Dwarves in Doron Amar

[Steal Your Face]

Alison and Aearion return to the settlement from their survey south of Candlekeep. As they walk along the trail their quiet discussion is less about he collapsed Hold as it is about the burning ship and the dozens of bodies strewn on the shore and the task they had asked of the Lathandarites in Beregost to give them proper burial services.

On reaching the rise before the Inn, Aearion is taken aback by the bustle of activity on the hillsides. Where he had expected a quiet encampment he saw a sprawling mini-city of tents with all varieties of folk from all parts of the Coast dispensing food and aid, succoring the remnants of the Hold.

Even as a small smile curls his lips at the display of compassion playing out before him a nagging thought persists that things are likely to get much worse before they get better.

[Maverick 40]

Laisren arrives upon what can only be described as a desperate and bleak situation. He shakes his head remembering the sounds of battle from the Ironfaar Stronghold, when he and his fellow brethren had happened upon the scene earlier.

Why did they not permit us entrance to aid them, fools he thinks as healers rush by him to aid a dwarf left bloodied and broken on a stretcher all alone.

He then begins to imagine what incredible force might move these formidable dwarves from their home. Brushing through the crowd he begins searching for his friends.

[nezzerscape]

A graceful elf clad in golden plate, stops by each of the campfires now burning these woods. Without words she simply lays out rabbit, dear and the like, smiling kindly she bows with respect to the refugees before moving to the next.

Very few question the hospitality but those that do are simply met with the same kindly smile.

[Xanfyrst]

A rather tall half-elf, not one of the citizens of Doron Amar, is seen walking through the fringes of the elven community. He can be heard calmly scolding some of the healers for their lack of skill and ability in the art of healing, though those who heed his rather aggravating words, find themselves one bit wiser.

[Seronic]

The golden cloaked paladin spends little to no time leisuring about, instead constantly walking to the sides of the many wounded dwarves gathered. He examines the bandages, making sure that those who have been bleeding have new bandages applied once the wound has been cleansed. His facial expression is of seriousness yet shows care as he tends to the many wounded.

He occasionally looks over to Vanira with a warm smile, asking her here and there to bring a fresh bucket of water and cloth so he can continue cleaning wounds. When the water and cloth is brought to him, the paladin continues his work diligently.

[Angel Nightfire]

*A tired and worn out Toshiro returns to Doron Amar after spending the night bandaging dwarves, casting healing spells, directing druids to heal the most wounded in the rooms upstairs aswell as locating those dwarves downstairs that would not admit to being badly injured but needed healing and also he has been bringing food to the dwarves in the upper rooms. Early morning before dawn he gave his remaining healing kits to the druid Syclya and headed outside to bring word to the other rangers. Now he is dragging a wooden carriersled after him filled with the meat of a dire boar, the bones have been expertly removed, only the meat remains.*

"Here are some more food supplies" *he says to the ranger next to the other food supplies* "The rangers of the green enclave are out gathering more as we speak."

*heads back out again and returns another three times dragging the meat of another two dire boars and the last time a lot of fruit casting a few minor healing spells on any wounded dwarves he sees before heading back out. The final time he heads back to the grove for a well deserved rest.*

[VinnytheSquid]

A runner arrives in Doron Amar bringing word that wagons are approaching the elven city. Delphinn Veil soon arrives in the first of three very full wagons. There are few guards with the wagons, and both the guards and the wagon drivers look ragged and tired. Delphinn looks worse.

Delphinn stops the wagons near the largest group of refugees, and sets out to find "someone in charge." Upon finding someone to help him, "My apologies for taking so long to get here. It was a harder road than expected through the forest. There's food in the first wagon, clothes including boots and shoes as well as blankets in the second, and various healing supplies in the third. The medicine includes a keg or two of ale, not sure if that will help the situation or hurt it. Anyway, I also brought a few tents. Where do you want us to unload everything?"

After instructing his men to unload the various goods, Delphinn returns to the helpful individual, "We need to return to Nashkel right away. I'd like to talk to Rhys or another councillor before I go... about aid. Are any of them about?"

