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Post by Kira on Jul 25, 2022 11:43:10 GMT -5
Wax dripped down from the burning candle, its sole light flickering with the subtle shifts of the wind and the occasional breath from the one currently using it while checking ledgers. Garret Minz wasn't too much of a complainer when it came to work, the young man doing his best to with whatever job he could land himself with every season change. Double checking the books of the local fishery for scraps was just another day as far as he was concerned, at the very least it got him out from having to actually work on the line. Landing the job had been a piece of cake, although now looking through the numbers, Garret wondered if he'd be able to keep it. Red marks were abound for the business as far as the young man could see, and he if had learned anything from his previous jobs, workers were the first thing to be tossed during financial woes.
Finishing with the ledger for the night, Garret stood up from his seat, moving about the small attic he had been given above the warehouse proper. He had worked it out with management, but the room provided for both work and rest was little more then some straw and blanket, a rotted chair and desk, along with a complimentary bucket for all types of waste. The young man hated how he lived, moving to the small windowsill on the opposite side of the room, a small glimpse into the world around him. He wondered how he was supposed to change things, make them for the better and for himself. He knew life wasn't fair, but with how those in power had lived for son long, it bothered it something fierce that they should live in pleasure with little work, and he should live in squaller despite the hardships he took.
The moonlit night would be his only companion for that night, as the changes going eon elsewhere would inevitably change the fate of young Garret Minz.
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Post by Kira on Aug 8, 2022 22:40:24 GMT -5
Three Months.
He had signed away his life for three months.
The Mil'Noran lost his previous job, after bringing ledger's problems to the owner's attention. Typical Meiyo! Laughing at him like he was stupid, and then firing him on the spot for dare 'insinuating' he had been stealing the money himself! Having been left destitute and now homeless, the young man signed up for a work program his Clan had just recently offered. The work was promised to be simple, with food and lodgings taken care of. He had thought he'd be able to maybe just relax for once with this job, but the shovel in his hand told him otherwise. Garret was marching along with about a hundred others, carriages hauling heavy loads of strange metal beams and planks galore. The former clerk wondered the why of it all as the head foreman yelled once again, his gravelly voice ringing out along the convoy.
"Convoy, Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalt!"
The sound of men stopped and cart creaking to a stop was heard as he'd turn about, signaling to the men as he raised his left arm, directing to the field along the dirt trail they had followed.
"Convoy, LEFT FACE! I want a camp set up here yesterday you maggots! Three rows of tents with my office at the header. FOREMEN! Establish our supplies as Needed! By the Name of the Allfather, get to work!"
Some groans would start before sharp glare in the direction sent them withering, the rows of Mil'Nor starting work on establishing a camp for the work crew. They had been sent out ahead of closer rail-building operations from New Raltera, starting work on furthering the line near one of the settlements along the way.
As it turned out, many settlements and villages had formed along the path of land based trade north to Zedonia. The route was only used by small trading caravans, as they had been established long ago during the Mil'Nors initial colonization years. The camp had stopped by one such town, Abl'nah, as it was called. The sun had already reached midday by the time the work crews stopped, and as Garrt went about trying to make himself useful within his own crew, he'd spotted smaller figures leaning out from a tree a ways away. Three Mil'Nor children had heard the commotion, their clothes more like wool sheets then proper clothes. Garret knew things could be bad in some of the outskirts, but to see it first hand was new to the man. He had spent nearly his whole life in the Capital, and the fact these people seemed to subsist in such impoverishment only saddened him.
Emotion would have little time in his mind however, as one of the foremen started yelling at the former clerk.
"MINZ! Don't think your clan will save you here boy! You work down here with us Gruvar, I expect you to work those hands to pampered little bones, you hear boy?!"
A silent nod was given in response as he resumed his work to help unload the lumber needed. Gruvar. If there ever was a such a clan that needed to learn to shut up, it was Gruvar. Sure, the Allfather expected one to give more then he took from his people, but it never seemed to work out that way....
Garret shook his head, trying to bring his focus back to the present. He needed to keep this job, if for nothing else so as to not stave. Screw it if things were unfair, it was better then begging in the streets.
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Post by Kira on Aug 13, 2022 21:30:46 GMT -5
How long had it been now? Three weeks, four?
