Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Deliciousness

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From Donk: The infamous Steel Von Ironblood will think twice about trying to best The Great And Powerful Donk Yauti from now on!


Eldwyn Road

The Eldwyn Road meanders continuously around hills, wilderness, and farmland, though it is occasionally broken by fingerlets from the great Tornmawr. At one point, the road crosses the Tornmawr itself, which takes place by use of a ferry.

Further east and past the ferry are the great Redridge Mountains. These mountains, which run mostly north and south, charge through the landscape, and even through the eastern end of the Lord's City of Alexandria.

Towards the south is the city, with its flags rising far above the walls. The fiery Rising Phoenix almost glows in the sunlight and airships may be seen both in flight and in dock, as they make use of a carefully sculpted section of the Redridge.

Towards the north, the landscape of rolling hills and farmland breaks into denser forest.


Lash gets a smile from Elycia. "Elycia Windrunner. I was given my last name on my way here, when my former master wished to give me a new life." She then walks to the back of the cart. "I dunno what I could do with some of these vegtables, but the potatoes I could wonders on. They were considered a delicacy where I came from." She says as she picks one up and actually examines it throughly. "You have some good ones here, Mister Stonesmith."

Cesran nods to Elycia, "Greetings to you as well. I am Cesran, a wizard from the Jade Islands. It's nice to meet you both." He says as they are standing outside of the gates talking in the cold to a winter vegetable vendor. "I prefer my potatoes in a stew in a warm tavern, with a green hornet."

"Steady... steady, Destroyer... steady... that's it! You are getting it! Well done!" An upturned lance bobs above the heads of the crowd, and there are yelps of surprise from pedestrians down the way as a gnome sitting atop a wolf with flapping paws... walks? down the road. The wolf looks particularly unhappy, walking like his paws are teflon on a freshly waxed floor. And looking more closely, it's obvious why: The wolf's feet are a good 4 inches above the ground, likely held up by the buzzing wings attached to the booties covering his feet. Poor thing looks miserable, but the orange-haired gnome atop him is grinning like a maniac. "Soon, the Donk shall be completely UNSTOPPABLE!"

Ormarr gives the khazad a mild look at the interruption, but seems to well-with-the-world (we mean, he probably already had a mushroom or two this morning) to mind overmuch. He reaches down and picks up one of the onions instead and turns it so it's in the center of his palm. He seems half-distracted for a moment as he replies, "Then I take it as such." He looks up then. "S'good fortune, thank tha spirits. There's tha Fest comin up and I was afraid the khazad would take tha trophy this year..." He gives Elycia and Cesran a nod, then frowns thoughtfully at the Veyshanti.

"I'm pleased you think so." Crimman taps his nose as Elycia looks that way. "I bought these late fall, they've been stored high an' dry since then. Khazad engineering, you know." That's how root vegetables are stored, of course. They do look well taken care of. As Donk and Destroyer make their way down, he gives a cluck of his tongue to the stonebeast, who raises its head...slowly. Crimman reaches over to take the harness. "Pardon me. Just felt a need to bring this here wagon a few more feet to the side."

Lumina is skipping down the road, heading back towards the city, a basket in her hands. She's smiling and humming as she returns to own, pausing just to wrap her cloak about her when the wind blows. As she sees Donk riding the wolf, her brows arch. She tilts her head, watching him curiously. Then, she smiles brightly o he otthers nearby, chirping, "Hello!"

Elycia smiles quietly to Crimman as he speaks to her. "If you wish, I could give you a taste on how just one of these things can satisfy even the most delicate palattes. Of course, I'll make a bowl just for you." The frown by Ormarr is missed as she speaks to the dwarf, but she looks to Cesran. "Greetings, wizard from the jade islands." But her greeting is interrupted by Lumina whom she waves to, but more interrupted by a floating dog (or wolf) with a gnome on it's back. She leans over conspiratorially to Ormarr. "I think that one too a few too many bricks to the head, then was hit by the wagon."

"....." is Lash's first reaction to the sight of a floating wolf, with a ginger gnome and a lance the size of a small tree. It is also her second reaction, the bard for once utterly lost for words. "...what is that? Do you see him also?" she asks Ormarr, as if she thinks she has daydreamed it.

