Lalreth presses his lips together. It was obvious the old halfling was sick, and sickness made Lalreth a bit nervous. Death amongst elves was rarely of this slow and agonizing type. Death should come calmly, from old age, or swiftly in battle, not in this agonizing way. "Alder, I think I can say we're willing to fight the dragon. I certainly wouldn't want your people to go hungry," he says in the most serious voice he's used in quite a while.