So.
 
 Myrana has a goat.
 
 That goat has lead her to Ylva -- who, in turn, has lead her outside of the city. Who, in turn, has lead her out of the town with her goat out to meet Old Man Stavers. Old Man Stavers, of course, is a druid that's been helping the resistance out in the last year. Thus, he is out in the forest, being a druid. Earlier today, he met another fellow outside the city. It is thusly so that when Ylva and Myrana arrive at Old Man Staver's cabin out in the woods, with its flourishing garden, is thusly visited.
 
 Right now, Stavers is talking to Mihari, the dwarfess. He has just set a cup of tea down in front of her. Not that she's probably going to be the tea drinking type. "So you," he says, "have come a long ways. Solmnus is not far from here -- the city is occupied, as you no doubt know."
 
Mihari stands before the man, her eyes peering at the tea on the table before her. She shakes her head some and sets a single finger on the cup to slide it back towards him. Her other hand rests on the head of her axe, while its wooden butt is propped on the floor. "Aye, that I've heard. Shadow Elf loving filth too, if my sources be right." Her voice is fairly quiet, if a bit gruff. "So why do ye be pulling me aside then? If ye know I've come far, ye likely know what sort of business I'm on."
 
 
Ylva hops along beside the goat. She likes the goat. It's all fuzzy and adorable! The ranger pats the goat every now and then. Meanwhile, the big wolf follows along at a distance. Ylva has made sure - insisting with some frequency - that the goat is not for eating. At least, not just yet. She gives Mihari an odd look. "What's wrong with shadow elves? Is it because they're dark?"

 
Myrana's knock at the cabin door comes a few seconds before it is gently pushed open-- and the sorceress, Ylva, and the goat appear framed against the green backdrop. "Coo-ee?"
 
The goat, in turn, really seems to like Ylva. In a goat-y, vaguely can-I-eat-you sort of way. She tries to nibble at her clothes, led along by the rope around her neck that leads to Myra's hand.

Old Man Stavers does indeed pause. He glances out the little window of his hut, about to answer Mihari when Ylva and Myrana arrive. He seems to recognize former's voice, though, and he breaks into a smile. He opens the door to let them both in. "Ah, it's good to see both of you. Friends, this is Mihari -- a dwarfess I met on the road. And indeed, I can imagine your business is serious, my dear."
 
 Old Man Stavers does indeed live up to his name. For one, he's old. His wisened face has seen many a sunrise, that's for sure, and if his tanned skin and weathered expression is any indication, he's spent most of it in the wild. His clothes bear the signs of wear and tear, that's for sure.
 
 "So, you hunt shadow elves, eh? Then you may well be in the right area. There's little in this land that Kinnevack and her forces don't have a hand in. I wouldn't be surprised if Kinnevack or some of her underlings have dealings with the ones you seek -- or maybe others who know them. I've heard tell of shadow elves under her command before. Rare that an ogress can command their ilk's loyalty. I'll get more tea." And the old man rises, knees cracking, once more to pour two more cups. One offered to Ylva and another to Myrana.
 
 
Ylva appears a little confused by the tea, but copies the actions of the others in accepting it. "Ow! It's hot!" She manages not to spill it after almost scalding herself. "I am Ylva. I'm not an elf," she says, introducing herself to Mihari. "That's Ulfr. He's not an elf, either." Ylva points at the large wolf sitting obediently a safe distance from the goat. "I know some shadow elves. Rin and Usha. They are nice people."

Mihari glances between the two, her expression curious, though she doesn't ask a question immediately. "My business with the Shadow Elf and their kin be my own." she says after a moment. Then she nods her head, following the old druid's introduction. "Aye, I be Mihari. Well met." And then her attention is back on Stavers. "Kinnevack?" she asks. "She be the one in charge of the city, then?"

 
"Thank you," Myrana says to the old man, accepting the tea a little tiredly. Traveling with bouncy Ylva has been wearing her a bit thin, and the goat's constant tugging and trying to eat her skirts hasn't helped much. "Ah-- pleased to meet you," she says politely to Mihari and Old Man Stavers, bowing her head and shoulders a bit. "Myrana Tarris, at y'service. Sorry to intrude, miss Mihari," she adds, perhaps a little meekly.
 
 
"It's quite all right. If Ylva brought you here I am sure she had a good reason," says Old Man Stavers, turning towards Mihari and giving her a big old grin. "That's true enough and I do understand. But, yes, Kinnevack is the Ogress in charge of the occupation of Sendor. Few see her -- you're more likely to have better luck chasing things down through her underlings, if that. Myrana and Ylva will be heading back to town when they're done here... you're welcome to accompany them." He gives them a nod. "I was hoping to see you again soon, Ylva, actually. So what has brought you two out here, hm?"
 
Ylva tries the tea again, more cautiously this time. "Hey, I have a question. I wonder about it a lot because it's strange. Why do you call Kinnevack an ogress? You don't call me a humaness! Is it something only for ogres?" She is distracted from the topic at hand.

