Ennrion, Tareq


Pre-dawn preparations find Tareq and Ennrion gathering more goods and hiding them away as they make ready…


It is pre dawn of the first day of the third month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.


Tomb Reliquary, Kurkar Hold

OOC Date 07 Feb 2018 05:00



Tomb Reliquary

What is death but a beginning? Intermittently for centuries, this cave system was a final resting location for nomads and Lords alike. Thick brown rock, rough to the touch, and sometimes capped with the light of glows, expands in narrow corridors. The dirt underfoot is coarse and actions tend to echo. Dry here, the dead desiccate and have layered over the Turns, though they're not in any real abundance. Creative in their macabre entertainment, youths will sometimes manipulate skeletons in various positions, 'Karl' being a titular favorite.

Most people tend to stock up before winter comes, but sometimes necessity calls for changing those traditions. Spring is just a few days away and yet still wagons have been rolling into Kurkar. Some of those are quickly claimed by the plague of crafters that are still investing the caverns and the traders that have sprouted up trying to get a bit of the wonderous blue glow to sell to those who can't get here (never mind how it tends to fade within two or three days of leaving the underground Hold). As for some of those other wagons well… these tend to come in at the oddest hours where most folks are in bed. Tareq is definitely not sleeping in this early morning hours. He's currently the one driving a rather reluctant mule further down the twisting caverns leading up to the tombs. "Get your move on you sharding beast!" He's not the best draftsman, but slowly but surely the animal is being convinced to move.

And while most are content to overlook a few odd-hour deliveries, those who normally would be stirred to caution and alarm are otherwise distracted. Ennrion has been keeping the so-called “council” busy with his now open-voiced protests. Having gained some support has put Asemra and her people, as well as other interested parties, on the defensive. It’s a tactic not without its faults, as Ennrion is no politician and the ruse can’t hold up forever. Nor can the peace, but so far that has held… barely. In one of his tempers, he stalks the lower tunnels of the tombs, paths only he and a few others would know well enough to traverse them with a sense of confidence. “Yelling only makes them more stubborn,” he chides irritably to Tareq, while approaching the mule. Temper or no, he knows these beasts but it’s no so much the animal that interests him than what it is pulling. “What’s inside?”

"Can't get more stubborn if they're made of it…" Tareq might be like the pot calling the kettle black in this particular moment. This particular burdenbeast and him might be even more well suited than it seems. There does come a point where no matter what abuse he might hurl on the animal, it will not be going through the narrow mouth into the tombs proper. With a snort of defeat, the man will concede defeat and hop off the wagon seat. "Couple barrels of salted beef. Tubers. Cabbage. And Ale." The essentials, after all, right?

Ennrion has gone into one of those not-good silences while Tareq speaks and lists off the materials. He’ll approach the burdenbeast in the mean time, running a hand along the animal’s back and shoulders where harness and equipment do not get in the way. “I’d be more assured with non perishable goods. Though tubers and salted beef are hardy enough.” He knows just how fast food can run low or spoil before it can be consumed; it’s not a concern he wishes to face if they’re driven to that point. “We should think of storing water.” he adds, though there’s a vague smirk for the ale. Essentials!

Tareq isn't the dumbest person around and can occasionally show some moments of almost brilliance. There's a bit of a smirk as the 'boss' seems to overlook that cabbage, but that's the first thing Tareq starts unloading. Not in a crate, but in a well sealed urn as big as a mains torso. "It'll last. Many a winter up in the mines we survived on cabbage and not much else. Shredded it up and stick it in vinegar." Nevermind the 'vinegar' is just juices the cabbage releases when fermenting with the salt. Good thing Tareq just bought it and didn't actually make the sauerkraut. He'll trundle on further back to find one of the niches less likely to be disturbed to tuck his first cabbage-urn into. "Yeah… there are a few streams in here. Shouldn't be too hard to get some stocked away. In case." Always in case.

Leaving Tareq to unload the cabbage and store it away, Ennrion will work on sorting out the rest and plotting where best to tuck it away. He’ll do this mostly in silence, leaving the other man to prattle on to his heart’s content. So long as he doesn’t go shouting things! “That’s what I am concerned about,” he mutters. “Should it all turn sour for us. Streams lead from somewhere and can be tampered with. Wouldn’t put it past the bastards…” Given they held no reservations in throwing that lyme dust down into the tunnels!

Seeing as he got most of his yelling out of the way with the mule earlier, Tareq is content to move most of the containers with minimal prattle. There's work to be done before too many people start waking up and wandering about. "Tomorrow night, I'll round up empty barrels. 'N someone to help. Water's fucking heavy." And even Tareq has his limits, but as long as a hand is assigned, water will be acquired. Just like all those other supplies that might have been funded by some rather dubious arrangements and dealings over the past couple fortnight.

“Take the young blood with you, too. It’d do him some good,” Ennrion mutters under his breath and that cryptic note could apply to actual ‘youths’ in their later teens gathered to their cause or his own flesh and blood. His temper seems to mellow some with the task of unloading the goods from that cart or from Tareq’s assurance that the water situation will be resolved. Regardless, he’ll linger only to scowl thoughtfully. “We should make inventory of what we already have and what we may have overlooked.” he mutters, only to grimace. “I’ve some matters I need to attend to. If you need to find me, I’ll be down below. There is a meeting later to “talk” with Asemra and her ilk.” So he needs to prepare for that.

Tareq taps a finger against his temple. "Got it all up here, but I'll get a proper inventory." How much good that inventory might be considering it'll probably be some code of his own devising combines with some barely literate wherry scratch is another question. "And yeah, not much the younguns can do to fuck up hauling water." He'll sort out the rest of the unloading and then see the mule back to wherever he borrowed it from. And at some point, Tareq will actually get some sleep before moving onto more of their ever increasing 'business'.

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