Borimer:
Outside Borimer finds a good place to build a fire and, with a flourish born of both skill and repetition, whips out his trusty iron skillet. When the wood has become white-hot coals Borimer slaps down the first of many steaks and grills up some magic of his own. He allows the aroma to beckon any who wish to partake of this feast on the eve of what may well be the last battle for them all.
Waving away the black smoke, Borimer's Northman instincts rumble in time with his stomach as he digs into the roasted goat.
"Mmmm, good..."
A short while later, Adaran appears and joins the swordsman at the crackling fire. Beneath his dark hooded cloak is the refitted suit of studded leather and winter wolf's pelt that Borimer once wore, tailored to the rogue's slimmer frame. Nodding wordlessly to the warrior, he takes a seat beside him and skewers one of the goat steaks, watching it cook over the fire with a distant gaze in his eyes. He does not speak, but merely sits and shares in the meal with the Northman in silence as night falls upon the compound, letting the hour pass solemnly as if all is understood and nothing need be said.