"I see it," Ormarr says cheerfully. He squints at the pair, and, "Heya, Destroyer! He treatin' ya well?" He looks cheerfully at the wolf as he asks, and waves abstractedly to Lumina. He continues to turn the onion around in his fingers as he does. To Elycia, Crimman nods, "Oh, I'd love that. ...uh...just let me move my cart..." The merchant gives her his best smile before gripping the stonebeast's halter in a firm grip and...carefully beginning to move the cart just a little further to the side of the road.

Cesran frowns a little bit as he sees the flying wolf with the winged booties. "Excuse me." He moves over towards Donk, "Hello there Donk what have you got there?" He asks as he studies the obviously magical items on the wolf's paws.

Elycia simply rubs her face at Donk. "Oh....boy." She says as she steps out of the way of the dwarf and his movement of the cart. She drops the potato back into the cart. However, she watches Donk a little while longer.

Donk raises a hand and a broad smile to those gathered around. "Hello! The Donk sees you have come out to see the GLORIOUS arrival of him and his valiant steed! Yes yes, do not be afraid. This terrifying two-some may be intimidating in our obvious martial prowess--" Destroyer's legs flail wildly as one particular kick almost sends him off balance, and Donk has to grab hold of his saddle to stay on. "But we are as gentle as we are mighty!"

"... ... ...Donk, he says if ya makin' him wear them things, least ya could do is tell him where tha good beer is," Ormarr salutes the wolf with the onion, then sets the onion back into the cart as it moves away. "...Badger, ya leave him alone," this last comes with a warning tone to it. Cheerful, but warning, and the shaman hooks his thumbs into his belt. "...you goin' to tha Festival?" he asks Elycia.

The khazad continues to move his cart. While shooting looks at Donk.

Elycia nods quietly towards Ormarr. "I believe so." She says adjusting her boots a bit. She then tilts her head. "Who is badger?" She says quietly.

Cesran hmms, "I didn't know they made boots of Zephyr for wolves, but it seems that they do." He ahs a little bit, "I'm sure that doesn't sit well with the khazad. I'm sure that they will want to take it back." He hears the word stew and he looks back, "You know who has some great stew, the Fernwood pub."

Elycia says, "I've been to the festival before, My former master brought me to one a few years ago and saw how I enjoyed it, so he brought me to every festival since." She says softly before she looks back to Crimman. "Just potatoes. I don't need to use them in stews, they can be used in other dishes.""

"Destroyer is the first to have such a pair made for him. For he looked upon the state of magical shoes for wolves and said, THIS SHALL NOT BE!" Donk raises his voice, starting to shout. "HE BARKED! ONCE! FIERCELY! AND THE VERY NATURE OF MAGIC TREMBLED BEFORE HIM, ONLY TO REARRANGE ITSELF TO HIS LIKING!"

Crimman stares at Donk before yanking his eyes away. "Potatoes? Well, I've got some good ones here. ...Old Ruariardh grows'em. Have you ever had one of Old Ruariardh's potatoes?" he asks, conversationally as he reaches underneath the cart for a rucksack.

"...huh," Ormarr, too, yanks his stare away from Donk, and addresses Cesran and Elycia. "That's uh...well, I hope you'll enjoy it this year, then. What is it ya like about it? And Fernwood ain't bad," to Cesran. "I'm hopin' they put in this year. Whoever their main brewer is...s'good stuff, ya know?"

Elycia says, "It's the feeling when you're in the festival. Not just a drunken stupor, but the feeling of well-being. Of course, it's not just the beer, but the food that accompanies it. That is.....until the fighting starts.""

Cesran hmms, "Well they have horseshoes of zephyr so it wouldn't be too hard to use them for other animals, it just might take a bit more magic." He nods, "Yes they do although I myself prefer the green hornet they make there as opposed to their ales."

"Never had tha Hornet, m'self. What's it taste like?" Ormarr asks. He nods to Elycia then, and grins. "Used ta do some of that, m'self. Got old though, ya might say." He seems comfortable enough, the old shaman. He relaxes on the back of his heels. Crimman, meanwhile, fills the rucksack.

"For a creature like Destroyer?" Donk snorts. "To make shoes to contain his majestic foot power? It took a nation's wizards a YEAR of hard work to make these items!" Destroyer whines as he tries to stand upright, but his feet slooooowly slide out form under him... until he suddenly drops those four inches onto his belly.

