
Once she had climbed back on board her boat, she rifled through the contents of the box. A few small valuables, some jewelry, and a couple of cheap knick knacks. Some decent value there, albeit not enough to make her rich. Still, she could make some profitable trades in the marketplace with the goods.
Satisfied with the day's haul, she rowed back to the docks, tying her boat in her usual berth. A number of other small rowboats and pontoon boats were tied off nearby. She paid the harbor master a portion of her scavenges each month to watch over her boat and keep it secure. Boat thefts weren't the most common occurrence, but it was worth the price she paid to the harbor master to keep her little vessel safe. That boat was her livelihood.
Backpack slung across her shoulder, Amanda looked around the docks, making her way past sailors and traders back towards the market stalls that dotted the shoreline, where goods large and small were traded for import and export with the larger ships that came to port. She would no doubt find sailors and travelers passing through the port, who would be looking to trade for the valuables she'd just brought to shore.