Garret shook his head, having been resting at the campfire with his shiftmates. The days had gone by in both a blur and in agonizing tedium, with the railwork as he now understood it having been going slightly behind schedule. He had seen some Ganglank, Humans to be precise, talking with the Head Foreman at times and occasionally stopping to talk to the foreman who headed his shift. "Why were 'they' needed here?" He knew this thing they were building was to carry a 'train', but Garret didn't even know what that was. As far as the rumors had gone, it was some giant steel beast tamed by the ganglank...or maybe built? It was difficult to tell with how wild stories could be.
Across from the fire and seated on a crate, one of Garret's shiftmates noticed the man lost in thought.
"Hey, Bookie, whatcha thinking about?"
The Mil'Noran offered Garret a smile along with his question. Between the four of them seated, they had all gotten along decently well, despite being from different clans. Garret however would only sigh in response as he looked up at Tiller.
"Just thinking, Bricker. Don't worry about me"
Tiller crossed his arms, giving a glare at Garret as he did so.
"You said that twenty minutes ago, kid, and you still have that look on your face. So you can either spit it out here with your bunkies, or you can take that sad look and go to sleep. You know you'll need it once we start packing camp again for the next move"
Garret shook his head "Yeah, well you'd probably be best taking your own advice, old timer. It's not like you are in better shape then the rest of us." He was right about this, as Tiller was the eldest of the group at forty three. Normally he would have been sent to less intensive work, but due to the fact the man was both in peak condition for his age and willing to work, he'd been signed on like any other person. The fact he was of Clan Gruvar also lent a little favor, as the Clan was well known for their working spirit.
"Maybe so, kiddo...but you and I both know that's not how things work. Besides, because I'm older I know how to better work under less sleep."
"Can you two stop the nightly back and forth already? It's getting annoying"
Seated to the left of Garret in a proper chair was Romar, of Clan Meiyo. The man had been busy touching up his claws, eyeing both for a moment before returning to his 'grooming'.
"The work is bad enough but if I keep having to hear you two do this everyday, one of you is going to be seeing the Allfather a bit faster I swear."
"Right, and you really think your noodly arms will mean anything to me lad? I've taught babies beefier then you about how to fight for Falgyr's sake. The Nightmother might even take pity on you and let you die upon a blade instead of the pale death you'll have earned."
Where before he had seemed clam, Tiller's tone sounded sincere in the statement, his own irritation showing as a fourth voice rung out within the group.
"Guys guys, listen. Killing each other isn't going to solve anything. and it certainly isn't going to get me paid." Bringing the quartet to a close was Illian, of Clan Tolvaj like Garret.
"Do you know how much they'll dump on me if you three start taking your issues out on each other? I'll never be able to pay back my debts at that rate...unless they give me your pay...yeah on second thought go at it"
The man continued to sorting the cards he had in hand, the other three glaring at the fourth before silently agreeing that yes, if there was someone to get rid of, it would be Illian.
Turning back to their own tasks, Tiller his drinking, Romar his claw sharpening and Garret his travels in thought, the former clerk was again left to question the matters at hand. He could not deny the curiosity of seeing what these 'Trains' looked like, but again he wondered the why of it all. They had already built the line through a few villages and towns, small stations being connected along the line as they passed. "Just how fast were these tr-"
The mental question was stalled as Garret felt the earth tremble, and a strange but continuous sound echoing in the distance as it grew louder and louder. Rising to his feet, the Mil'Noran looked over at his fellows, the others also noticing the disturbance as some cries of confusion and panic erupted around the camp. Foremen would start yelling at workers to quiet, while the Head Foreman exited his tent along with a few Ganglank in tow. The man was making his way to where they had finished the railline for the day, a bright light shimmering in the darkness coming from the distance of the already built line.
"COMPANY, CLEAR THE LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINE!" I DON'T WANT ANY BODY BAGS TODAY, YOU HEAR"
His gravelly tone echoed out across the camp, most falling in line as the shimmering in the distance finally got close enough for Garret to see. It was...It was a train! It had to be, judging from how it moved on the tracks, brakes lines starting to slow it down along with it's cars of cargo. Severl of them were filled to the brim with replacement supplies of the rail, with a few boxcars at the end. Once it came to a stop, Garret could see how packed the passenger cars were, Mil'Nor practically spilling out as the Head Foreman spoke again.
"Listen up you maggots! This here is what we are building this line for! Your Chief's see this beauty as the way forward for us, and by Falgyr you are going to achieve the goal within the timeframe we have. Those of you I've spoken with, gather your things and board the last cars. To the rest of you! Welcome your new brothers and sisters, you'll need to get well acquainted as we keep up work these next two months!"
