Open Chronicles Feastmaster

[Skull-hammer]

It is something of a miscommunication to say the Forest Ogres cooked. Strictly speaking they did indeed prepare food and often prepared it with gusto but the word "cook" in many languages equates to simply the preparation of meals whereas the habit of Forest Ogres of preparing food for eating was closer to ritual than anything else.

Skull-hammer has travelled and seen a most curious thing. In some parts of Aerethil small-folk (that is those of considerably lesser than ogre size) often put one animal within another to enhance the flavours. A layered meal.

The idea was fascinating to him but he thought that the small-folk limited themselves with small birds so he had tried to adapt the idea to something bigger.
A cow, within the cow is a pig and within the pig is sheep. The sheep is stuffed with mint and grain, the pig with garlic and parsley and the cow was soaked in dark grape wine.

That was not the whole of it though. As the mighty layered beasts cooked on a mighty iron spit Skull-hammer had prepared other delights.
Pumpkins filled with potato and leek soup were kept warm on fired stones and the cold dish of citron saturated cod with dill and sour bread made an excellent starter.

To drink he made drinks of dark bitter leaf and honey with cloves. The smell was as warm as the drink itself and it left a cozy feeling in the chest.

All in all Skull-hammer had prepared a feast and it was a grand occasion for it.
The moon was beginning a new phase and the first wind of cold came on the breeze. It was the end of Summer. A holy time for his people.

The feast helped him not to miss home even as he sat on the outskirts of Oban in his camp, where the turn of the night would yield a better look at the clear night sky and his fire roared hot enough to cook the nesting beasts he cast an eye up and saw movement.
Someone was coming, no doubt drawn by the rich smells he was producing.

 

[Smush]

The smell of meat ripe off the bone only to be cooked in a cauldron or turned over a spit or eaten raw and wriggling was an undeniable treat for a certain ogre’s nostrils like it was this night. Oban might have been a beautiful city, especially for the wealthy elite, but this was one person who preferred the outskirts. Wow. Look at that. A camp!

The fire was mighty fine and bright. Closer, the ogre approached, garbed in dark iron armor over brown garments. It was a traveler’s outfit as much as a warrior’s when the occasion called for it. He was also armed with a great mace at his back and had a pair of drums hanging from either hip. At this camp in the distance, however, he had only one intention tonight as he arrived.

“Wot you cookin’ there then!?” He jabbed a finger at the camp’s owner as if in accusation but was just excited in truth. “Pull me teeth out through me bleedin' ears, it smells absolutely delicious!” At that, Smush began prancing around the camp as if he owned it.

“By my bloody knife, pumpkin soup, is it!? Oh and potatoes and leaks! EEEE!” He licked his lips. “Wow! And a cow! Wait a second...” He tilted his head at the spit, wide-eyed. “My good sir and fellow ogre, is there a PIG in the COW and a SHEEP in the PIG!?” He had never seen such a thing. It was the same feeling a dwarf might get when they find a precious gem.

Skull-hammer

 

[Nuir]

Nuir had only recently visited the grand city of Oban with his dear friend Aurra Brylee. There were still many sights he had yet to see of the city. Yet he was given to wander, he often made a point to seek outskirts and less noble parts of any city he visited. These were often the places with patients that needed him the most.
Nuir who had tended to a few patients had been considering heading back toward the city when his nose caught a very pleasant smell. Ever unable to ignore his curiosity he followed the smell to an impressive display of a camp. He needn't be curious for too long about what was being cooked. A large Ogre was thundering joyously about the camp of an even larger Orc. He was loudly declaring the delicacies responsible for the delightful aroma.
Nuir came close enough to get a better look at the roasting sculpture of meat. Though not too close so as to avoid being accidentally trampled.
"I didn't know there were such tall folk out here. Are you celebrating something?" He called up to them.

 

[Skull-hammer]

"HMM?"
The great chef paused in his labours to get up and meet his guests. It was also part of his people's ways to never turn a guest away from food. It often made for strange company and this ogre, not one of his people, was certainly that.
"IT IS AS YOU SAY!"
His mighty voice seemed to come from below the earth and rumbled in his chest as he spoke. This one seemed to be raised among the Small-folk or at least had been among them longer than Skull-hammer.
"A SMALL-FOLK TRICK FOR BETTER EATING BIRDS. NOW IT IS BETTER FOR EATING BEASTS!"

