Elf stew?

Old Forest Road

The night is dark and quiet, and ahead you can barely make out what appears to be a mass of jumbled trees across the road blocking your passage.

The late night is cool, and the road is sprouting below you in the spring night. The road ahead looks tough.

The thin stretch of exposed night sky overhead is dark and overcast.

[Thari(#31038)]

The big wall of tree-limbs is still there, blocking the roadway effectively and looming in the darkness. In fact, with so much greenery closing in on the dwarves it feels a bit like the dark wood is swallowing them-- dark shadow filled with staring red eyes.

It\'s in this sort of a state that Thari is lying upon a pallet on the ground, her cloak thrust off of her. She breathes quickly and rubs at the bandages covering her brow and her chest. There is sweat on her brow and she fidgets, eyes wide open and staring at the thin stretch of visible sky. Finally she starts pulling herself upright, gasping.

Thump. Thump. Mutter. Thump.

The slightly arrythmic tapping is getting louder, and the lopsided shape of a dwarf leaning on a branch-crutch looms against the stars. Broddur\'s leg has still not fully recovered from bear-induced crushing, which probably explains why he was not in the forefront of battle. Now, though, he balances a small pot of broth in his free hand, and has a cup tucked carefully under his chin. He stops by Thari and asks gruffly, \"Wantin\' some broth?\" The fact that the healer might not be in any condition to drink it doesn\'t seem to occur to him.

[Frarin(#31050)] Somewhere off to Thari\'s side there is the sound of crunching boots on the forest floor, and as she starts to rise, Frarin looms into view. He is hunched forward and wobbly, but manages to drop painfully to the ground, seating himself on a spare water pail. \"Don\'t move, will you?\" says the silversmith, his face haggard and his voice coarse. Frarin looks up at Broddur\'s approach, nodding to the limping Blue Mountain dwarf, but looking back to Thari at Broddur\'s offer of broth.

[Thari(#31038)]

\"Not hungry,\" says Thari in a gruff, annoyed voice, sitting up and bowing her head. \"No, yes, broth, please.\" She rubs at her face with her hands, dislodging her bandage on one side of her head. \"My skin is too tight. I can\'t lie down.\"

Broddur returns Frarin\'s nod, then drops the pot to earth with a smaller thump. A little of the broth splashes out toward Frarin\'s feet.

Broddur himself doesn\'t seem to notice - he is too busy struggling to lower himself to a seated position, his left leg held stiffly straight. That accomplished, he dips the cup in the broth, but then pauses, hand held out, short of actually giving it to Thari as he eyes her askance. \"If you\'re going to die, don\'t want to waste it.\"

[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin does not bother to move when the broth dashes out towards his feet, but when Broddur hesitates to hand Thari the bowl of broth, the silversmith pulls a face and waves his bandaged hand at Broddur. \"Oh give it to her. No dwarf dies of a good cut, leastwise Thari.\" Softer, he adds to Thari, \"Come on, stop rubbing and have some broth.\"

[Thari(#31038)]

Thari pulls her hands away from her face and reaches for it. \"You shouldn\'t be saying things like that in front of my husband,\" she scolds Broddur in a voice that is both intense and vague at once. \"You might worry him. Terrible lack of tact. I wonder if that blade was poisoned,\" she adds abruptly while bringing the cup to herself with unsteady hands. \"Doesn\'t matter. Never heard of a dwarf dying of poison.\"

Broddur raises one bushy eyebrow in Frarin\'s direction. \"You sure? You don\'t look too good yourself.\" Still, he grudgingly pushes the cup toward Thari. \"There you go, then, if you\'re sure you won\'t die. Hope you don\'t expect me to play nursemaid too. Uh, it\'s hot,\" he adds belatedly.

\"And you have my commiserations,\" he tosses back to Frarin. \"Women are more trouble than their worth in gold, if you ask me.\"

[Frarin(#31050)] \"Nay, I am fine enough,\" Frarin answers Broddur, brushing off the Blue Mountain dwarf\'s query with a wave of his hand. This of course brings a grimace, but nevermind that. \"Nonsense,\" Frarin says in response to the idea of poison, wrapping his bandaged hand about Thari\'s shoulders as she shakily brings the broth to herself. \"If it had been poisoned, we would know it by now. It\'s been three days and you\'re already scolding again.\" To Broddur, Frarin grins weakly. \"They are well accepted, I thank you.\"

[Thari(#31038)]

Thari sips at the cup. \"Ooh it\'s hot,\" she says, a moment after Broddur already warned her that it was, indeed, hot. Her own fever was slower to come on than some and she now feels like a furnace herself.

