It's the job that's never started
Sol - the soft-hearted, friend-oriented dragon - doesn't take Goose's hint. When Thorn fails to offer anything in terms of food or treats and the dog takes off for a patch of sunlight, Sol bounces along behind Goose, tail wagging and tongue lolling from his maw as he chirps and growls in playful tones like an annoying Pomeranian with wings.
More focused on the work, Zavien is happy to leave the plans and blueprints to Thorn, but there's a hint of disappointment when the work begins, silently wishing they could just hang out and catch up. He knows they'll have time later - when the work is done and the city is finally relieved of the shadow lingering in the rubble. It's a small bit of consolation, along with the obvious talent the man has for arranging the project. Zavien smiles softly as they part ways, chuckling at Iskra's joke before they're onto their own tasks.
The planning men gather around the courtesan, hanging on his every word and nodding their heads, taking it all very seriously. The intensity and dour expressions are explained when an older gentleman clears his throat, concern radiating from him as he asks, "Will this stop the Tower from falling again?"
Meanwhile, Iskra is having a grand old time. The abundance of soldiers in the group cling to the structure and organization, falling into order quickly to combat the mud. Fire, water, brooms, shovels, and rakes work to remove the grime, soft grunts and the occasional laughter filter as the men expend their energy. It's long, tedious work that slowly reveals pieces of missed rubble and piled debris beneath the dried patches of dirt, an echo of the previous foundation standing where the new one will be laid.
That is, if Zavien can get it together. The concrete formula sounds simple enough, and his group seems to know what they're doing even if he doesn't, but a heavy pour is all that's needed to disrupt the work, one batch of concrete turning out too thick and another too thin. He runs a hand through his hair, depositing bits of the mixture to harden later as he examines the trouble so he can figure out how to salvage it all.
Great work! Keep it up!
Iskra: The mud is all dried. Clear it - and any other lingering debris - out of the way for the foundation.
Hawthorn: The group is concerned about the Tower falling again.
Zavien: The concrete's consistency is wrong.
More focused on the work, Zavien is happy to leave the plans and blueprints to Thorn, but there's a hint of disappointment when the work begins, silently wishing they could just hang out and catch up. He knows they'll have time later - when the work is done and the city is finally relieved of the shadow lingering in the rubble. It's a small bit of consolation, along with the obvious talent the man has for arranging the project. Zavien smiles softly as they part ways, chuckling at Iskra's joke before they're onto their own tasks.
The planning men gather around the courtesan, hanging on his every word and nodding their heads, taking it all very seriously. The intensity and dour expressions are explained when an older gentleman clears his throat, concern radiating from him as he asks, "Will this stop the Tower from falling again?"
Meanwhile, Iskra is having a grand old time. The abundance of soldiers in the group cling to the structure and organization, falling into order quickly to combat the mud. Fire, water, brooms, shovels, and rakes work to remove the grime, soft grunts and the occasional laughter filter as the men expend their energy. It's long, tedious work that slowly reveals pieces of missed rubble and piled debris beneath the dried patches of dirt, an echo of the previous foundation standing where the new one will be laid.
That is, if Zavien can get it together. The concrete formula sounds simple enough, and his group seems to know what they're doing even if he doesn't, but a heavy pour is all that's needed to disrupt the work, one batch of concrete turning out too thick and another too thin. He runs a hand through his hair, depositing bits of the mixture to harden later as he examines the trouble so he can figure out how to salvage it all.
Great work! Keep it up!
Iskra: The mud is all dried. Clear it - and any other lingering debris - out of the way for the foundation.
Hawthorn: The group is concerned about the Tower falling again.
Zavien: The concrete's consistency is wrong.
as takes longest to finish.
Zavien