The mighty spit upon which he roasted the centrepiece of his feast turned in his big green hand. He gave it a half rotation and left it there, upside down and locked as not to fall. That he might address the other Ogre who wore the metal things of Small-folk.
Then another, one of the Small-folk themselves, which was no surprise to him. Asking for what reason in the feast.

"SNOW IS COMING, THE SUN WEAKENS."
Gently he gave a brave inhalation and took in the dark air of cold night.
"WINTER WILL BE HARD THIS YEAR."

Even after a full two years of it he had not fully mastered the tongues of the Small-folk, some he knew better but the Trader Tongue which was often spoken had much double meaning to its words and words for many the same things. It made things difficult.

"GATHER, SIT."
Lifting two of the pumpkins in his great hands he gave one to each of his arrived guests.
"THERE IS MUCH TO EAT!"

Smush
Nuir

 

[Smush]

It was as he said, he said! Smush did like it when things were as Smush said! That made him grin, proud as a mountain. “ALSO FOR EATING HUMIES, METHINKS!” HE AGREED.

Rubbing his hands together, not to keep warm beside the fire so much as in excitement over eats, Smush licked his lips as if he could already taste the delicious meats. The soup was one thing but the majestic cookings on the spit was another thing indeed!

“HAMMER MY SHINS IN!” The ogre versed his expression and turned to the latest newcomer who was definitely not an ogre. He was much smaller and punier and uglier and his words were prettier.

“MUCH TO EAT INDEED!” Smush accepted the pumpkin and took a seat. “ALSO MUCH TO DRINK! Please tell me you have ale as well?” He would need something to wash all this meat down with besides soup!

Cracking the pumpkin open with his teeth, the ogre turned to the elf-thing, eyes glued to his different-colored eyes, but he spoke to the other ogre. “WHEN DO WE EATS THIS ONE THEN!?” He asked the chef as he chewed. “ELF-EARS FOR SOUPY MENU, YES?”

Skull-hammer
Nuir

 

[Nuir]

Preparing rations for winter, admirable. It was nearly always cold in The Spine. He had been traveling so long that he was looking forward to the cooler weather if for nothing else than a touch of home.
Before he could make much more small talk he was being ushered over to have a seat.

They were handed a pumpkin and nearly toppled over as they took hold of it. Nuir settled in to where the chef Ogre had indicated.
The other ogre had apparently decided that he looked quite tasty. A notion he had thought he would need to tackle out here. Nor had he heard such proclaimed so loudly with enthusiasm.
Luckily, Nuir was too bemused with being invited to a winter feast to be frightened by the threat of becoming an ingredient in said feast. It wasn't every day Nuir had the opportunity to break bread with Ogres.
"I would prefer to not be on the menu, if it's all the same." He replied evenly as if it were an after thought. Then he dug in his satchel for a wooden spoon. Carefully he pried open the pumpkin and inspected the contents of the soup. It smelled very inviting. Nuir scooped a bit up an patiently blew on it before popping the spoon into his mouth. It turned out to be a potato soup. The leeks were a pleasant discovery.
"I hadn't known Ogres used herbs in their cooking."
Nuir remarked, a bit louder than usual so as to be heard, out of respect for the other two men's height.

Skull-hammer
Smush

 

[Skull-hammer]

What had he expected?

For Skull-hammer, who had broken bread with painted orc shamans, island dwelling dragons, Giants and human tyrant sorcerers he had seen all manner of disrespect but none so blatant even among the dull witted.

The Small-folk often treated him and others like him as if they were slow minded, this was a misconception at least for those of his Ilk. Forest Ogres were merely ponderous and took their time in making decisions but unmovable as mountains when decided on almost any course. The small-folk called it "stubborn" but for him and his folk the act of making a decision and sticking to it was a responsibility in itself. How else should beings of such size and presence act?

Skull-hammer had learned the hard lesson, that those who dwelled with many Small-folk spoke and acted with no resolve, they gave breath to words then tried to betray themselves when the time came. Ogres of the FallWood were honest but not careless and simple but never foolish.

