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Chapter 68

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Tavern Food

Steven rose from the grassy patch, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows as he brushed off his Stormgull Flyer set. The nap had cleared his head, the dream of his old, crippled life fading into the salty breeze. Curiosity tugged him back to town—he’d lived off guild grub, crab soups and flatcakes, but the Mistveil’s local cuisine called, a taste of this world beyond the hall. He aimed for The Salty Anchor, the tavern where he’d scammed that gruff merchant, its two-story bulk looming by the docks. The memory of the 5-gold hustle brought a smirk as he stepped inside, the clatter of mugs and fisherman’s banter filling the air.

He slid onto a stool at the bar, the wood worn smooth by salty hands. A halfling woman—short, curly-haired, apron tied tight—bustled over, her voice chipper. “What can I get ye, hon?” Steven leaned in, grinning. “What kinda food specials ye got? Somethin’ with a bit o’ price—somethin’ to tantalize my tastebuds, nothin’ I’ve had before.” She beamed, wiping her hands on a rag. “Got three beauties, 8 copper each—local flair, fresh as the tide. Here’s the lineup.”

Tavern Specials (8 Copper Each):

Kraken Tentacle Skewers

Thick, juicy strips of kraken tentacle—deep teal, charred crisp on the outside, tender within—skewered and grilled over an open flame. Brushed with a glaze of Mistvine Sap, sticky and tart, it clings to the meat, a coastal zing cutting through the briny richness. Served with a side of Glowcap Relish, a chunky mash of those blue-glowing mushrooms diced with seaflame peppers—earthy, spicy, a kick that dances on the tongue. A fisherman’s bold bite, nothing like guild slop.

Saltwolf Shank Roast

A slow-roasted hunk of saltwolf shank—silvery-gray meat, marbled with fat, falling off the bone after hours in a tidebone broth pot. Spiced with Ashroot Dust, smoky and deep, it’s plated atop a bed of Tidevine Greens, briny leaves sautéed in kraken oil ‘til they wilt crisp. A dollop of Siren Cream—pearly, tangy, whipped from siren scales—tops it, melting into the meat for a lush finish. Hearty, wild—a hunter’s feast he’d never tasted.

Mistbloom-Stuffed Eel

A whole eel—long, sinuous, caught fresh—slit open and stuffed with Mistbloom Petals, their nectar-soaked sweetness blending with minced Frostkelp, chilled and sharp. Roasted ‘til the skin crisps golden, it’s drizzled with a Glimmerstone Reduction, a shimmering sauce of crushed arcane stones and sea salt—subtle, electric, a flavor that pops. Served with Crabclaw Fritters, tiny balls of shore crab meat fried crisp, a crunchy side he’d not yet met. Floral, oceanic—a dish to linger over.

She tapped the bar, grinning wider. “And hon, to get the best of it—pair any o’ these with our Mistvine White Wine. Crisp, pale gold—made from them cliff vines, got a sweet bite and a cool finish. Cuts through the richness, lifts the spice—10 copper a glass, worth every bit.” Her eyes twinkled, waiting for his pick.

Steven’s mouth watered, the guild’s crab soup a distant memory—these were new, bold, a taste of the Mistveil’s soul.

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