“Alrightly! Wagon’s full! Get her moving!” so shouted a volunteer as they shut closed the back-end of a wagon…one stuffed full of carefully wrapped and placed charred corpses.
Without any delay, the driver giddy-uped as the wagon made off and away, only…for another one to immediately take its place…as the volunteer went right back to work; there was still…so much work…needing to be done.
It has been almost…two or so days since this operation began; they were still near and around the entrance areas of the inner-walls, having yet to progress deeper within.
Bodies…there were so many charred and despoiled bodies needing to be retrieved from here alone, most of which were…unidentifiable. The only true discernable characteristics were the…basics of their apparent sex and…their height—thus whether they had been either an adult, child, or...younger.
The bodies varied in delicacy and brittleness, with some being…hyper-cooked flesh, whereas others were…effectively hardened ash and bone minerals—having been cremated on the spot, essentially. But most required…careful handling, nonetheless, and many could only be collected as…charred skeletons or fragments.
Body retrieval was not the only task at hand, of course. Company soldiers—specifically sappers and others specialized in…constructive work—were in the process of clearing rubble and debris in order to make navigable paths and safer zones; likewise, many were hard at work…shoveling the toxic ash and dust into…these special wooden containers of sorts to be transported away—the Company not having any better ideas for handling this ash, seemingly.
Additionally, the past two days had also seen…these so-called ‘photographers’—specialists who utilized some fairly nascent and somewhat experimental Far Western ‘camera-stand’ of sorts—go around to flash, snap, and image the scenes around as best they could. Many volunteers and soldiers, in fact, sometimes had to stand still for dozens of minutes on end just to ‘pose’ for a ‘shot’. Minded, such was not authorized with the Company’s direct permission, but rather the independent and unilateral permission of the overseeing officer in charge, apparently.
Nominally, the volunteers’ own tasks were supposed to vary depending on their sex. Women were to be given more ‘tame’ roles—largely appertaining to body retrieval and wrapping, as well as other more ‘supportive’ roles—while men were to be given more ‘labor intensive’ roles.
However, given the utter severity of the circumstances at hand, ever the apparent pragmatists, the leading officers in charge of the volunteers…did not seem to bother with strictly maintaining such segregation; everyone found themselves equally thrown around and about wherever hands were needed most.
Ash and dust…there was so much of it. Truly, the ruins of Coastfield past the inner-walls…appeared more akin to a flat desert dune of toxic ash and fragments…intermixed with rubble and debris…than the ruins of a bombarded city. Almost every single structure had been thoroughly burned and eaten, especially anything with carbon-based foundations.
Coughing…there was quite a lot as they labored away. Even with the protections afforded, fine particles could still break through their facemask’s filtering, either being breathed in or potentially obstructing their breathing by getting stuck. The intensity of their work certainly did not help their breathing either, and the thick facemasks already made it uncomfortable to catch any breaths.
Despite the sounds of coughing, along with commands, instructions, and work-related discourses…it was dreadfully silent. Nobody was in the mood for any casual banter or conversating.
The foreigner, protective cloak covered in toxic ash and particles, was much the same as she worked away to clear this…pile of rubble and ash. Her mask-obscured eyes...were becoming somewhat irritated as she did so. Indeed, her masquerade half-mask was…perhaps not as tightly affixed to her face relative to those goggles as she had assumed; such she could tolerate, however.
Regardless, she had noticed something about this…pile of rubble and ash; once somewhat cleared, she inspected…and found…two…charred corpses buried; an adult female and…what seemed to have been…an infant. The infant…was wrapped and gripped tightly in the female’s arms…as if she had been shielding them from the ravenous fire—though, so thoroughly burnt…the infant was practically fused to the arms.
The foreigner sighed, raising her gloved hand as she stood up; “Over at here!” so she hailed in shout, “found two bodies! One woman and one baby! Badly burned and half-buried! Need to be dug and retrieved!”
Three other volunteers responded immediately and arrived; one began to shovel thoroughly while another cleared the heavier rubble, with the other…unfolding a large cloth wrapping onto the ground. “Thanks, we got it from here… now get going” one hastily said to the foreigner, who…simply acknowledged and departed off and away.