[Steal Your Face]

The rangers at the bridge fetch Aearion and he scampers down to meet Delphin, looking at the wagons and the narrow bridge with a wry smile. "It's probably best if you unload them right there, I'll have the rangers and those Dwarves that are able come and carry things in. Your aid is most appreciated.

"As for speaking with someone in charge, perhaps I can help?"

[Allyn]

*Calen Lasgallen is seen among the druids of the Enclave as they help the refugee dwarves in any way they can. He notes the despondent faces, hollow stares, and the general sadness at the loss of so much that the dwarves exhibit. He wonders what may happen next.*

[Maverick 40]

Laisren spends the day combing the sea of Dwarven survivors. As he does, he witnesses several druids and foreign rangers entering the make shift camp, paying them little heed as he moves on.

He finds some old dwarven allies and friends, he offers them a flask of Moonshae whiskey and takes a deep drink with them, but there is not much conversation to be had. There is simply too much to behold. He finally spies an elven woman in the distance, her green and gold mail gleaning as a beacon of hope in this sea of war's misery. He wants to smile, for her sight may be the only that would bring him comfort this day, but then he hears a commotion upon the road leading to Doron.

He quickly moves to the shadows, casting a spell to remain permanently unseen. Moving silently thought the brush he first spies some human scouts searching their way aimlessly through the wood. His look turns to a glare, as a caravan of wagons come into plain view nearly a hundred yards from Doron.

Are they Zhentarim come to take advantage these people's weakness, his people's weakness. "I have seen this play before", he whispered to himself. Though before his dread fear comes to pass he sees another elf, one whom commands a company of rangers beginning to intercede.

He is too far to hear the conversation, but can see the caravan will pass no further. He is far from relieved and immediately moves to inspect the wagons from the shadows using every scrying spell taught to him by his mentor.

Gods save their souls if they should bring harm to this place, he promises to himself.

[blackdove]

As more help arrives, althea begins to shift to helping in other ares , such as helping to cook and serve. she still aids theother workers in nursing though. She seek out vanaria, and asks if she can practice using liliths muffin recipe that uses blue berries.
We need to remember there's still some pleasure in life.She says trying to argue her small minor cause.seeingall these people who came to help, I have hope for the people of this land than I did.Lets reward them by reminding them of pleasures , like this recipe?

[VinnytheSquid]

Delphinn gives Aearion a weary, but friendly grin. "Well met again, Aearion. It's unfortunate that we see each other again under these circumstances. If you have the ear of the Councillors, I'm happy to talk to you."

Delphinn glances back to the wagons as his own men, dwarves, and elves begin to unload them. Turning back to Aearion, "I can't stay Aearion. I have duties elsewhere. A liason of the Nashkel Trade Emporium, Jon Argentum, should be arriving soon. In fact, I'm surprised I haven't seen him here already. Although amongst all of these people..." His voice trails off and he surveys the group again.

"Anyway, if Doron Amar needs anything, and I mean anything, tell Jon and he'll send word to Nashkel. I'll do my best to send it here, and quick. If Jon Argentum doesn't make himself known to you in the next day or so, or performs poorly in the eyes of Doron Amar, then pick your own man to be liason. They can pass word to me. I'm also going to seek an audience with the Mayor of Nashkel. The Ironfaar helped rebuild our town. The least we can do is repay their aid with our own help in their hour of need."

Delphinn pauses, and looks around again before returning his attention to Aearion. "Do the dwarves have a leader?"

[b00seven]

*letter arrives to Doron Amar via carrier pigeon. Two letters with similar text arrive, one scribed in Elven, the other in Dwarven.*

Honored denizens of Doron Amar,

Radiant elves and by their grace and charity stalwart dwarves. My heart is heavy as I travel the Eastern Realms and receive word of the tragedy befallen the dwarves upon the sword coast. My warmest regards to Master Rhys of the Arcane Academy, and the kindness he has shown me and the wisdom of his council in my past visits to the elves domain. Thought I am far from thee, my thoughts and sympathies drift to your troubles in these last few days of sorrow, and I wish to offer what knowledge and aid I may, though a great distance lay between us.

