I've been thinking about food, and diets. There are a couple of reasons for what might be thought an odd subject for speculation. There are two meanings of 'diet' There's the one meaning - how much we eat, and the other meaning - what food we normally consume.
The first came to mind when I put my armour on last turn. I've spent much of the last cycle sitting around the guild hall, except for short forays into the reborn zone hunting for lucent shards. And I've noticed over that time that my armour seems to be shrinking. It's not a lack of exercise - well, I don't think so. Just some sort of flaw in the construction of my armour. I'll have to get Denion to take a look at it next time I end up at his smithy. And maybe eat less in the meantime!
As for the second use of the word - the term diet can be used to refer to what we eat. We humans can eat a fair range of foodstuffs. We can eat meat - though some choose not to - and we can eat plant matter of some kinds. Vegetables, fruits, herbs to add flavour, and so on. It struck me that many animals don't have the same choice.
The bos, for instance. They usually eat grass. They might kill us with an attack, but they don't chew the remains as human flesh is outside their normal diet. I heard that once an experiment was tried, feeding bos minced-up portions of dead bos. The poor creatures developed a terrible disease which was also passed on to people who ate the affected animals.
Even if animals stick to plant products there might be problems when they try nibbling something unusual. Bunnies apparently suffer some sort of reaction to anything novel. Many people have recently been taken unaware by bunnies, assuming they could fight the creatures. But the bunnies have been raiding supplies of cocoa beans. Although the beans can taste bitter, perhaps there's more sugar in them than the bunnies' usual food, and it's driving them into some sort of frenzy. They grow strong and aggressive, and the result can be alarming - if not fatal - to those who usually hunt bunnies. I can only presume this is a result of the bunnies gorging themselves on a type of food not normall eaten by them.
I'm not too sure if there's any conclusion to my rambling thoughts. Except that perhaps I need to keep an eye on how much I eat. And what other creatures eat!

Does form define function? I've been puzzling over the question for the last few turns, ever since a meeting was held to discuss ways in which the cracked pillars of the enchanters' nexus might be repaired or replaced. The main problem is that apparently no-one is sure how they work, and there are some who are now preparing to research the subject. It's hoped that the Council of Ryndall can be persuaded to release any information they have on the matter. This lack of knowledge as to the how of the pillars' workings is clearly an obstacle. That obstacle will delay any repairs that can be carried out.
When we assaulted the dark fortress to rescue the High Queen, we found a tainted life monument and tainted pillars. The gods were able to cleanse the monument so that we could use it during the prolonged battle. It isn't known if there is any way the pillars can be similarly cleansed. And if that can be done, how could they be moved? - though perhaps they might be transported to the nexus one by one, by moving them adjecent to another pillar and using its power to do so in the same way it might transport an enchanter to the nexus. Of course, there is then still the small matter of moving the last one.
Which leads me to the other option discussed - replacing the pillars with new ones. Without knowledge of how they work, or how they were first produced, this might be subject to the same delay as repairing the old ones until that knowledge is revealed. And it led to my musing as to whether it is the shape and form of the pillars that makes them work. We all know of places or buildings that feel welcoming, safe, and comfortable. And other places where the opposite is true. Can the atmosphere of a building be produced in some way by the shape, size or design of the building itself? In the same way, the thought crept into my mind that perhaps there is no obscure power which must in some way be incorporated into the production of those pillars. Perhaps the power comes from the structure, thre physical form, of the pillar itself.
If that were the case, then it would be expected that there are some differences - minute perhaps - between pillars the enchanters use to get to different locations and it was suggested they be examined for any such differences. Also, if ti is the case, then producing an exact copy of a pillar should produce a structure which exactly repliactes the function of the original. Having said that, I'm well aware that I understand very little about the pillars - certainly less than the enchanters who use them routinely. But who knows? A wild idea may reflect at least a part of the actual state of affairs. Dealing with magic means we have to expand the possibilites we consider, maybe far beyond what might seem likely or reasonable.