With the promise of dining set up between at least some of the party members, the rest dispersed to do their personal preparations for the task at hand. This early in the morning, few proper eating establishments were ready to receive any customers at all, but lesser vendors always had simple treats available: roasted yams and potatoes were the standard, while others offered toasted bread and warmed drinks. Not all adventurers partook in such a lavish breakfast though; many had packed food for the day instead, chewing on jerky and dried fruits as they marched off to get a headstart on the day. Nighttime was dangerous, especially when daylight was so sparse. Better to enjoy good food after the day ended than before the day did, was the rationale that all the early birds followed.
Of course, for the party interested in the carriage request, daylight didn’t really matter. It was a three day journey through heavy snow to Fort Stalwart, after all, so like it or not, they’d be freezing in the middle of nowhere at night. Instead, the more preparation time they spent now, the more suffering they could alleviate later.
Soon enough, the group reconvened at the Recruiting Office once more, some more well-fed than others, some carrying more gear than the others. Upon stating their intent to take up this job with Mathers, the ever-grave, ever-surly receptionist (or was he a general? An officer? No one really knew) directed them towards one his assistants instead, a freckle-faced page who was less than eager to put on his patched-up coat and lead the Silver Moon soldiers out to the starting line of their job. Work was work though, and after many muffled curses and a good ten minute walk, the seven (plus sad page boi) made it to the granary, a large building of wood and stone, simple in design but fit for function. A makeshift stable had been set up beside the granary, looking relatively empty with only five work horses inside. Wagons, shielded from snowfall by tarps that looked like they had to be cleared off every couple of hours, sat there as well, the wood frosted over by persistent ice. It certainly wasn’t all that impressive, but considering the recent attacks on carriages and all, it wasn’t that big of a surprise either; even if times were good, none of the party had a particular reputation for getting this sort of work done, after all. Indeed, the freckle-faced page had snuck more than a couple of suspicious glances towards Argen and Muu, as if expecting either of them to go on a homicidal rampage at a moment’s notice.
But neither of them did, and after the preliminary explanations of where everything was and how to tie up the horse and all that, the page said, hugging himself to retain warmth, “Well, dunno if any of you got caught out, but it’s like, real bloody cold out at night. If you don’t make a shelter, you’re basically dead, so don’t be lazy ‘bout it, yeah? We’re literally running out of horses and throwing away our supplies to those savages in the wilds because dumbshit soldiers don’t know basic survival skills...so don’t mess this up. First shipment will exclusively be in grain, but if you succeed here, we can have you sending more precious supplies up to the Fort. Capiche, fellas? I’ll help you with loading and all, but afterwards, you’re on your own.”
A pause, and the page managed a grin, unlocking the door into the granary. Empty burlap sacks laid by the corner, while stacks upon stacks of filled sacks filled the large holes that were dug in the storeroom to maximum capacity. It was dry and cool inside, but the wooden beams that supported the ceiling groaned without end, creaking in a way that felt as if it threatened collapse every minute. The young page looked unconcerned, however, leaning against the doorway.
“Basically all there is to say,” he said, with a sense of finality, “Get to it, yeah? Doubt you’d want to spend any more nights out in the wild than necessary.”
…
“YEAH!” Katya suddenly cried out, after being silent the entire time. “Let’s do it, guys! We got this!” Ignoring the look of surprise on the page’s face (who hadn’t even realized the presence of a small child priest until now), the twin-tailed girl immediately leaned her staff against the wall, before rolling up her sleeves and striding over to the first sack of grains. Impassioned and extremely motivated, she grasped onto two ends of the sack, took in a deep breath, and immediately pulled with all her might!
Only for her feet to slip and for her to fall on her butt.
But those sorts of accidents happened, and even though Katya may have been a small child in the eyes of those unaccustomed to the severity of life in Andeave, her teacher hadn’t shirked in his duties to toughen her up during training at all. Bouncing back onto her feet, she tried again, and this time, she actually managed to lift a sack up. It was only a few inches off the ground and her arms were definitely straining from the weight of it, but, wobbling quickly like a penguin, Katya said with a mixture of urgency and…well, basically just urgency, “C’mon Ettamri, pick out a wagon so we can fill ‘er up!”
A pause, and then there was that stubborn immaturity again.
“Not that this is heavy or anything, of course. I can hold this foreverrrrrrr, but daylight’s dying so hurry up and pick one already.”
