Discussion
A bowl of steaming stew sat before Nya, a goblet of some sort of wine within reach. The dining room was crude, lit by a candelabra in the middle of the ruggedly hewn table. She poked around in the bowl with her spoon for a few seconds, contemplating whether or not she should eat it. Slate was sitting at the far end of the table, a good ten yards away from her, already nearly finished with his own portion, which had to be twice what she’d been served. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that it had been a while since she’d eaten a meal, but since she had no idea what kind of meat this was, where it had come from, or where the vegetables that floated around as she stirred the brown broth might’ve come from, she was leery of putting any of it into her mouth.
“It’s beef,” he assure