Elycia nods quietly. "I bet if I met someone with a larger knowledge of spices than myself, I could make some better dishes. Not just from potatoes." She then looks at her hands. "I don't have a real good knowledge of nature though. Air Currents? I have a bit of knowledge there, just a small bit."

Cesran hmms, "It's a drink that they make that has some honeyed liquor and a lime peel, it's very good, although not for everyone. It appeals to most mages." He shrugs a little bit and he looks back at the shoes, "Really which nation would that be, you probably could have gotten them cheaper in the city. I know some people that do magical item work."

"Wager ya could. A good stew's always in demand, ya know? Specilly as cold as it's been." Ormarr replies. He looks over his shoulder and nods, then turns back. "A few weeks ago, we were haulin' snow down the main way up Pointe. ...probably coulda used somethin' like that," to Cesran's description of the drink. Ormarr, an older oruch in hide and tribal cloth, stands by the roadside with a Veyshanti human and a mage of some kind. Nearby, a gobb--a gnome sits asdride a wolf, who seems to be floating partway in the air. Down the road, a merchant stands, sorting through the items in his cart.

Donk sets his lance against the group. "Up, Destroyer! Up! The ground is not our enemy, stop trying to wrestle it into submission!" Destroyer whimpers, all four legs splayed out, eyeing the winged booties on his feet distrustingly. The wings are still... for now. However, when he tries to stand, suddenly the wings kick into motion again, simultaneously, and the wolf's feet flail about as he rises 4 inches of the ground again. AUGH SO WEIRD

This city was everything that Vidarr had heard it to be: a metaphorical mountain which had been carved and hued into walls, towers and castles of great size. So many people, so much to see... he felt clostraphobic his first few times entering and walking through its streets that he inevitably had to head out just to escape the feeling. And so, he would walk along the exterior walls, marvelling at the masonry. Though, this time returning towards the Eldwyn Gate, the young half-elf found something else to catch his eye: the gathered band of adventurers standing there just off of the road.

Wherever there is mischief to be had, it is inevitable that Jibbom will arrive. Opportunities call to him, and he answers. No other explanation is needed for the sudden appearance of the portly halfling in the filthy robes, grinning with exuberance as he waves to those gathered. "What is that I see? The mighty Donk, the fearsome Destroyer, and some miscellaneous associates?"

"Interest you in some good fare, sir?" the khazad by the cart calls out. His full beard, with its stray hairs and touch of static suggests some 'mornir in his ancestry. He dresses ruggedly but plainly, and looks very much the local, Alexandros merchant. Next to him is a card, with a stone beast (currently nibbling on roadside pebbles) attached to the harness. He also has a rucksack in one hand, which he holds up for the Veyshanti woman to see. "Your potatoes, miss. ...you send me a message next time you're thinkin' of making that stew, you hear?" he says cheerfully.

"Old stump-walker," the oruch mutters at the khazad, but it has the tone of friendship, because the merchant mutters back, "Tusk-knot."

"Hah! Beard-bum."

Vidarr continues to watch the interaction from a distance, hoping to dertermin enough of the gathering's character before deciding which way to travel in. They were an odd mix, something that he had never dreamed of growing up in his home which was dominated by Dranei. His eyes then turn to focus on the small cart, and he feels his stomach rumble in response. Yes... it had been a while since he had something to eat. Confident that the band posed little, after all, Dran was a dangerous land where one learns to keep up one's guard, harm to him, Vidarr apporaches the Khazad and his cart.

"Snort-dogger," replies the merchant. He grins as the half-sildanyari steps up, then blinks again as he sizes the man up. "Root vegetables, potatoes...all fresh. Harvested lately, or stored in th' finest khazad tradition." Which is how root vegetables are stored in the winter--place them in a cool, dry place, and eat them throughout. He holds up a squash for the man to investigate, then raps it across the side with his knuckles, showing it to be ripe and ready for cooking.

"Howdy there," from the oruch, but no more than that, not yet. He's glances back towards the woods again--or at least what passes for them. Shrubs, that slowly emerge towards the height of trees, further back from the road. The heavier woods don't begin until the north of here.

Cesran watches the poor wolf, "Are you sure that's really a good idea Donk I mean wolves were not made to fly. Perhaps you should working with him some before you ride him into battle with those booties of zephyr on. I know it took me a while to master flight even after I knew the spell."