As Doron Amar has offered sanctuary to the dwarves, I have concern for the health and well being of all within its wooded confines. Thought I know there are great healers among the elven, and great fortitude among the dwarven, I offer knowledge which may stem the ravages of disease and pestilence given the certain strain that the dwarven presence will have upon the resources of Doron Amar.

Firstly, the wounded must be separated, quarantined from those of health and without injury. Should any wounds become infected, further quarantine those from the rest, to limit the ravages of pestilence upon the camps.

Flesh that has been rended must be mended ... (what follows is a description of how to clean and suture wounds).

Where the water of life pours from the body, closure can be achieved through a cleansing by fire... (instruction on how to cauterize wounds).

Where fever is pitch, it can be quelled by various offerings of the wild (notes on what plants in the area can be used for various poultices and alchemical curatives).

Where the fluids of the body are out of balance, they must be set to equilibrium... (detailed techniques for bloodletting, studious techniques in the application of leeches, cleansing the body of mucus and various types of bile).

...(and so on and so forth...).

I have instructed through missives to Candlekeep that the nurses provide my works on such matters as dwarven physiology, diet, and temperment, to be transcribed and sent to Doron Amar. I can only hope that these small boons can aid the enclave in attending to the care of their dwarven guests, and minimize the strain on the settlement of their presence. I shall try to provide further aid upon my return from the Eastern lands, and hope that I find the land in less dire circumstances.

May Oghma's wisdom guide the days and nights ahead.

[Angel Nightfire]

*Toshiro is seen walking among the druids inspecting each of them for a few moments allowing some to continue on and asking others, at times ordering them, to go get some rest while the ranger and some of the more rested druids take over where the exhausted druids left off.*

[Oarthias]

The moon elf stretches out on top of the pile of furs... a silly grin on her lips as the last of the dream slowly fades away as she wakes. Light laughter escapes from her lips at the memories of the dreams and reluctantly to continued to force herself to finish waking. The smell of the woods and ... a scoundrel close by.... Her eyes fly open in a panic hoping to the gods she didn't...

A sigh of relief comes as she finds her clothing still on, though a puzzled and soft expression forms as she notes the cloak and the breakfast. A slow shake of the elf's head, "The Scoundrel is at it still." Her eyes glance to her feet a moment, "Gods he can be charming when he wishes... but his dance leads down a much different path then our own." Again she shakes her head and her hair tumbles freely around her face. She pulls the cloak around her tighter and then helps herself to the delicious treats he left her.

Her blue eyes glance around the village as she eats. Taking in the already bustling activities of those coming and going to bring aid. The dwarves for the most part still moved around drowning in their ale and the shock of the recent events as it still sunk in. The mental wounds were going to take a lot longer to heal then any of the physical ones that they suffered. She tucked away a two of the special seeds that Torshio left her to save for later as she got to her feet.

Quickly the elf slipped on a change of clothes and quickly groomed her hair, pulling it back so it would stay out of her face as she worked. Appearances could be attended to more a bit later... now was not practical. She folded the cloak and laid it neatly onto of the pile of furs for the Scoundrel to claim at his convenience.

Spotting the carrier pigeon, the elf, moves quickly to relieve it of it's message before Tyr goes and makes a snack out of this one too. She jots down a quick reply of a formal thank you for the wisdom given and sends it back off with the pigeon to return to it's owner. The letter it brought she carries to the healers where it will be of more use then it would be in her own hands.

Her feet then were off carrying her back towards her tasks for the day. She listened to the reports of the rangers and to those of the Mathora'Tel'Quess that seeked her out. Instructions were given to continue as they were and to make sure they worked on their combat drills as well.

The ritual wasn't that far off, and she wasn't sure if it was a blessing or a curse that the dwarves would be here during that time. More to protect... the inn wasn't on blessed grounds like the temple was. Her expression she kept well guarded, but to those that knew her well, the worry betrayed her as it peered through her blue eyes.