Another two months. Garret was unsure of how things would go now....but if that thing could go that fast so easily, they could probably cover the same distance they did on foot in just a day. He could just imagine the possibilities of such a device if they set lines all over the place...maybe the Ganglank did have some good things to share.
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Post by Kira on Sept 4, 2022 10:52:23 GMT -5
Scene: Outskirts of the Town of Houton, last stop on the New Raltera-Fuar railway in Mil'Nor. Fessera 4th, 1931
The Drunken Rat Tavern was an older place of debauchery and good eats within the Town of Houton. Standing as locale for those passing through or looking for work, one could find many from all around within it's wooden halls. For Garret however, the place served well as a place to rest his head after being discharged from his work contract. A warm bowl of slop infront of him with a pint of what passed as booze in hand, the Mil'Nor considered the past few months. Work for Great Western had proved to pay decently, although he wouldn't be signing up again when he heard talk about more rail lines being developed. He needed something stable, and working all day for some foreign ganglank wasn't exactly the most appealing of ideas.
Garret's thoughts were thrown to the wind as Tiller made his way over, his own mug in hand as he sat opposite of the younger man.
"Still thinking about your pay, huh? You look like an Elder with that look on your face, lad"
Garret looked up, shaking his head as he dismissed the others words with a wave.
"Maybe. Not going to blow it on cheap booze and cheaper woman like Romar." He said. "but it's not like I have enough for much either. This'll last me a few months at least"
"Aye, and when that runs out, what are ya plannin to do lad? Man like you aught to be spendin his days finding some lass along with a job to support his family. My suggestion? Join up with the warbands. That'll give you some time to figure out the 'what' of what you'll be doing for yourself" Tiller rose his glass, giving a small cheer with the mug before taking a long draught. He'd spit something out after, a mild look of disgust on his face. "Damn toads."
As for the other, he'd have rolled his eyes at the elder's suggestion.
"You can't be serious. Put myself at the whims of some old blueblood coots who can't even take care of things themselves? Next you'll be saying I should pray to the Allfather every night so he can fix my problems" His tone carrying a heavy amount of dismissal, leading Tiller to shrug in response.
"And? The Clans haven't done anything in the past sixty years lad. Tolvaj has seen us through these times, and they've just recently started asking for fresh volunteers. If nothing else, you can use it to build something proper for yourself lad. Falgyr knows you haven't been able to do the same with these temp jobs"
The younger man glared at the elder, mulling over his words as he took his own draught of the booze. He nearly gagged by the end of it, the taste of the vile drink permeating Garret's mouth even as he tried to formulate words once more.
"I'll look into it, but don't expect this to be a yes, old man."
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Post by Kira on Nov 23, 2022 17:02:37 GMT -5
Garret hummed to himself as he marched alongside his comrades in arms. War had come to Valdera, with conscripted soldiers being sent to immediately resupply the units near Harrlowsburrow. Having been already found suited fit for his work on the rail lines , the young man had been the first to to be drafted. He'd been assigned to an infantry unit within Commodore Grant's command, those alongside him having been veterans from the first battle.
On his right stood a shorter, scrambled egg colored Mil'Nor. Calling himself 'Baxter the Magnificent", the man was nothing more then an average class clown. He had pulled as many pranks as possible on the other men, having just graduated from his homeschooling. Son of a profitable fish merchant from Clan Meyio, life had been nothing more then a party for the young man. Poking Garret's side, he'd speak in a nasal voice.
"First Private Minz, can you tell me *why* you can't seem to hit straight, be it with a gun or a date?" While his words struck as harsh, Garret shook his head and ribbed Baxter's side. "Maybe if I wasn't always covering your ass during what they called 'training', I'd had have time for the shooting range like I was supposed to."
A grunt of annoyance was heard from the left of Garret, a much more well equipped soldier breaking his silence.
"Quiet. No banter in the ranks." The Mil'Nor stood as a first officer, and the two were quick to obey as a result. "I'm just pulling your leg, ay? I don't plan on letting some stupid ganglank make a fool from either of us" The smaller man rose his hand thumbs up, Garret rolling his eyes before speaking in turn.
"I'll watch your back, and you mine. Just quit putting a fish in my cot at night, ok?"
Baxter would only give half contained laugh before giving a nod, the two continuing their march alongside the the rest of the men.
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