Vidarr meets the merchant's gaze headlong and does not immediately answer him. The Dranei knew when he was being sized up by someone... he had spent a lifetime observing such back at home. He wouldn't balk, would not step back, nor be intimidated, even in this new enviornment. "Potatoes and onions," Vidarr finally requests.

The oruch receives a sideways glance from the half-sylvanori and a nod of acknowledgement, but nothing more. Not yet, anyways...

"PFAH!" Donk laugh/cough/snorts/hiccups at Cesran's remark. "The laws of the universe are not Destroyer's master! He is learning to make them his bitch, just fine!" Destroyer whimpers pitifully, shaking his backleg, which sends him skittering into unstability again.

Badger, ya get outta there!" Ormarr calls out. He looks over, "See ya around, eh?" he says, and then rolls his shoulders and heads out towards the wooded area. And then, for some inexplicable reason, starts to run... "Badger!"

The merchant nods to Vidarr, and holds up a number of onions, potatoes, for Vidarr's inspection. Then, he begins to place them in a rucksack for the man for easier travel. "Three coppers," he says.

Vidarr gives a nod back towards the dwarf and produces the three coins from a small pouch resting on his belt. The pair make the exchange, and Vidarr gives an additional nod before turning to watch the oruch charge off into the woodland suroundings. It would seem some traits civilization could not counter train. Throwing the sack over his right shoulder, the half-elf turns towards the gate and starts into the city.

Jibbom bounds forward, apparently intent on somehow meddling in Donk and the Destroyer's business for no discernable reason. But then, as is so often the case, the halfling is easily distracted by the promise of food. He spins and abruptly changes direction to make a beeline for the merchant. "Shopkeep! Behold! It is I, Steel Von Ironblood, Bane of the Night, come to sample your wares. Rejoice! Display unto me your most delicious items."

"What??" Donk looks up as Jibbom charges off towards that merchant, narrowing his eyes. "No, Steel Von Ironblood, your rival the Great and Powerful Donk Yauti shall receive that merchants MOST DELICIOUS items! FORWARD DESTROYER! CHAAAARGE!" Donk surges forward with his lancetip, leaning in with his saddle... As Destroyer caaaarefully climbs to his feet, scrabbles a bit, and starts to inch forward carefully on his new boots.

Cesran takes a step back to watch what's going to happen when the two ego's clash together. He winces as Destroyer is inching forward, "Well this should be interesting." He nods to Donk about making the laws of the universe his mount's bitch, "Good luck with that Donk."

Jibbom looks back at Donk with obvious worry. "What is this? A rival for deliciousness approaches? And it is the fearsome Donk, Steel Von Ironblood's best friend and greatest rival! Shopkeep, make haste! Bring forth the deliciousness!"

"Destroyer! Faster faster faster! The deliciousness is in sight!" Donk bounces in his saddle, only making Destroyer wobble more dangerously, slowing his progress. It's like watching a frantically flailing tortoise racing.

Cesran follwos after to see how this battle will end and he whoas as Destroyer wobbles dangerously. He slows down so he doesn't pass Destroyer. "So is the shopkeeper selling anything besides vegetables?"

What the shopkeeper is actually selling has become secondary to the impending conflict in Jibbom's eyes. He stares out at those approaching with an expression of grim resolve. "So! You employ your minions against me as well, Donk? Well, Steel Von Ironblood will not surrender his deliciousness so easily!"

"The Donk will wrest that deliciousness from your hands himself, if that's what it takes!" Donk calls to Jibbom. Destroyer finally gets his feet under him, and starts picking up speed, heading directly towards the cart. But then he tries to stop. ... It's not happening, and the wolf and his oblivious rider go careening towards the halfling and cart.

Cesran can't help himself as he falls over in the snow laughing as the wolf and donk go careening towards the cart. He laughs and watches as he waits for the crash.

Jibbom realizes what is happening all too late. "Donk, no! There is enough deliciousness to share! Don't destroy Steel Von Ironblood's treasures in a jealous rage! NOOOOOOOOOO....." Somehow, Jibbom ends up stumbling backwards into the cart, perhaps in a poor attempt at dodging the 'charge'.

Through some kind of ridiculous luck, Jibbom's stumbling causes the cart to swivel on its wheels, turning it out of the way of the charging Destroyer. Mount and rider skid past the cart, crashing loudly (but harmlessly) into a stack of empty crates near the edge of the square. "CURSES!" Donk yells.