Darius purses his lips for a moment in thought, and grabbing his cane, beckons Beloc and Shiaran over to speak. Sigurd and Irja invite themselves over as well, though Darius doesn't seem to mind.


Beloc, I don't think the dwarves are thinking so much on the long term. If their food sources are depleted, giving them a brief reprieve will only delay the inevitable. They need a better place to stay. Their resources are stretched thin, it's obvious they havent had a new generation born in quite sometime, and this sickness has gotten even the best of them down. And now we get the news broken to us that our only choice in a path is to carry on to Fildegarne, or turn back to the Fyreworms? I personally feel that we only delay their attrition and eventual deaths by trying to prop them up. If we're to head to Fildegarne anyway, why not form a caravan and get them out of here? We know contact was cut off from the capitol, but not why, and a little extra muscle couldn't hurt if there's a fight to be had"

Sigurd also interjects. "Darius has a point. The dwarves may be a hardy folk, and living under the mountain may have been something they could do at their peak, but they're hardly in any shape to carry on for now. Something else to consider, that I've heard no one speak of. If your capitol could be under attack, does that not mean that the Fildegarian government could collapse? It would spell bad news for for the people and the military"

Irja says "Yes, I belief Sigurd is right. De people need deir leaders. De average folk have no direction vith no vone in charge".

"I can't disagree with that. My suggestion of provisions would merely be a stop gap, but would certainly help the trek forward if that's what is decided we do."

"Ultimately, the decision is up to Sypher as he's leading this expedition, but that doesn't change my own opinions on the matter".

Beloc looks at Shiaran and then to Darius. "You know, Sypher will never leave these people here to die. Not with so many in need."

"Neither will I."  Shiaran smiles, but her face also looks fierce and determined.

She turns to Darius. "Can you teach me any food spells?  Any way we can conjure a significant amount to feed them?"

Darius taps his chin, thinking. "I don't believe I know any, honestly. That's more of a cleric thing. Beloc here would probably be the only real source of food conjuring we have".

"Actually interjects Irja, "I belief I can be of some service here". She turns her attention to Thakous. "Please, show me vhere de nearest dining hall or inn is. I vill begin my conjurings dere".

"O' coorse lassy, follow me". The pair set off down the street a ways and turn in to the building next door to where Sypher and Rebort are located.

Shiaran follows, curious.

Inside the building is an inn of sorts. It's more of a common area, set up with tables and stools of dwarven height. There are no back rooms that anyone can see, as the fortress would likely not get many visitors, if ever. But there is a cold and burned out hearth, as well as a cooking area complete with a bar.

Irja steps over to the main table, and pulls out a small headband, laced with feathers and beads. "Dis vill take me around ten minutes du complete". Donning the headdress, she begins to sway gently back and fourth, while chanting.

"Jag ringer på min far, sin far och sin fars far. Jag sträcker ut till dig och ber dig ge mig denna välsignelse. Jag ber om mat och vatten för att mata ett stort antal människor. Hör mitt samtal, så att jag får hedra mitt folk".

The chant seems repeat around three times per minute, with tiny flecks of some kind of energy gathering around the table.

As Shiaran, the dwarf, and Irja are entering the aforementioned space, Rebort steps out just missing them.

The warforged looks around, expecting to find the others, but only finds Beloc instead still taking a tally of the dwarves resources. He makes his way over to the elf to get his attention. Beloc glances up at R.E.B.O.R.T. waiting for a report.

"I have news from Sypher." Having his full attention now, Beloc sets the quill down. "The treatment appears to be effective, but the sickness is still contagious. Only myself and Sypher are permitted to interact with them. They are to remain quarantined until further notice. I must inform the king as well. Is he near by?"

Beloc nods appreciatively. "That is great news. I'll inform the others as soon as they return. I last saw king Thadrumir walking toward the barracks with some of the others. You'll likely find him in there."

Within the dining hall, Shiaran watches Irja closely attempting to glean what information she can from the ceremony.  She takes out a small scroll the size of her hand and a piece of thin grey chalk encased in protective wood.  The wood looks whittled down some.

When Irja finishes, Shiaran barrages her with questions.

"So, what is the source of this spell?  Do you require any consumable components or a focus?  What did those words mean?  Are they just to help you concentrate or are they necessary for the spell to work?  Is there an arcane aspect to this or is it divine?  What is the food like?  Tasty or bland?  Is it very nourishing or enough to get by in a pinch?  Sorry for all the questions, but I might be able to replicate this through magic.  Then we could take shifts until we need to leave and even on the road."  She scans her parchment and taps her chin with the wood stylus.

