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</div><br/>Like the twins, Michael had ordered a mug of sweet honey mead, looking for something simple to enjoy his meal with.  He had debated internally on whether he should get wine along with Gia, but eventually thought better of it when it was his time to order.  Stew, bread, and cheese; the most simple and perhaps stereotypical meal of a growing adventurer, but one had to admit that stereotypes and clichés existed for a reason.  This reason being that they were delicious, and Michael would never turn down such a hearty and filling meal, or substitute it for nearly anything else, except for perhaps a finely cut steak.<br/><br/>"Well, I think it's admirable," replied Michael, as he brought his mug to his lips and concealed the lower half of his face by drinking deeply.  "He might have missed out on the most charming part of his meal had it not been for her," he further added, a sly grin forming under his beard.  He sat his mug down on the table and leaned back in his seat, listening to the change of topics as Uwa tried to steer them back into a more serious direction.  "I worry about the elf, personally," he chimed in, scratching at the hairs on his chin.  "Nimble and dexterous their lot usually are, the worst a halfling could do is try to pelt us with stones, or chomp on our heels," he said racistly, though whether he was being serious or not was hard to tell.  As was Michael's prerogative, having come from a large city and working with a church that primarily dealt with midwives and morticians, and mostly human at that.  Rather than grow morbid like so many others of his class, Michael had adopted a strange sense of humor and wit, opting to look at the more casual side of things.  Whether that was a wall or a farce, put up to cope from the dark things he had mastered and learned, was anyone's guess.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>