Taint Brigade Potluck Party

[gentlecountry]

WHO: Barty and all the Wardens who can come, and their plus-ones
WHAT: Taint Brigade Potluck Party, bring ur own booze, or don't, whatever
WHEN: Mid-September, a good time for Harvest prices and celebrations
WHERE: The Gallows I guess?
NOTES: language/alcoholic content

The table was not the largest one in the Gallows. The largest table in the Gallows was an enormous monster at which a high dragon might comfortably have dined, and which had once served as the mess for nearly every mage in the place, long ago. That the original table now served as six or so smaller tables subdivided was not relevant to the measurement; once a thing is, even if you cut it into pieces, it remains that thing in the same way that a nickname remains, regardless of objections.

Some things just seem to stick.

Potatoes, for example. A mountain of potatoes, just like the ones whipped into a tall white peak in an enormous bowl at the center of the table. And next to them an equally impressive roast, which was once comprised of two thick-limbed nugs and goose, and which now consists of a platter of neatly separated dark and light meats, crackling with seasoning, and the nug-steaks slightly pink at the center.

There is a cake. It is amateurishly frosted with a griffon in blackcurrant jam. There is a bowl of pudding to rival the mashed potatoes, full of something sweet and whipped and smelling of wild strawberries and cream.

There is booze, oh yes, though only the harsh mushroom-based stuff Barty brews himself, doled out into suitably tiny glasses and arranged in a little crowd of future drunks.

And what did you bring, to the party?

<b>Name:</b> character name <b>Dish:</b> food they brought <b>Drink:</b> booze they brought

Comments

[doneisdone]

Teren walks in the door and stops, immediately narrowing her eyes at the mounds of food everywhere, scrutinizing them carefully until her gaze lands on the shortest silhouette: Barty.

"What," she says flatly, perhaps short for 'what's this' or 'what are you looking at' or even 'what should I eat first', but the answer will be lost to time.

[gentlecountry]

And Barty, who is currently engaged in sitting back and surveying his starch-crowned kingdom gestures with a shot of mushroom moonshine, downs it in a gulp, and salutes Teren with the result.

"Welcome t'you, Miss Teren," He calls, cheerfully, "What we gots here is a good old fashioned pot-luck dinner. You can brings your own foods and drink, and-slash-ors you can just eats your fill. Used to do's this with the gang back in Antiva alls the time; everybody's welcome."

The gang is a totally appropriate way to phrase 'every warden not actively engaged in combat, including the Warden-Commander' right?

[doneisdone]

She still looks at a bit of a loss, glancing to and fro between items.

"...I haven't got anything," comes the gruff response, possibly even slightly self-conscious. Then, narrowing her eyes, she turns and walks back out without another word.


...only to return about half an hour later with a keg of something or another under her arm, which she plants on the table with her usual no-nonsense aplomb.

[gentlecountry]

"Saveds you a plate," And promptly Barty appears at her elbow, platter in hand and loaded with an esoteric sampler of nearly everything present, "Ooh, what's haves we here?"

Take the plate Teren. It's that or let it splatter across your boots.

"...Well, this is right neighborly ofs you, Teren. Thanks you for joinings us."

[doneisdone]

"Frostback whiskey," she grunts, and takes the plate without comment. Then, with only a strange look to Barty (he's probably getting used to those by now), she turns to go sit down where she can pick at the contents of the plate like an ominous bird.