She narrows her bleary eyes and looks between Frarin and the dwarf from the rest. \"I am worth my weight in gold,\" she grumbles. \"I came with a good dowry and I might give him a son someday. He\'s a load of trouble himself, you know.\"

To Frarin, Broddur snorts. \"Did you want some too? There\'s only one cup.\" Does he expect the silversmith to simply drink from the steaming pot?

\"Won\'t give anyone anything if you keep getting carved up,\" he tells Thari sourly. \"Women should stay at home, out of the way.\" Whether he\'s voiced this opinion in front of Fas and her ilk is debatable .. Thari, on the other hand, is a Captive Audience.

[Frarin(#31050)] \"No, I\'m fine,\" Frarin repeats to the offer of broth. \"I have just eaten myself.\" He lifts his brows at Broddur\'s blunt opinion and actually manages a haggard hint of a smile. \"You should be wary, cousin. Speak such an opinion to Thari when she has not nearly been gutted.\"

[Thari(#31038)]

\"You\'re absolutely right,\" Thari responds, hunched over and leaning a little into Frarin, who is even more injured than she. \"Women certainly ought to stay at home. Except me.\" She offers the cup to Frarin.

[.

[Frarin(#31050)] Frarin grins weakly again at Thari\'s reply. \"And I say nothing either way, so tis Thari\'s opinion that counts.\" He grimaces when Thari leans against him, but stifles a grunt so as to keep her from noticing. He presses his bandaged hand against his stomach instead, then pushes the proferred bowl of broth away. \"Drink it, I said I\'ve already eaten.\"

[Broddur(#23715)] It is the dark hour before dawn - though already the sky is paling, so that the steam rising from Broddur\'s pot forms a little trail silhouetted against the tangled mass of brambles and thorns that still blocks the road.

Broddur watches the interplay between the more injured pair without comment, then presses Thari, \"Oh? What makes you so different from any other Dwarf-lass, eh? Apart from lack of good sense ...\" He frowns at the healer, just as though /he/ hadn\'t been in equally poor shape a few weeks earlier.

[Thari(#31038)]

\"Well that\'s easy,\" Thari answers Broddur frankly. \"I\'m very rich.\"

Thari\'s eyes narrow as she studies Frarin. She straightens. \"Let me have a look at you.\"

[Frarin(#31050)] \"And very insistant. Because she is very rich.\" Frarin lifts a brow at Thari and though he barely smiles, his coarse voice does hint of humour and teasing. But as for Thari\'s next insistence, she does not get her way this time. \"Later,\" he says, slowly heaving himself to his feet with the support of his war hammer. \"When you are recovered some more. For now, sleep.\" And with that he hobbles away, off to do something or other, or perhaps simply to avoid Thari\'s prying at his wounds from thw battle.

[Creban(#22423)] Binol, the young cook on this adventure, comes out of one of the tents, with a fresh hot pot of water with cooked vegetables. He looked somewhat irritated, his beard braided and tucked into his shirt. He eyes the pot that was sitting there by the fire, and titched \"Taking it away half done! You can\'t run a dwarf on just water!\" Humming a little, he spoons the vegetables into the stew promptly.

[Broddur(#23715)] Broddur eyes Frarin\'s departure. \"Can\'t be hurt that bad if he\'s walking around, eh?\" he offers Thari ... her he regards speculatively. \"Rich, eh? Hmm. Got enough gold to placate the Elvenking? I don\'t see these wretched thorns disappearing yet, and we need to get old Bifur back. After that ...\" his seamed face breaks into a craggy smile, \"I reckon he might want to say thank-you for the Elve\'s hospitality.\"

Binol\'s interjection makes him start, and he turns round to view the younger Dwarf quizzically. \"It was only for the sick ones. No sense wasting the best vegetables on /them/, lad!\"

[Thari(#31038)]

\"No, dear...\" But Thari sounds tired now. \"My gold doesn\'t go to blasted elves.\" She sets Broddur\'s cup on the ground and curls up again on her pallet, wrapping her cloak over her body. She shivers a little but appears to be going to sleep.