Smush, to Skull-hammer's eyes, was not one such Ogre at all. The term he might use would be "Sar'halsav" a thing that does not know itself.

"YOU WOULD EAT MY GUEST?"
His dark eyes leered at the other Ogre. A question that demanded an answer and spoken in a way that left no question even to the most ignorant of listeners as to its utter seriousness. For to threaten a guest on such a night of celebration was to offend Host, Guest and Oneself.

To the Elf, Nuir, Skull-hammer smiled and the gentle good nature that was his usual way shone.
"YOU ARE SAFE HERE!"

Sitting down at the mighty beast stuffed beast he chuckled at the Elf's statement.
"HMM."
The sound rumbled out of him.
"WE DO USE IT, WHERE I AM FROM!"

The elf was not incorrect in his assessment, Many Ogre's from outside the Fallwood were often content to eat without seasoning or flavour. Skull-hammer did when times needed so but it was a shame to him to avoid doing it when one has the opportunity.

Gently he resumed turning the prize on the spit. The scent filled the air with mingled saltiness that wet the pallet.

 

[Smush]

“YES I WOULD EAT YOUR GUEST IF HE WISHES IT!” Smush answered the ogre chef plain as steak with no seasoning. Talking food! Who’d have thought!? “Wait.” He blinked between both of them. “OH. This one is not for eating?” He grinned with open teeth but kept it vague as to whether he was only joking.

Sure, maybe other ogres were smarter or dumber just like almost every member of every species in this universe was to each other, but Smush was just dumb. As for other ogre guy? He seemed to be the uptight type who took things way too seriously in life.

“Suit yourself, elf!” Smush licked pumpkin pulp from his lips. “But I bet you’d be delicious!” He meant it like this little guy didn’t know what he was missing by not volunteering to enter the spit. However, there was plenty of meat on the menu already and Smush wasn’t interested enough in elven flesh to crack this one’s head open. That required effort especially with that elfy agility and everything!

“HERBS MAKE SOUPY SOUP EVEN SOUPIER!” Smush scooped himself some soup and drank heartily. Ogre chef sure knew how to cook! “GOOD.” Smush expressed and reached to click his bowl with his elven friend’s the way one clinks a glass of mead. “VERY GOOD, ME THINKS.”

Skull-hammer
Nuir

 

[Nuir]

Nuir ate a few spoonfulls of soup as he quietly watched the exchange between the two Ogres.
It would seem for now his safety was secured.
My but Ogres really did have such loud voices. He half wondered if the conversation could be heard all the way back in Oban.
He offered the more dangerous Ogre a small polite smile and did his best not to lose his balance as the Ogre bumped the Pumpkins together like a cheer.
"Yes, it is a very pleasant soup."

He turned to look up at the Ogre turning the spit "Where do you hail from? Forgive me but I know very little of Ogres or their homelands."
He glanced between the two. He had thought they were perhaps traveling together but now that he had spoken to them both that seemed unlikely. One generally hashed out the protocol for eating or not eating guests quite early in travel he assumed. That and they seemed to have quite different affects.
"Did you two arrive here together?"

Skull-hammer
Smush

 

[Skull-hammer]

With his smile he thanked the elf for his appreciation then a laugh, long and loud erupted from Skull-hammer as he heard the question about his origins.

"NO, I HAVE NOT SEEN THIS ONE BEFORE."
The spit rotated again.

"I COME FROM THE GREAT FOREST TO THE EAST. FALLWOOD. DEEP IN THE HILLS AND TREES."

Speaking on it now he felt he missed it and got lost in his thoughts as his kind were often to do. It lowered his voice but even in a whisper an ogre may yet be heard clearly.

"I carved stone, better than any other. Made faces to the wind and sky."
Gently he pulled up his hammer, the thing was near as tall as Nuir himself and the great carved stone dragon head reflected in the flickering light.

"This is mine, I made it to come out here, into the world."
Setting it down with a heavy thump on the grass of his camp Skull-hammer smiled a half smile at the elf.
"WHERE DO YOU COME FROM, OBAN?"

At the asking it was his turn to take some soup and he tipped the broth into his mouth like drinking from a goblet.

Nuir