Pots were brought out, and a small pouch of seasoning was found within a travel bag slung over a young man's shoulder.
Karl noticed that the man only had one hand, the other arm ended above the elbow. So, he would struggle to do most farm work, and any other sort of manual labour. It would explain why an otherwise healthy looking fellow was on pilgrimage with these old folk.
Though, Karl did see a few gaunt young women with children, so he couldn't rule out that some were just starving or orphaned and hoping for the best.
"Do you use a holy relic to create the food?" The one armed man asked.
Karl shook his head. "No, I know the spell. My species has an innate gift for magic, like most of you. But I'm at the Mythic Rank, so I'm not quite so limited in my options.
Your leader is a cleric, is he not? Doesn't he have the gift?"
