Rebuilding Sandcastles
Apr 27, 2013 22:56:39 GMT -5
Post by Kender Bard on Apr 27, 2013 22:56:39 GMT -5
Cascata stood on the docks (what remained of them) of Ronduin, watching as people labored to sort out the wreckage that was Rivenway. Villarain wasn't in much better shape, but she knew that it was important to get Rivenway on its feet first. More people had lost homes here.
It'd been dicey and uncertain, living displaced. They'd lost a depressing amount of people, despite some forewarning and her best efforts to see everyone to safety. Her fingertips went to the holy symbol of Worg that someone had managed to procure for her, at her request. It hung around her neck now; Worg had saved her people, providing force-sent shelter and food until they could wait out the demon habitation. She wasn't sure why or where the demons had gone to. All that mattered for now was that their homeland was free of them, to all appearances.
They'd need materials soon. She was already trying to sort out who would go where to plead for aid. But for now, they had materials enough in the form of destroyed homes. Tiakara and whatever smaller demons had accompanied her had made a mess of the place. So the first task was to begin setting up crude shelters for everyone. Any building that could hold people safely was now packed as full as possible. Everything else was being torn down and sorted out. Even as people labored to drag wood and stone to deposits on the edge of the island, people were putting together very rough, crude shelters out of those materials. Small, ugly blocky homes where each domocile shared a wall with the one next to it--but it'd hold people. And space was still as precious as it was before.
Still more people were trying to get food for everyone. The waters were far emptier than they were before. No doubt the demons had feasted on the bountiful sealife here. What food was gathered would have to be carefully rationed.
One hand went to Cascata's brow as she sighed. "What a mess," she murmured for not the first time.
It'd been dicey and uncertain, living displaced. They'd lost a depressing amount of people, despite some forewarning and her best efforts to see everyone to safety. Her fingertips went to the holy symbol of Worg that someone had managed to procure for her, at her request. It hung around her neck now; Worg had saved her people, providing force-sent shelter and food until they could wait out the demon habitation. She wasn't sure why or where the demons had gone to. All that mattered for now was that their homeland was free of them, to all appearances.
They'd need materials soon. She was already trying to sort out who would go where to plead for aid. But for now, they had materials enough in the form of destroyed homes. Tiakara and whatever smaller demons had accompanied her had made a mess of the place. So the first task was to begin setting up crude shelters for everyone. Any building that could hold people safely was now packed as full as possible. Everything else was being torn down and sorted out. Even as people labored to drag wood and stone to deposits on the edge of the island, people were putting together very rough, crude shelters out of those materials. Small, ugly blocky homes where each domocile shared a wall with the one next to it--but it'd hold people. And space was still as precious as it was before.
Still more people were trying to get food for everyone. The waters were far emptier than they were before. No doubt the demons had feasted on the bountiful sealife here. What food was gathered would have to be carefully rationed.
One hand went to Cascata's brow as she sighed. "What a mess," she murmured for not the first time.