The foreigner’s present task was body finding; she was to find, mark, and shout whenever she found what appeared to be…or had been…human remains…so that those designated for body retrieval could…well, retrieve them. This division of labor allowed for…a balanced focus between finding bodies and actually…going through the tedious process of collecting them, apparently.
“Hey you! Fancy mask!” so suddenly shouted a volunteer with a pointing finger.
The foreigner paused and turned her attention, staring.
“Free hands, rightly right? I wouldn’t ask this of a lady, but…I could use them; need help with loading…” the volunteer said.
“I am a body finder…at this moment” the foreigner replied frankly.
“Yeah well…body finding is useless when they can’t be loaded…and my other demon-buggered himself off to the underworld, so I need the hands” the volunteer replied.
The foreigner sighed… fair point, albeit she was not…even going to bother trying to unravel what in the domain of all realities that volunteer meant to imply had happened to their…prior helper; it was clear this volunteer…needed help, either way. “Fine…it is understood, coming now” she acknowledged before promptly making way.
She helped as the two carefully loaded the piles of…collected wrapped humanoid bodies of all sizes and ages…onto the wagon, organizing them in the most space-efficient way that could be inferred.
“She’s full! Get her moving!” the volunteer shouted with exhausted breaths.
The wagon immediately drove off and away…the bodies’ destination most likely being…a mass-pit of a grave, from what she had heard, for…there was nowhere else to put such…unidentifiable corpses. More wrapped bodies were brought and complied…as a new empty wagon took the place of the former.
Thus would become the foreigner’s new given task as the day progressed ever-forward: she helped load the endless wrapped corpses onto the endless arriving wagons.
Indeed, thankless, arduous, and with hardly many breaks being afforded, besides that for specific needs, the Company having provided portable latrines of sorts—segregated by sex of course, in spite of the inefficiencies of doing such. Though, she had no need for such breaks or…for any breaks for that matter…besides that for water, and her waterskin was…becoming fairly empty.
Eventually, the sun finally began to set. Military drums echoing from the gates and trumpets from the air-balloons above all sounded the day’s end. Volunteers and soldiers stopped their labor, many sighing in relief, as they self-organized into their own respective columns…and began to make way.
Assembling at the entry gates, they entered through column by column, both sides of the open gate being covered by a thick dangling tarp or cloth-sheet of sorts.
Such was meant to allow the gates to remain open for the wagons and others…while denying any ash and dust from blowing through, the coverings themselves being fairly heavy and thick…thus only the strongest of winds could blow through—at least, nominally. This also allowed those going through to swipe themselves somewhat clean…before entering the outskirts.
The foreigner had to…perhaps give partial credit to these primitives for exercising…basic hazard precautions; but they were still…hardly strict enough; they lacked any proper standardized decontamination procedures…not just for the personnel, but also for the wagons going back and forth carrying the potentially toxic corpses that were to be buried into the terrestrial ecosystem.
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Regardless, the columns made their way through and back into the outskirts. Since the areas closest to the inner-walls had long been cleared of others, many of the buildings were repurposed as temporary operation stations, barracks, and volunteer quarters.
Of course, being the closest to the inner-walls and the fire-tide’s maximum extent, these building had taken a beating due to their proximity…and were still rather contaminated—but it was better than being outside and…especially better than being within the inner-walls.
Everyone was exhausted. Everyone remained silent. Not even the faintest gossip or whisper. The volunteers in the foreigner’s assigned quarters had their bland evening meal, which the foreigner skipped…for even if she wanted to eat, she would be unable to—food was not as simple as water. Afterwards, everyone promptly retreated to their beds, a few passing out almost instantly.
The foreigner laid in her provided bedding; it was stiff and rough, but…better than the floor…probably. Her ignited eyes stared up at the ceiling, still obscured by her masquerade for…she was not alone in this room of many beds. Yet none seemed to question, overtly at least, why she was wearing still her mask; in fact, some others were still wearing their own goggles and facemasks, being far more sensitive to the…contaminants around; so, such was not too unusual.
