Then he did not know what to do. He went downstairs and did not see Lynna around anywhere. People were milling about. Tables had been brought back to the dining room, and the room was positively stuffed with people. He did not see Avern anywhere, or Mary, or even Margaret and Elsa.
There was hot soup being served, although it looked like it was pretty sparse servings so far. People were understanding and sharing around. He saw folk dipping stale bread in the soup to make it easier to eat. People were too hungry and obviously exhausted, yet he was impressed at how they were still treating each other civilly. People weren't yelling if there weren't enough bowls for their table yet.
He supposed it must be a tremendous task to prepare so much food all at once. He did not think he'd ever seen the room so stuffed, and he knew the kitchens had been through a lot, as well.
"Can I help?" he asked when he finally made his way there. At first glance the kitchen appeared almost normal. The charring on the ceiling was still apparent, and there were gouges in the walls in many places. Some of the pots were battered, but they were still useable.
The great cauldron kettle hung in the fire, and there were pots on the stove as well. There was an army of helpers cutting and chopping. Someone handed him a tray of bowls.
"Hand these out?" the Rachel Gannen asked him. He had seen her husband in a pile of bodies at some point. He supposed the inn was probably hers now. He nodded and took the tray.
It was quite a few trips before he felt like he'd finally earned the single bowl that Rachel handed him eventually. "Eat," she ordered with a sad smile. He ate leaning against the wall in the dining room, watching people comforting and supporting each other. It frightened him that he was going to see some of these same events played out in other towns as they ran along the evil's predestined path. It also convinced him further that he needed to contribute to defeating it. Conviction made weak soup taste better.
