Snippet #1791913

Ranos Tarran sat in the dining hall of the guild, eyeing up the plate of cold meat that lay before him. "Damn.", he thought, "The guild really has fallen on hard times." There was once a time where guild members were treated to the sweetest nectars and meats that could make the hardest pallets light up with delight.

He stabbed at the meat with an old and slightly bent fork, lifting a piece of pork into his mouth. The Guild hadn't gotten a contract request in a week, and it was contract money that funded the entire operation. It seems nobody trusted in the reputation of the guild anymore. Glancing around the near-empty dining hall, Ranos took a great sigh, returning the meat to its plate and leaning back in his chair.