Lunamor

Lunamor’s brows furrowed even more at this immediate request for white. But he couldn’t turn away a potential customer. Kaladin looked just as grumpy sometimes, and he wasn’t a troublemaker. Well, the bad kind, at least. ”I will give you this drink soon, after I get the other customer’s order ready.” He turned back around to face the other person. A waiter? Lunamor looked around, realizing he had no idea where his staff was. Another waiter couldn’t hurt, he supposed. He already was having to deal with two customers at once, one minute after he had regained his senses. ”You may be a waiter if you wish. However, this job, he is difficult. Much blood has been shed in trying to serve customers.”

Lunamor nodded, rubbing his hands together and preparing to head into the kitchen. Lunamor glanced behind him, furrowing his brows slightly. This woman, he did not trust her. He would have to avoid giving her too much Horneater White. He had had too many mishaps caused by drunk troublemakers in his restaurant already, and had no interest in kicking someone out the door again.

Lunamor smiled, hiding his relief. The restaurant wasn’t completely destroyed. ”Hello, customer! Have you come for a drink? A meal? Both, perhaps?” He gestured behind him at the glittering menu displayed on the wall. ”Our stew, he is delicious. We have many types, and can make custom ones if a customer wants.” @Ookla-The-Stick

@Canada Lover

No! I am a stick!

Seasoned

Lunamor shook his head, coming out of a stupor. He glanced down, finding that he was wearing an apron proudly emblazoned with the words “I WENT TO THAYLEN CITY AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS APRON”. It was surprisingly not very tacky. What on Roshar… How long have I been gone? He found a bottle of Horneater White tightly gripped in his hand, with only dregs remaining. When had he grabbed that? He swished it around, carefully peering inside. Horneaters, they were never affected by this drink. But inside, he saw a gently swirling mass of darkened light. Ah. Perhaps his new voidlight concoction wasn’t the best idea. He carefully stowed the mostly empty bottle on a shelf built into the backside of the bar, just in case. He scanned the restaurant, hoping that his absence hadn’t allowed it to be entirely destroyed.

213 PAGES OF PAIN

But it soon became many notes. A cascade of seemingly light-hearted sounds that instead filled one’s heart with a sickening sense of dread. Soon, a voice softly began to emerge. Humming, at first, but quickly evolving into words. Impossibly deep, impossibly catchy. It sung a familiar tune, one Nerdy had hoped to forget. But fate was not a kind mistress. ”Never gonna give you up…” (Feel free to disregard this if you are intending to have a more serious story, I am not caught up on it at all )

“Goats. Why did it have to be goats?”

Man, I don’t know why I follow this thread. I’m just setting myself up for failure. At least I take down 46 other people with me whenever I post, mwahaha!

Perk

Superfluous

Welcome to the Shard! Is it reasonable to assume that The Way of Kings is your favorite Sanderson book?

I think we’ve gotten to the opposite of early now, yay! New word: Extreme

Apprehension

Caution

I have learned a new favorite word: Klomp, the Dutch word for clog.

Thank you, that means a lot!

Thank you so much!