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[i]The Clock rings five times. 
It is evening. As the sun sets early, bringing the darkness and the cruel winter, the men and women lock their doors against the horrors of the night. The peasants huddle around the fireplace for warmth against the cold. They stir their stews, one bowl for each. A warm meal, for a cold night. The nobles sit at their six meter long tables, preparing for a full course dinner. Guards watch the walls.
As the night sets and the long dark comes. Winter has arrived. To the North Frost Isles, they ride their longboats to raid the Central Continent. To the Western Deserts of Lesrek and Dushai, nomadic warlords set their sight eastward. The southern pole stirs, glowing eyes lighting ruins that have been long since forgotten. The sea-leviathans of the south migrate northwards as colder waters begin to set around the globe. Within the Central Continent itself is no safe haven. Black bile secrets from the ground. Creatures of the dark and of sin wander the night. Cities fortify their walls. Villages arm their militias. Travelers set their perimeters. Sometimes the only sound in the night is the occasional scream of death. These are recent events. The people are unused to war. To fighting a foe that commands fear. Where they come from, nobody knows. The world is at unrest. Yet none of this seems to reach The Tavern. The creatures avoid it. Nobody knows.
The Clock rings five times. And sets on The Star. Hope. The Long Dark is usually fraught with dread but this night, the people can sleep soundly. They dream of the summers and springs, wheat fields and flowers. The Sun. The Star. They dream peacefully, yet not all of them would wake.[/i]
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Ihri spent the last few hours cleaning the kitchen, primarily the spit and the oven. She would need those. Before she went into the kitchen to make dinner for everyone, she told the Warforged that she would do the examination over dinner time. In the meantime, Black would keep him company. Black was not a very talkative person, but he did consider himself strong. Maybe a tad bit weaker than a Warforged... It wasn't long until he put his elbow on the table for tests of strength. Arm wrestling, for a start.

Luckily the kitchen was still stocked with a few things, smoked fish and pork, dried wheat and oats, some candied nuts, and an uncanny amount of alcohols. The lack of ingredient variety meant that she couldn't make much, but gruel was an easy make. After half an hour, the gruel was ready. It wasn't particularly much, certainly not a meal for kings, but it did the job. Bits of smoked fish and pork would make it tastier as well. She grabbed a few bowls and washed them, walking out to the bar with the bowls and the hot gruel, she put them on the table. Along with a plate of the smoked meat.

[b]"Gruel with meat?"[/b] The aged bartender asked, [b]"Is that all we have?"[/b]
Ihri gave a rather dejected, [b]"Yeah,"[/b] fearing that she hadn't done a good job.
[b]"Good work. We'll send someone to get supplies from the city in the morning."[/b] The Bartender took out an ink pen and a small notebook, writing in a reminder. Ihri smiled, walking back to the table that the Warforged and Black were sitting at. She put a bowl of gruel, topped with some pork on the table and let it sit. Grabbing the magnifying glass, she spoke up to grab their attention.
[b]"Now it's time for your examination."[/b] She sat the Warforged down, stepping back a few steps and peered at him with the magnifying glass. After a few minutes, she spoke up, [b]"Whoever made you didn't do a very good job. I should be able to patch you up, but it might take a while...[/b]