Celandine was surprised to not see an object or a gift from the heavens during the storm, but rather a small group of dwarves sitting in the middle of the main room of the building claimed for studies and research, huddled and covered in numerous blankets, with their long, lank hair looking as if freshly washed and clean simple clothes. They were devouring food, as if they had not eaten well in months, and a large cask of ale was available to them.

Mistress Garrett moved directly over to them, nodding to each of the dwarves briefly before she gestured Celandine over. "Come," she grunted.

But the faun was already approaching. With respect she nodded her head to the group and waited until Vanimar was standing beside her, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword out of sheer habit.

"Steadfast. Bolor. This be th' scholar who brough' us th' firs' samples."

Two of the dwarves, seeming to be leaders by the way they moved amongst their brethren, despite their weariness, looked directly over to the faun. One of them, a ginger fellow with azure eyes, gruffly nodded at her.

"You're the faun, huh?"

Celandine blinked a moment, lost in confusion before she agreed. "Indeed I am, dwarf …" Due to her original bad guess with Garrett's gender she had come to not assume anything about what was under a dwarf's beard.

"Steadfast," Steadfast smiled, although very briefly. "Male, mmm."

That certainly helped. Even Vanimar seemed to relax at the comment.

"Master Steadfast," Celandine once more nodded. "I am Celandine, of Corone, and this is my companion, Vanimar of Sanctuary."

"Th'drow bodyguard, hmm?" the dwarf beside him, one with a higher voice - so possibly female, but one must not make assumptions - and blonde hair braided back from their face seemed to giggle. Then they lowered the tankard in their hands and waved. "I'm Bolor. Steadfast's be'er half."

"Be'er half?" Steadfast raised an eyebrow.

"Bodyguard?" Vanimar whispered with caution, but he was cut off when Mistress Garrett came forward.

"Th'others Umbrian and Canin," she introduced quickly. "They are a scou'ing party, who'ave been followin' the directions you gave to the wee cave in."

It took Celandine a moment to understand. "Cave in? You mean in the old mines?" It seemed like another lifetime ago that she, Umbra, Vanimar and another few dark elves had tracked a route from Sanctuary to the Jagged Mountains, discovering the ancient mining tunnels that held a secret that just might win the war. Originally Celandine herself had researched and then found a rudimentary route through natural caves to the western coast of Alerar, with the idea that it could make an escape route for the dark elves still held hostage within Sanctuary. Further studies had led her to realise that the old dwarven mines were actually created to find the incredibly rare metal that could, if forged correctly, create a sword that could once more seal the portal through which the demons had originally come.

Surprised and aghast, realisation coming to her, the ten year old stared in earnest at the dwarves and placed the pieces of the conversation together.

"Wait - you have returned. And so that means -"

"Aye, we would've returned sooner bu' th'storm kept us undergroond fer some time. I'm afraid also tha' there been more collapses because of … fierceness." Steadfast grimaced, and shook his head. "We cannae get an army through there the now."

"You cannot get an army through the mines?" Vanimar said, alarmed, his eyes wide. "But that means -"

"Nay to worry," Mistress Garrett came to his aid. "We've been sendin' small groups o'troops through the last few days. Steadfast and a' can confirm their passage past the wee cave in."

"Aye," it was Bolor's turn to talk now. "They're all through. But af'er tha' storm. Af'er all that loose ground, it's no worth risking it."

So the dwarves had managed to send at least some reinforcements to Sanctuary. Glancing at Vanimar with a sigh of satisfaction, Celandine felt a little more hope. It meant that Commander Raimneth was more likely to be alive and capably holding his position. Vanimar responded with a pleased nod, agreeing with her perceptions.

"That is good to know, thank you," the young scholar held her hands together before her and did not hide the relief in her expression. "It means a lot to us. But the other news …"

"Aye. Ken." Bolor sat up straighter as the one called Umbrian leaned to the side of their box chair and brought up a large haversack to their lap.

"We managed t'mine and fin' more ore. Thanks to ye."

The cords of the sack were tugged upon, undoing the knot as Bolor spoke. Celandine caught her breath in her chest, unashamedly in her excitement patting at Vanimar's arm.

"Aye," Bolor nodded as the fabric fell open, revealing several large black rocks. One tumbled directly to the floor, showing the rich silvery veins inlaid into the grey stone. It landed at Celandine's feet as Vanimar breathed in sharply, and very lightly touched the faun's smallest finger.

"Jus' enough to forge," Umbrian whispered softly, picking one of the ores up and turning it so the metallic element glinted in the candlelight. "Jus' enough. Perfect. To reforge the sword of the First King."