The shrewd act of playing dumb reminded Kelleb of some encounters he's had with lords in the desert.
Indeed, I'm really not suited for these matters.
Kelleb took a swift gulp of ale, the rich barley aroma filling his mouth, slightly easing his weary spirit.
"How's it going? The negotiations don't seem very smooth?"
A familiar voice sounded, and sitting opposite Kelleb was his dwarf friend, Richie.
At this moment, Richie was leisurely pouring himself a drink while slowly savoring the grilled meat before him.
Cut into small pieces, the lamb lay on a hot iron plate, a tempting golden hue coating its surface, as if painted with the brilliant colors of the sunset.
The slightly curled lamb looked like glistening amber, with fat oozing slowly between the meat, dripping onto the grill with a "sizzle," as if playing a joyful symphony.