 
Petunia bleats. There's a tearing sound. Myrana SWEARS. "Fragh!" She huffs. "Goat! Goat you should eat grass not cotton! It has been spun and woven and it is NOT FOR EATING!"
 
 Blee-e-eaat!

Mihari snorts softly and shakes her head. "I would imagine the same reason he calls me a dwarfess." she says. "A habit of speech, perhaps, old man?" she asks. Still, she nods to him afterwards. "I thank ye for the information. And if ye'll have me, perhaps I will walk with the two of ye a ways." Her eyes have drifted back to the pair by now, and she hefts her axe to sling it up onto her shoulder.
 
Myrana grumbles darkly. "Old man, we... need some more of these... charming creatures." She seems to be choosing her words very. Carefully. It does not do to call even the most badly behaved animals a hairy little gods-forsaken bastard in front of a druid. Oh no. She clears her throat. "For th' babies, yeah? Milk and so on." Looking at Mihari, Myrana nods, letting out a breath. Relaaax. "We'd be glad to have you, miss. Not much food with the resistance though, so y'might want to take a day or so to forage and stock up a little while we're out here. We'll be doing the same."

"Excellent. It sounds a if you can help each other and.. that is a goat." Old Man Stavers pauses for a moment. He lets out a sigh. He gets to his feet, after having sat down again and he pinmches the bridge of his nose. "I might be able to help take care of them. They're..goats, though." There's a sigh. "Even if goat cheese is useful for food." He rubs his chin for a moment, all bristly as his beard is, and then explains to Myrana, "So you need more of them *and* space to care for them, yes. I see the problem. They're goats." This is, indeed, a problem as far as he's concerned. He reaches out to pat th goat on the head and it, indeed, suddenly calms itself by his touch. Apparently, there;'s more the old man than meets the eye, after all. Then again, the other two do know him as someone who was said to be a druid. "Actually, I have a bit of a problem I could use help with. The supplies I'm getting ready to harvest," he continues, "some of them are useful as food. But they can be converted to medicinal use as well. So I'm wondering which you feel is more important at this point." He eyes them.
 
 
"That is a goat!" Ylva agrees confidently. "Food is good and medicine is good, too. We have lots of people with magic healing, so food is probably best. I am very hungry! Ulfr is, too. It is very hard to stop him from eating the goat."

 

Myrana licks dry lips. Her stomach clenches, and much to her distress, growls audibly at the mention of food. Closing her eyes for a moment, she recollects her composure a little. "I'm not sure I agree..." She murmurs. "There are not enough of us to heal disease, or cure poisons..." There's a flicker in her face-- Myrana wants /food/. The thought of it is enough to make her sweat a little. "...But the enemy is eating. And we can focus our efforts on taking the food from them. Their medicines are likely much more difficult to attain, if they have any."

"Problem is it's one or the other," says Stavers, grunting, "At least for now. Maybe if I can get more land to work with -safely-, I can grow more and quickly." He rubs his bead again, stroking it. "But I just need to know. For sure. I don't know what's going in those tunnels except what Ylva here tells me." And Ylva as a source is, well... Ylva.
 
"I'm not good at healing but I'm sure I can figure it out soon," says Ylva. She wiggles her fingers. "I feel like I'm nearly there! Right now all I can do is tell plants to grab things. I'm not... really sure how it works, but it does." She wiggles her fingers again. Mysteeeerious.
 
 
 
Myrana rubs the back of her neck a little guiltily. "Well, I er-- I haven't been in the tunnels much either, lately. I've been above ground more." She shifts from one foot to the other, setting her skirts to sway slightly and sending the wieght of one of her twin braids to snake down off of her shoulder and down her back again. Glancing at Ylva, she tries not to wince. "...I would vote for medicine. But there are only two of us."

 
"If you want to check with others, you may do so," says Stavers, "That's fine. Let me know what you think soon. I'm just as willing to go with medicine as I am with food. Soldiers fight better on a full belly. There's the aspect of morale to consider too, you know. People will do anything for a full belly.." HE rubs his face, then adds, "but I'll help with the goats. You get me me more, and I can get you nice amount of goats milk for cheese and other scuh things."
 
 

Myrana puts a hand on her stomach, fingers settling over the lacings of her corset-- which, lately, has fitted more fashionably than Myrana would perhaps LIKE. She's starting to loose her cheesecake figure and that is just the icing on the cake of her extreme grumpiness. "Yeah... yeah." She says, then takes a breath and seems to consciously put her chin up, both mentally and physically. "Of course, you're right. We'll go back and put it to a consensus. Thank you, mister Stavers."

<OOC> Myrana is getting SKINNY D:<
 
Ylva nods and smiles. "Yes! We will go and ask the others. I will make a box for putting votes in. That's the civilised way!" She is very proud of having thought of this. "Um, where do I get a box?"

<OOC> Ylva says, "This cannot stand! We must defeat the Protectorate for the sake of Myrana's cuddly figure!"
<OOC> Myrana XD


Myrana smiles a little despite herself.

 
"From a box tree," Myrana says, in a tone rather like a fond, if slightly threadbare mother.