Lords of RPG

For Gabe, the relative comfort and security of being in a settled human town, somewhat alleviated the shock of coming through the Gate of Oth.  Being in a weird split-off section of Kempin that had existed independently for over 500 years, somehow felt better than the mystery and danger of the fey forest.  Here there were buildings, and people, laws, a government, and the plants weren't so exaggerated and strange.  

The fact that a huge section of the Fey lands had been transported to Kempin, suddenly made the enormously strange sights, sounds, and smells of the fey forest make more sense.  Here, in the town of Toulon, everything looked normal.  And familiarity was calming.

Gabe watched as Timm, Sympos, and Shade went off on some errands.  Arwin and Vincent seemed determined to go to the tavern, and rent some rooms.  Gabe straightened the cooking pot on his head, and headed off for the nearest restaurant...following his nose.

The delicious scent trail took him on a winding trail to the "Gouts Fins."  Gabe was curious.  Everyone in Toulon spoke Western Common, but he chalked up the foreign naming convention to something foreign perhaps.  He recognized the language as the old language of Swanluke, in the Empire.  At one point in the distant past, has the people of the Kingdom of Othamar shared a common language with the people of Swanluke?

But, the smell of the roasting meats and fresh baked bread wiped the curious thoughts from his mind.  The establishment had a small lawn, and some tables and chairs out on the lawn.  It appears they had places to sit and eat on the inside as well.  There were fine fabrics draped over the tables.  What odd tradition was this?

Gabe crossed the small lawn, and approached Gouts Fins.

(Continued by Mark Stinson)

Gabe could feel his mouth watering at he approached the open door way.  He could hear people talking and laughing inside the Gouts Fins restaurant.  The sound of spoons and knifes clinking on crockery.  The sounds of glasses clinking and mugs knocking together.  

Inside, the restaurant was packed.  Nearly every table and every seat was full.  The tables had those weird cloths draped over them.  There were candles burning on every table, and for some reason the ceiling was covered with hanging empty wine bottles.  

But, it was the smell that took Gabe's mind and scrambled it.  Imagine every fine and savory flavor, in the air mixing, and remixing into something greater than any individual part.  The restaurant smelled like what the heavens must smell like.  A wide smile crossed Gabe's face.

"Hey, you...fuck face!"  Gabe looked to his right, where a large man was addressing him directly from one of the tables.  The man was large, scarred, and ugly.  But not as ugly as the orc he dined with.  A halfling and two human women also sat at the table.  "Yeah...you.  Get us more bread.  Quit slacking!"

Gabe looked behind himself to ensure the man wasn't addressing someone else.  Then he pointed at his own chest.  "Me?"

The large man scowled, meat juices running down his scruffy beard.  "Yeah you!  You're our waiter, ain't cha?"

Game gave a slight smile.  "Sure...be right back."

There were two swinging doors leading into the kitchen, and Gabe wound through the tables of diners, until he reached the doors, and walked through.  The kitchen was a abuzz with activity.  An older fat dwarf seemed to be tending to a several meat-spits, and grill, and some pots of hot stew.  The rest of the kitchen staff were teenage humans, equally busy preparing side-dishes, baking bread, and assembling dishes to go out to the diners.

The dwarf glanced over at Gave as he came in the doors.  "No, no, no...if you want handouts, you come to the back door!"  The dwarf pointed a thick finger at a half-open door in the kitchen leading outside.  "It doesn't look good when you come through the restaurant, no matter how hungry you are!"

Gabe gave a half-shrug.  "Actually, a customer wants bread, and thinks I'm his waiter."

The dwarf flipped some of the meat on the grill with a large over-engineered fork-like device.  "Well, get him some bread...and if you want a job, see the hostess.  Margarete will see to it.  Now get the fuck out of my kitchen!"