A Fungithal Meal Part 2 (Solo)

[Franky]

Thread Title

Glade 12, 121

All of the organs removed, Franky grabbed his butcher's knife. Moving down to the tail, he swung hard once, the knife getting stuck in the tail bone. He yanked it out, annoyed, and swung down again at the same spot, going deeper but still not severing it. One more swing and finally he heard the thud of the blade striking the table beneath. He set the tail off to the side, and did the same for the head and legs, setting each of them aside.

Franky then once more set to work with his carving knife on the splayed open torso. He used it to separate the muscle from the bones. It was sloppy work, now that the organs were gone, he was rushing a little, he'd need to check on his patrons again shortly. As he worked, depositing the bones into another bucket, he knew he'd need to hire someone soon, someone who could work the room while he was in the back. A barmaid or a bartender at the very least. But he didn't know enough people here to build that type of relationship yet.

Soon, he hoped.

Once he had all of the bones removed from the torso, he set about to making large steaks from the ribs, back, and belly meat. He set them all aside, annoyed a bit at their lack of uniformity but he wanted to work quickly here. He did like how the skin looked still on it and he wondered how it would cook up. Franky set to work carving meat from all the other bonier portions of the body, making a pile of these smaller bits, and dumping the bones into the bucket. And before too long, he was done, sweat showing on his brow. He turned, washed his hands, and stepped back out into his bar.

Across the way, the Grackle raised his flagon. Franky grabbed a fresh flagon, filling it with the cheap, local ale. He stepped out into the main area, smiling as he walked past a few of the empty tables, setting the flagon down before the smaller goblin. "Here you go. mate."

The Grackle smiled broadly and swayed a bit and Franky knew the little guy was on his way to drunk and smiled, "Enjoying the ale here?" The Grackle was already sipping at it while nodding his head. A refreshing gasp escaped his lips, then squeaked out, "I'm just happy to find a place where they don't throw shoes at me."

Franky chuckled, nodding, "Yeah, they sure aren't as friendly as back home. But what can you expect from humans?" At this, the Grackle cracked open into loud laughter, "Yes! Exactly!"

"So what brings you to Zaichaer?"

The Grackle took another long drink, "I'm with a merchant caravan, got a nice haul of ores I'm sellin' here."

"From down below?"

The Grackle nodded, and Franky continued, "I bet that's worth a nice copper or two," a sly grin growing on his face. The Grackle saw the teasing grin, matching it with his own, "Or maybe a few more."

Franky gave another chuckle, "Well I gotta get back to cookin' for dinner. Do you need anything else for now?" The Grackle shook his head and slid the expected coins forward, and Franky took them, "Thanks mate. Holler if you need me." Franky quickly bussed and wiped down the empty tables, gathering the tips there. He deposited the dishes into the cleaning basin, and the coins into the lockbox. Then he stepped back into the kitchen once more.

[Franky]

Thread Title

Time Stamp

Franky looked at the meat and bones and juices everywhere and smiled. Pursing his lips, he began humming a song from his home as he transferred the steaks to a baking sheet and then sliding them into the ice chest to stay cool. He turned back to the table, thinking through the steps to start with. Bones. Always start with the bones. He walked back to the ice box, opening it up and pulling the pot of water out that he kept in there to stay cold. He set it on the table, and began dropping all of the bones into it.

Then he heaved the pot off the table and carried it over to the hearth he reserved for his daily stew. He set the pot down on the floor, and grabbed wood from the pile, building it up over the smoldering ashes. He tossed some tinder into the mix then stoked the ashes until he had his fire going. He then hung the pot from its hook and walked over to one of his cabinets. He pulled out a basket of onions and a basket of carrots, setting them on the table. This was soon followed by potatoes. Then he walked over to the fresh larder and grabbed the basket of tomatoes. He poked at them, wrinkling his nose. A little soft, too soft to serve on a plate. He shrugged, they'd be fine in a stew.

Franky's humming transitioned into whistling as he began cutting sloppy chunks of the various root vegetables. He didn't care and was enjoying himself. It was stew, one of the more affordable meals, people would eat it regardless. Getting to the onions, he found them to be particularly pungent, stinging his eyes as he tried to lean away from them, while still looking at them to chop them up. Once he was done chopping up the roots, he switched to the squishy tomatoes. He held one in place and tried to slice through it and managed to just squish it all over the table.

Franky held up his knife to his face, annoyed. He ran his finger down the length and found it wasn't sharp in the least bit. He'd have to run his knives down to the smith sometime, maybe tomorrow. Another errand. He sighed. He walked over to his knife block, grabbing the first one he laid eyes on. Stomping back over to the table, he was about to cut into the next tomato when he realized he was holding a serrated bread knife. He looked back over at his knife block, deciding it was too far away. Holding the tomato gently, he ran the knife through it and much to his surprise, found that the serrated knife worked much better. His lips formed a small 'o' as he worked through the tomato with ease and expedience.

Once the veggies were done, Franky walked over to the soup pot. The bones were only just now beginning to boil. They'd need to go for a while longer. Franky went over to his spices cabinet, grabbing the bags of salt, pepper and a bundle of parsley that was starting to go a little bit bad. He quickly chopped up on the parsley and stepped back out into his bar while the bones boiled. The Grackle had left and the bar was empty. He sighed. An empty bar was never a good omen, he was sure of it. He cleared the Grackle's table, and went about wiping down all of the tables.

Hopefully the evening would be really good.

Franky smiled softly over his bar. His bar. As he washed the dishes. He'd always wanted a tavern of his own when he was young, and now he had it. Part of him never thought he'd actually get it, he'd come from a poorer tribe, most people never even got a real house, let alone a business. But he did, and that kept the smile on his face as he put away the last dish and slipped back into the kitchen.

Using a heavy cloth, he pulled the pot off the fire, and drained it. Franky went about roasting the bones, nearly burning them in the process and sending up smoke from the butter. He then started boiling them to get the marrow and flavor out, and tossed all the vegetables in as well. Copious amounts of salt, pepper, and parsley followed. He grabbed a pan and heated it up, searing and occasionally charring, the chunks of meat he'd carved away for the stew. As they finished, he'd dump them into the pot. And soon, his stew was simmering, and he was content. Franky went about cleaning up his kitchen.

He slipped back out into the empty bar, pouring himself a flagon of the cheap, golden ale. Bringing it to his lips, he drank down a healthy draught, licking his lips after. This really was the life. No more needing to fight all the time, to kill or be killed. No need to worry about if his next meal might be splitting a rabbit among twelve people or not having any food at all. No, he had a shitty little tavern in a town that didn't want him.

And Franky loved every bit of it.

[Mirage]

Franky

Lores
1. Cooking: Poor people don't care how you chop your vegetables
2. Cooking: A serrated blade can cut tomatoes easily
3. Cooking - Recipe: Fungithal Stew
4. Business: Shmoozing the customers
5. Business: Run a clean establishment
6. Business: Don't waste almost bad ingredients

Loot: N/A
Injuries: N/A

Points 5