A lullaby, a heartwarming song, the adjective is apt. Bells' breath blows across the embers of the flickering dwarven life - gently, gently, blowing away the suffocating cold; gently, gently, circulating fresh new life. Colour and warmth start to blush the dwarf's skin, unfreezing wounds which puddle, then sheet, with blood and lymph.
Okto takes the fragile figure in his arms as Graendel unlocks the door to his spotless, almost surgically clean workshop.
"Oobok. Oobok." whispers the dwarf urgently as Graendel fetches a neatly stowed medical kit and brandy.
As bandages are applied as the dwarf, Hruna, tells her tale.
She and her brother Oobok were transporting the iron by dog sled from the dwarven valley beneath Kelvin's Cairn. A ferocious blizzard came upon them; they heard the dogs yelp and the chilling howl of a yeti. Hruna lept into the churning maelstrom of snow and blood, her axe in hand.
She awoke in the night, badly wounded and disoriented in the continuing blizzard. She tried to find her way towards her brother but found herself closer to the Maer than the dwarven valley. She doesn't remember much - the cold had numbed her memory as well as her body, but she must have crawled to Graendel's workshop.
Graendel pats Hruna's hand.
"H.. h.. hush lass. I'll find Oobok."
He shuffles towards a wall, where his snowshoes rest on hooks. He calls back to you in his soft dwarven voice.
"C... c... can you sit with Hruna while I'm gone?"
After some time, he arrives at the snowshoes, unhooks them, and they drop to the floor with a clatter. He stares at them helplessly before trying to lift his head toward Bells and whispering, somewhat embarrassed.
"C... c... could you put my snowshoes on, please? I find it difficult to bend down, you see?"
Graendel Granitefist