A Feast of Fasting

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A far cry from the feast-halls of Burgundy. [...] table is but a slab of masonry [...] that one suspects, until recently, was clad in virulent moss.

[...] meat, while anonymous, smells delicious.

The Queensmen wait politely at their seats. Tradition dictates you begin.

Unlocked with a redirect from The Keep Called Queeneater's

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Feast
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Do not feast