Irja raises an eyebrow to the sudden onslaught of questions, but sensing a kindred spirit in the arcane and beyond, does her best to answer the questions as they flow.

"I do not know what de source is. No, notting is given in sacrifice. De vords vhere a sort of prayer to de ancestors, do it vhas not truly a prayer as I vould offer my gods. I belief it to be divine, dough I'm not entirely sure. De food, is unfortunately bland mostly. Dough it does fill up a belly vith ease, and vithout complaint. And of course, is no problems answering you. Dat is vhat a shaman does. She teaches, and she learns, all in de same".

"Thanks!  I'm going to go over here."  She looks at all the food and twists her lips to the side, pursed in thought.  "Waaaay over here.  I think I might know a way to do this, but I need to practice and I don't want to ruin anyone's appetite when I mess up.  Wanna watch?  Maybe you'll catch something I miss if the spell goes bad."

She finds a spot on the far side of the mess hall with an empty table.  "I'm going to start small, nothing so grand as your feast.  Then I'll build from there."  She takes out a small piece of dried bread, little more than a bite and places it on the table.

"Apó ta psíchoula méchri ta psomiá,
gia na tréfontai kai na tréfontai,
Sympliróste to trapézi mou,
óste na evdokimíso."

The small bite of bread rises and begins to steam.  A moment later, there is a small loaf of bread sitting on the table instead.  Shiaran claps her hands together and beams at Irja.  "Wanna try it?"  She breaks it in half, leaving both women about three bites worth, and hands one part over to the shaman.

Irja looks at the loaf, and then back at Shiaran. She hesitantly takes a small piece, and bites in to it. Her eyes light up as she chews. "Dis is very goot Shiaran. I am beyont impressed. De fact you could pick dat up after seeing it vone time is amazing".

R.E.B.O.R.T. takes his leave and begins wandering back toward the barracks looking for Thadrumir.

Shiaran grins sardonically.  "When you learn by sneaking into wizard towers and sweet talking the apprentices into letting you get a peek at their books, you learn to learn spells pretty fast."  Then she giggles at the memory.

Irja muses at Shiaran's recollections. "All you haf to de is gif dem even de smallest shred of hope, and dey are as clay in a potters hands".

As Rebort enters the barracks, he's greeted with the sight of Irja, Thakous, Thadrumir, and Shiaran, all milling about a large spread of food across several tables. Thakous has managed to get several "logs" lit on the fireplace. Upon closer inspection, they're found to not be logs at all, but planks and slivers of some giant mushroom species that have been dried out. While Rebort's sense of smell isn't quite that of a human or dwarf's, he can still detect a sweet and smokey aroma coming from the lit fungi. It is overall pleasant, and the warm light starting to emanate from the hearth is giving the room a very cozy atmosphere.

King Thadrumir on the other hand struggles with a large tap. He has a hammer in hand, but can't quite manage the finesse needed to tap a large barrel of some brand of dwarven stout over on the side of the room. While up a walking fine, it is apparent to Rebort that the king is still weak from his illness.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:05, Mon 12 Mar 2018.

R.E.B.O.R.T. looks to a familiar face to deflect from the kings weakened state. "King Thadrumir, I have news, but I would like to speak to you in private first.  Shiaran, can you bring the king some refreshment while I debrief him?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:05, Mon 12 Mar 2018.

Thadrumir nods, and steps off to the side with Rebort, leaving the work of tapping the keg for later.

Shiaran quickly prepares a plate and drink and brings them over to the king.  "Here you go.  Can I get you anything else?"

R.E.B.O.R.T. speaks with the King, but it seems like idle chat until Shiaran arrives with the food and drink. As she sets it down, he delivers the news. "Sypher's task was a success, but it will take time for those that were sick to be well enough for visitors. He instructed that only Sypher and myself attend to them for the immediate future, for fear of reinfection. He hopes that you understand, that for the time being, I will deliver periodic reports on the patients condition."

Thadrumir listens intently, and a warm smile spreads across his face. "This is excellent neuws. A dinnae ken howfur ah kin ever repay ye a'w"

Shiaran rolls her eyes and shakes her head.  "Knowing my brother he'll say something like," her voice drops into a soft, serious whispery kind of low tone.  "'It is not me you owe.  If you feel you must, then I prefer that you pay it forward.  In your case, to your people.'  Or something like that.  He'd also say that Iehovah is the one that did the work, which is actually true.  But if you really really feel like paying someone in gold, I won't say no."

She laughs, then looks at the king to see his reaction, only half joking about the gold.