"Sick bay's inside the Spire, ground floor; there's a forge to the east, hard work getting the furnace hot enough in this weather, though. I leave it to you."

He licked his lips and carried on, hoarse voice at a swift clip; "I have people securing the walkways already. Would you help me with the cellars? They've frosted over." Frustration twanged in his voice, an edge of fury at being unable to offer something as simple as a warm dry refuge. "Vampir aren't...so affected by the cold, but these are the refugees, the weak, the injured."