Archer looked at the half-elf and smiled but as he was about to speak the waiter returned followed by a few more men.
They started placing the food on the table and got a second table to put Archer's food on. When they were done he admired the food.
On every plate, there was a towering heap of food. The table itself groaned under the sheer amount of dishes that were placed before them.
There were roasted beast meats, succulent and dripping with juices, their aromas filling the air with an irresistible fragrance.
Towering stacks of golden-brown fried Ironbeak wings, glistening with a mouthwatering glaze, beckoned to him.
He saw mounds of fluffy mashed goldroot, smothered in rich gravy, and vegetables that looked so vibrant and colorful they could have been plucked from a magical garden.
There were pastries, both sweet and savory, with flaky, golden crusts that crumbled at the slightest touch.