A broad teasing grin, "It's called Five Goblin Chili. It will stay warm inside you the whole time it's in there. Great for them cold winter marches. Pairs well with that Sytori fogger, a hoppy ale of snowberries and mint made by some elves way off the beaten path."
It was nice to meet a human with genuine appreciate for the foreign cuisine. At the comment of Vincent's companions potentially passing out from the chili, Franky boomed in laughter, "Oh they wouldn't be the first ones. It's quite common with Grackles, with their tiny little bodies." A softer smile, "This was all of it, it's not easy to come by the ingredients steadily here in Zaichaer. Even back in the Imperium it wasn't the easiest. But I'll be sure to start adding it to the menu when I can."
After Franky returned to the table with more chilis to try, he laughed, "Eh, some people often argue that too spicy ain't how a chili is supposed to be. I prefer to respectfully disagree." Franky laughed, his brow softening as the man left to cast his vote, watching as the soldiers in his command followed him. He shook his head. To be that young again. To be that reckless and carefree.
Franky sipped at the chili, now alone at the table for a bit longer. He had his mind focusing on several things at once. He was trying to discern the spices and ingredients used in these other chilis, as well as digesting the many various things Vincent had said. He was a good lad, a friendly and inclusive lad. Franky pondered on that village of his, the one with the higher population of orcs and seemed to more readily accept them. There were many things to think about, and much more chili to eat and Franky had all day.
And he didn't really care if he won the contest.
