Matt looked up upon hearing his name. He already had a turkey leg in one hand and a loaf of bread in the other. His mouth was grease covered and his cheeks were puffed out like a squirrel's. His cloak had been cast aside by the door.
"Rmf. Rngls fmr frm."
He set the loaf down and grabbed the nearest mug. He drank heavily, beyond the point of washing the food down. When the mug was empty after one chug, he replied more understandibly.
"Yeah, food's good. But we need to find out what this mission is too. It had better involve certain death. It's been so long since I've been condemned to certain death."
He proceeded to stuff his face, sitting at the nearest table. The nobles and warriors alike looked on in awe as he ate enough to feed a family of four for a week.
[OOC: We need a villain if someone wants to play that role. If nobody out there in tf land does though, we'll just make one up.]
Last edited by Eldaire; 11-12-2003 at 05:21 PM..
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