Suffice it to say, she already…could infer that ahead was going to be a very long…week, a very long and repetitive month. Yet…this day still felt as though it had just flown on by, nonetheless.
Coughing. So many coughed in their sleep, it was going to be a restless night for many.
Yet…they all remained committed. It was hard not to be after seeing what they had just seen; after all, who else…was going to do this morbid job…if not them? Never mind that their futures were now already condemned to being shorter; quitting now…would only make the condemnation…all for not.
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Cloudy. The sky was becoming…more cloudy as of late, signs that…troubled many. The last thing anyone wanted in this ashen sea was…rain. The morning fog and coastal precipitation was already enough to make this strange ash…stickier.
The volunteers labored away with their tools and hands, alongside now…work animals of sorts—largely an equine hybrid species called ‘mules’—to help with dragging and moving the heavier debris and objects. Rubble and debris were cleared and compiled into their own respective…organized piles, while bodies were…retrieved and wrapped—and there were…rather a plenty.
A once dense plaza and…festive site, such was where they were. A large and central one at that, one that was closer to the…former Count’s once grand palace; they were now deeper in the ruins of the inner-city.
Indeed, it was now well passed the midpoint of this month…already. Truly, everything had felt so slow and drawn out…yet paradoxically, everything…had sped on by so fast and swift, nonetheless. The repetitiveness of this labor and routine certainly did not help, but…most had become accustomed to such by now.
Since the beginning of this…operation, much progress had been made…yet many…including the foreigner herself...could not help but feel it was rushed and…incomplete.
Indeed, due to the sheer…mass of bodies that were concentrated near the entry gates, it had been taking them…quite the time to progress past that area; more time than the Company had the patience for.
The Company’s heads had ultimately forced the hands of the officers, resulting in volunteers and soldiers especially…being split off from the main bunch…in order to start clearing a path deeper into the inner-city in advance. This move ultimately resulted in their numbers in each respective area being stretched too thin…and only served to slow the operation down overall.
To make matters even more…annoying, the closer the ruins were to both the epicenter of that large detonation and originating point of that fire-tide—where it had burned the hottest and most violent—the more difficult and despoiled the ruins became.
So hot those nasty-red flames had burned at its initial originating point…that apparently even the dust, stone, and concrete of the streets, pavement, and already devastated buildings were disformed and melted. Thus, this made cleanup and retrieval progressively more hazardous in those locations due to the increasing presence of glass.
Likewise, the large detonation and its resulting shockwave…had devastated the inner-city well before that fire-tide…which made the debris and rubble needing to be cleared…more scattered, messy, and…in larger inconsistent chunks. Furthermore, any bodies that…still existed deeper in the ruins…were also scattered about—not concentrated in one large mass as was the case near the entry gates. Crushed by debris and collapsed buildings, scattered in fragments and pieces, buried in thick piles of…junk and rubble, et cetera.
All of this…of course, made the operation slower the deeper they progressed, which only made the Company more impatient.
Indeed, the Company was so very eager in wanting to secure their precious grand port and stations…as fast as possible. In fact, they had even detached most of the soldiers from the volunteers…just to make a rush to secure the coastal districts, a move…bolstered by the arrival of the Company’s own ships which provided extra hands and supplies.
This insistence to secure the coastal districts…was rather odd, to be frank, since the Company’s own balloons, which had already mapped the area before this operation even began, had reported…that there was nothing left to be rebuilt; everything had to be constructed anew.
Such…of course, could not happen…until basic infrastructure was reestablished in the inner-city, which could not happen until the ruins, corpses, and toxic ash were at least somewhat cleared…which—to reiterate—was a slow and arduous process, no thanks to the Company’s own inconsistent focusing.
To make such even more peculiar, the Company…was actively prohibiting local volunteers from entering those areas closest to the coast, citing ‘excessive hazardous conditions’, which…many seemed to find unconvincing…that the Company would apparently care for native volunteers more than their own.
Though regardless, despite all of this, progress had been made…and progress was still being made, day by day.