[Creban(#22423)] Binol glances back sharply \"everyone eats the same here you know!\" he states \"All the vegetables get mixed together anyways.\"

[Creban(#22423)] Then the cook goes back to stirring the pot, deliberately so all the vegetables were mixed. He looks up at Thari, watching her out of one eye.

[Broddur(#23715)] Broddur snorts in Thari\'s direction and bends awkwardly to pick up the cup. \"Normally, I\'d agree. Except that right now we need to get out of this blasted wood ...\" The words trail off as he realizes that yes, the dwarf-women really is sleeping and it\'s not just an act.

To Binol he shakes his head stubbornly. \"Save the best for the strong, that\'s what I say. Like me.\" He spoils the statement by thumping the crutch lying on the ground beside him for emphasis, a reminder that he is hardly hale and hearty himself. \"Some of the wounded folk might die.\"

[Athran(#18002)]

A firey red, young head shoots up at the mention of \"eat\". Bathor rises from a dead sleep and walks over to the pot, blearly eyed but expectant. \"Did someone say we were eating? I\"m starved.\" He looks into the pot and blanches. \"Ugh, more vegetables?\"

[Creban(#22423)] \"There\'s some meat in there. But not much right now. \" binol levels an eye at Bathor \"Unless YOu want to go hunting out there.\" he points with the ladle off into the woods. \"I put more spices in it though to make it taste different at least.\"

[Broddur(#23715)] \"Spices?\" Broddur\'s cup-holding hand, which had been about to dip said vessel in the stew, halts. \"What d\'you want to go putting fancy stuff like that in for?\" he demands. \"You been hobnobbing with the Elves?\" No, there\'s no pleasing some folk.

\"Maybe you should try it first,\" he offers Bathor generously.

[Athran(#18002)]

Bathor looks into the dark woods and shuddrs. \"I\'ll take the vegetables.\" He gingerly dips his mug into the pot and pulls it out. Some soup dribbles off the cup and he licks it up, quickly cursing. \"At least its hot,\" he pants as he fans his mouth.

[Creban(#22423)] Binol sniffs \"Its either that or carrot water.\" he states \"Or go hungry, take your pick. I brought the spices with me.\" he notes simply.

[Broddur(#23715)] \"Well, that\'s something,\" Broddur concedes to Binol. Then he looks to Bathor. \"Well? What d\'you think? Is it tasty or not?\"

[Athran(#18002)]

Bathor takes a second sip. \"Well, it\'s definitely got more flavor to it.\" He smiles. \"Better than last time anyway.\" Glancing around the woods, he asks, \"So what would be our chances of finding something to add to our stew in this blasted forest? Maybe we could catch something along the path?\"

[Creban(#22423)] \"What, like an elf? I dont think they\'d taste very good.\" quips Binol as he spoons more out to others \"Maybe near the pathway, close enough to see.\"

[Broddur(#23715)] \"Saw a squirrel the other day,\" Broddur offers. \"It was black, though. Probably poisonous or something.\" He scowls at the thought, and then, actually bypassing the stew for now, mumbles, \"Back in a minute.\" He limps off into the woods, not very far, presumably on nature\'s errand.

[Athran(#18002)]

Bathor ponders that for a moment. He grins mischeviously. \"At least they\'d be tender.\" Noting the other comment, he mutters to himself. \"Probably their poisonous too though.\"

[Creban(#22423)] Snickering a little, Binol states \"Maybe. Though anything can be tender if you simmer it long enough.\" he notes as he stirrs, then offers more soup to Bathor.

[Athran(#18002)]

Bathor takes the cup gratefully. \"Growing dwarves need their food, eh?\" He chuckles. \"I do, anyway. Can\'t seem to get enough these days.\" He pats his belly. \"Hopefully I\'ll start filling out soon. Put on a couple more pounds, and there won\'t be a maiden in sight that can resist me.\" His eyes twinkle as he ponders.

[Creban(#22423)] \"Once I get some meat in the pot there\'ll be more meat on you then.\" promises Binol with a smile. Finally he takes a cup for himself, sitting down to slurp at it.