Picking himself up from the floor, Sunny staggered and found his way back to the fire burning under the improvised grill. Glancing at the motionless stone knight, he spat a bit more blood and groaned.
As the appetizing aroma of roasting meat filled the air, the Blood Weave got busy repairing his body. By the time his supper was ready, Sunny was able to breathe without wincing.
Putting the meat on his prized possession — the luxurious silver plate — Sunny prepared to eat.
On the Forgotten Shore, simple everyday necessities like plates were rarer than enchanted swords and magical suits of armor. In the whole cursed city, only Gunlaug and his five lieutenants were able to dine with as much decorum as Sunny.
Granted, he had yet to find even a single pair of chopsticks in this whole damn place, let alone something more technologically advanced, like a spoon. Of course, Sunny could try and make one himself, but that wasn't the same thing.
