Iron-Scale stood before the iron vaults of the royal storehouse. The rusted chains securing the double doors snapped as Novus drove his broadsword through the central lock.
The metal gates swung inward with a grating screech. Hundreds of wooden crates and burlap sacks filled the cavernous hall from floor to ceiling. The previous regime had hoarded enough supplies such as grain, salted meat, and root vegetables to feed the capital for months.
Lupis stepped into the vault behind Iron-Scale and Novus. Lupis gripped his walking cane tightly and stared at the stacked provisions. The citizens of Tarnstead had been scavenging for rats outside the palace walls while Voranthar stockpiled prime resources.
"Take it," Iron-Scale instructed. He turned his violet eyes toward Lupis. "Organize your surviving bureaucrats and establish rationing lines in every major plaza. Feed the districts."
