KORBIN
And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,
That blushed and bloomed,
The tavern had only been empty for a week, yet a thin layer of dust had already managed to settle over the surfaces. The building was empty. All the guests were still gone, and the bar was closed. Korbin's footsteps echoed between the walls as he slowly walked through the house, absorbing every detail. Scatttered belongings left behind lay here and there on chairs and couches. Dust and dirt had gathered in the corners, and all the rooms needed to be cleaned out properly. He had stopped by the kitchen but quickly left again, unable to deal with the sheer magnitude of the work required to get it back to his exacting standards. For now, he merely roamed the corridors. Examined everything, and jutted down notes on everything that would need to be done.
All the while, the ghost of Weaver walked with him. He could almost see her there, ducking in through doors, disappearing around a corner, and her voice was a whisper at the back of his mind. Stray comments and cutting remarks on scratched tables and stained floors, quiet wishes and every once in a while... a hint of laughter as she seemed to shrug and hit him lightly on the shoulder.
'Just get started.'
So he did. Windows were flung open in room after room as bedding was torn out and replaced, floors swept and washed, fireplaces cleaned out and restocked. Korbin worked slowly but methodically from the top and down. By the time he went to empty the final bucket of dirty water from the upstairs, half the day had passed. It felt longer, like the day would never end. Or maybe the work was what only kept coming.
Desperate for a break, he slumped into a chair and closed his eyes. Just for a minute... that was all he needed. Maybe it would make the ringing in his ears go away.
All the while, the ghost of Weaver walked with him. He could almost see her there, ducking in through doors, disappearing around a corner, and her voice was a whisper at the back of his mind. Stray comments and cutting remarks on scratched tables and stained floors, quiet wishes and every once in a while... a hint of laughter as she seemed to shrug and hit him lightly on the shoulder.
'Just get started.'
So he did. Windows were flung open in room after room as bedding was torn out and replaced, floors swept and washed, fireplaces cleaned out and restocked. Korbin worked slowly but methodically from the top and down. By the time he went to empty the final bucket of dirty water from the upstairs, half the day had passed. It felt longer, like the day would never end. Or maybe the work was what only kept coming.
Desperate for a break, he slumped into a chair and closed his eyes. Just for a minute... that was all he needed. Maybe it would make the ringing in his ears go away.
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.
Of the old time entombed.