The royal gardeners have their own stores set near the Giant Flower Garden, though the stores are more a glorified conservatory and the glass in the windows glints a thousand colours in and around the immediate area. The gardeners tend not to use magic to help plants grow as they think nature wonderful enough but as an aid against pests of all kinds, a good spell and a wand is an excellent aid. And when dragons and other foul fiends are about, there is no alternative. There’s a limit to what weedkiller can do. The gardeners take pride in what they do and the Palace gardens are always a riot of colour from the subtle tones right up to the brashest hues magic can invent. The Queen finds a great deal of peace in her gardens and whilst the gardeners look down on her own “little patch”, monarchs aren’t supposed to get their hands dirty, the gardening staff accept she means well and best still she does not meddle with what they do, unlike Eileen who was known to moan if a hue was too bright or a rose had grown too tall.
The nicer varieties of birds are encouraged into the royal gardens. What the Queen wants are the beautiful singers (lovely ideally in voice and looks but a sparrow won’t be turned away). What she doesn’t want are birds that rip other birds apart for their food so no magnificent falcons or sparrowhawks here. They - and their magical equivalent in terms of birds of prey - stick to the wilds not daring to do anything else. Being blasted out of the sky by a gun on Earth is one thing, the bird does have a chance of getting away, but in the Kingdom no spell cast specifically at a target misses and the birds are in no position to cast spells back to defend themselves. That privilege belongs to the humanoid type of magical being only. The Witch’s dragon uses its natural cunning to help it and those spells it picked up whilst it lived with her. But this is odd and dangerous… Nobody wants wildlife being too clever. Nobody wants to consider where that might lead.
There is a Rough Guide to Magical Creatures book (every household must have at least one copy) and a fairyvision programme based on the volume is broadcast frequently (everybody is expected to watch). Updates are added as and when new species are discovered though it has been noted with some dismay this only happens when some unfortunate dwarf somewhere ends up being dinner for a creature the realm has not heard of before, witnessed by his colleagues. There is a reason only the dwarves work in the deeps. The other species aren’t stupid. The dwarves insist they’re not but given the inherent risks just associated with mining, the other species beg to differ. Mind, the dwarves do come up with some excellent descriptions of the new creatures - accurate, explicit and known to make the fainthearted sick.
The nicer varieties of birds are encouraged into the royal gardens. What the Queen wants are the beautiful singers (lovely ideally in voice and looks but a sparrow won’t be turned away). What she doesn’t want are birds that rip other birds apart for their food so no magnificent falcons or sparrowhawks here. They - and their magical equivalent in terms of birds of prey - stick to the wilds not daring to do anything else. Being blasted out of the sky by a gun on Earth is one thing, the bird does have a chance of getting away, but in the Kingdom no spell cast specifically at a target misses and the birds are in no position to cast spells back to defend themselves. That privilege belongs to the humanoid type of magical being only. The Witch’s dragon uses its natural cunning to help it and those spells it picked up whilst it lived with her. But this is odd and dangerous… Nobody wants wildlife being too clever. Nobody wants to consider where that might lead.
There is a Rough Guide to Magical Creatures book (every household must have at least one copy) and a fairyvision programme based on the volume is broadcast frequently (everybody is expected to watch). Updates are added as and when new species are discovered though it has been noted with some dismay this only happens when some unfortunate dwarf somewhere ends up being dinner for a creature the realm has not heard of before, witnessed by his colleagues. There is a reason only the dwarves work in the deeps. The other species aren’t stupid. The dwarves insist they’re not but given the inherent risks just associated with mining, the other species beg to differ. Mind, the dwarves do come up with some excellent descriptions of the new creatures - accurate, explicit and known to make the fainthearted sick.
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