Vendrick no longer heard the noises. Whatever was causing them must have stopped, ran off, or the loud smash managed to mangle his eardrums. He walked a slow pace to reach his spear. He was tired after all of that shoveling. Once that he was in arms distance, he grabbed the spear. He quickly put the spear back onto its cloth holder placed his back. He brushed off the dust off of the wall with his thick metal gauntlets. It didn't clean very well, but Vendrick let out a quiet "I did good" grunt. He walked back to the holes, the crates, and his shovel. He continued to dig. As he dug more holes for the boxes, he heard something.

Footsteps? Yes. It was definitely someone running. Someone with armour. It was too heavy to not be armour. It got louder and louder. Whatever it was, it was moving towards Vendrick. He continued to shovel up the dirt. He did know one thing at this moment: His hearing wasn't too mangled.

The footsteps became very loud. He saw someone running quickly towards him. They were armoured with a strange set of sword and shield. He quickly grabbed one of the bloody crates, and placed it carefully in the hole. He turned to the runner, who was now in earshot of Vendrick's yelling. "Siwmae!", he belted out. The word had a rather friendly tone, mostly because of its meaning in Vendrick's native tongue.