The Wistful Dinner
The banquet hall of the Guild of St. Jude’s is not a place where one goes to dine, but to be weighed. It is a stone vaulted cathedral of wood and iron, smelling of rendered lard, aged ale, and the damp, mineral scent of the cellar where the vats sit. You sit at the long oak table, your hands folded neatly over the linen napkin, and you wait. You are an actuary. Your job is to calculate the cost...
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