“Wagon’s full! Shew shew! Get going already!” so shouted and shewed a volunteer, the wagon promptly departing away down the cleared path…another one eventually taking its place.
“Gods’ sacred…what was this place? An outside day-church? Why so many kids this time?” another volunteer remarked, wrapping…the charred remains retrieved; “this deep in, you’d think they’d be ash…”
“Well, look at the bright star at the center, at least they won’t have to worry about being orphaned street urchins” so replied another…in rather the morbid humor, yet most could not help but chuckle and giggle. Such humor was becoming one of the few ways…the volunteers could keep themselves in sound enough mind to continue…this otherwise maddening work of horrifying sights.
By now, the volunteers were more desensitized indeed. No longer was there that dreadful silence. The sounds of pointless chatter, crude humor, and conversating bounced and echoed both close and afar.
The foreigner…having nothing better to do…tuned her ears and listened in to those nearby.
“Ach…my back, seriously…why don’t we have any mages yet? An earth mage would make this entire…everything so much easier!”
“Cause freelancers don’t do anything for free…and the Company’s as cheap as they come; like, why hire a mage…when you can have six hands do the same for free”
“In that case…why not use slaves for this heavy work!”
“Cause slaves with ashen lungs aren’t good to sell…and they like selling them more than using them; besides, we all know the types of slaves the Company likes to get from these lands…and labor slaves aren’t one of them…”
“Well, actually I heard that…the Company’s been finally sending out contracts and a few freelancers are on their way now”
“Gods’ sacred finally…hopefully they get here before my back breaks on me…”
Thus, went on the voices closest to her ears. Most of the time, such discourses were… utter nonsense; but sometimes they yielded…something interesting.
The foreigner…was busy clearing through a rather thick pile of ashen debris, which…seemed to be from a building that had collapsed before the fire-tide. Such…tended to be where most of the bodies deeper in the interior were usually found; there was…rather the smell coming from this one as well.
Clearing with both a shovel and her hands, eventually…a hand was revealed. Noticing, she immediately double-tripled her efforts, clearing through what she feasibly could…revealing half of the body. Burnt and cooked, but not…exactly charred; still somewhat fleshy and decomposing somewhat; the attire was…fused with the skin; visibly female.
This one…had been crushed by the collapsed building before…the fire-tide burned through, seemingly; the debris took the brunt of it…hence the body’s condition. Yet her hand began to evaluate the collar and neck area, as did her eyes, scanning for something…specific.
She sighed…nothing. She raised her hand up and high; “Over here! Found one! Woman! Crushed heavily! Burned badly but still with flesh! Rotting!” she shouted out.
Immediately, two retriever volunteers responded and arrived swiftly, taking her place.
“Gods’ sacred…this smells worse than overcooked rotting loaf… yeah, its crushed alright, we’ll need heavy hands for this…” a volunteer remarked; “Hey! Someone bring the donkey-horse! Quickly!”
“Thanks fancy mask… Nelia, right? We will finish this from here…but keep looking around here, looks like these parts got hit hard…” the other said.
The foreigner acknowledged and promptly departed away, continuing on with her finding and searching; not just for remains, minded, but also…those Guild receptionist amulets she had been…asked to collect. She has only managed to find…five so far.
Admittedly, as she had been told, those amulets were…stupidly resilient and were in…largely intact condition. Likewise, those amulets…had names and…words and phrases of significance to the owner engraved onto them. In many ways…those amulets were an extension of the Guild receptionists’ own identity and purpose. The foreigner…could see why the peer and the Guild…wanted them returned; indeed, she would have wanted the same…for her own.
Yet she could hardly find any at all. Too many bodies, too large of a search radius, and only one of her looking.
Though…truth be told…even if such was difficult to admit or truly comprehend deep down within, her eyes…were especially looking out for…one specific amulet…one denoting a specific type of receptionist…one with a specific first name; one her mind doubted she would ever be able to find.
Hmm…indeed, at this rate you won’t be the one finding it
And your time here is starting to run dry in kind
Greater interests have greater games needing to be played, after all
And, one could say, this has been dragging on for far too long
So…how about we speed things up and move this act along?