KORBIN
And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,
That blushed and bloomed,
Relocating guests, refugees and all their items from the Kraai to the Academy took some doing, but Korbin stood by his decision to close down for the week. He poured all of himself into the tasks at hand, and a surface glance might suggest he was back to being the same person who had worked to restore calm and order after the attack on the Citadel. Thinner, harder perhaps, and with hollows like bruises beneath the eyes, but clear in the head, and working hard.
It would be easy to think he was okay now. It was fine if people thought so. Korbin tried to make himself believe it too, and drowning himself in work at least helped keep his thoughts away from dangerous impulses. Lugging baggage, ale kegs and what remained of the food and firewood stores kept him busy, as did setting up the temporary little bar. It was basic; a stack of mugs, a few propped up barrels, and a table to separate himself from the thirsty and the bored. Serving and rationing supplies to last the week would leave him something to do.
It was all good. Until suddenly his tavern was empty, the people in place, his supplies ready, and his hands left without anything to busy themselves with.
That's when he went to see Noah. Finding him by the entrance, Korbin tugged at the scarf tied about his neck, eager to get it off but unsure if there was a point before everyone was inside.
"Need a hand with anything?" he asked. Really, Korbin was exhausted. But he couldn't stop now, couldn't bring himself to relax. It was too hard to get himself going again. And his friend looked like he could use some help.
It would be easy to think he was okay now. It was fine if people thought so. Korbin tried to make himself believe it too, and drowning himself in work at least helped keep his thoughts away from dangerous impulses. Lugging baggage, ale kegs and what remained of the food and firewood stores kept him busy, as did setting up the temporary little bar. It was basic; a stack of mugs, a few propped up barrels, and a table to separate himself from the thirsty and the bored. Serving and rationing supplies to last the week would leave him something to do.
It was all good. Until suddenly his tavern was empty, the people in place, his supplies ready, and his hands left without anything to busy themselves with.
That's when he went to see Noah. Finding him by the entrance, Korbin tugged at the scarf tied about his neck, eager to get it off but unsure if there was a point before everyone was inside.
"Need a hand with anything?" he asked. Really, Korbin was exhausted. But he couldn't stop now, couldn't bring himself to relax. It was too hard to get himself going again. And his friend looked like he could use some help.
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.
Of the old time entombed.
