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Joachim woke from terrible nightmares shouting for help and for Avatar to save his soul. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the dim light of the clinic. Lumbar stirred opening an eye then grunted before dozing back off. Joachim reached under the bunk and grabbed the liquor from the night before and took a great swig. Warmed and primed by his terrible dreams and assurances of his grace before Higher Being; Set out for the local woods to gather lumber and stones.
The swing of his hatchet was slow and excruciating but fueled by faith and indeed fear he pressed on dragging logs as much as carrying them back into town. Hours later he looked at the pile and deciding it would do... for now. He began to stake them into the ground propping up the wall, he then built a second row of stakes and using knobs of branch he managed to lay some cross ways forming a trough of sorts. It was this he would fill with stones and rocks tightly.
Trudging with his limp back out to the mine he climbed down into the hole with care. He tried a mighty swing of his pick and screamed, the sound echoing off the narrow passage of the mine. He groaned nearly fallen over from the pain in his back, the stitches nearly tearing out. He stayed this way for many moments before his resolve returned and with a much more tame swing managed to chip away and break the rocks. Using his apron as a sack he managed to slowly but surely make piles of usable stone.
He was no engineer or architect but he knew mortar was required when settings stones. He began crushing the smaller rocks to a powder like substance and using mud that had been churned up in the previous nights battle mixed it into a rudimentary mortar. He slopped in a base of the stuff inside his make shift trough and then stacked larger rocks in. Alternating in the mortar then more stones. Smaller stones were packed into the cracks until he had a fieldstone like wall neck high before him. It looked good to him.... felt safer at least!
He nodded then knelt there in the mud and remnants of rocks and mortar and said a small prayer, a blessing for his rudimentary construction, hopes that it might be imbued with strength and wrath against any undead who might touch it.
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