Location: Crossed Swords Inn & Tavern
Interacting With: Sana, Nor, Femnal, The Scullery Crew (?)
Keystone had
just sat down when Sana made the request for him to get
back up and take over for the local cook on her behalf. This place didn't seem like the type of establishment that prepared meals "to order", unless one was very good friends with the owner or was willing to part with a disproportionate amount of currency. As it turned out, Keystone was, in fact, NOT very good friends with the owner. His last visit to this Inn & Tavern did not ingratiate himself to Femnal, nor his war profiteering former employer Cremwise. Admittedly, it
was his fault, more or less. But that was a subject best thought about at a later time.
He still didn't want to do it. Keystone would much rather have kept his posterior on his chair and gotten a bowl of whatever the scullery crew had scraped together. But apparently, that wouldn't quite be fair to his adventuring companion who was still on the mend, and unwilling to deal with food that was too solid. He sighed audibly.
"Yeah, bloody fine. I'm on it." Yeah, he didn't like it. But he was going to do it anyway. He nodded to the Dwarf at the table (why the arse did Sana insist on sitting here?), and remarked,
"Mind she don't start no 'eavy liftin', yeah?" The tricky part was trying to convince the owner. The diminutive Gnome, Femnal, seemed none to happy with the large man insisting that he be allowed access to his kitchen - again. Granted the first time was to repair a situation birthed of traveler's rations and overcooked turnips, delivered by way of his Styxian colon. The two of them entered into a short conversation in low tones, just out of earshot of the nearest of patrons.
For anyone paying attention to the muted dialogue, Keystone and Femnal went through a series of facial expressions hinting at shock, anger, bargaining, even betrayal. At one point, the Gnomish proprietor climbed onto a nearby barstool and leapt bodily upon the bar, intent on going for a short blade on his person and burying it into the broad man's eyesocket. Keystone responded by closing a ham-sized hand around the tiny antagonist's shoulder and rearing back a closed fist that promised potential bluntforce decapitation. The two combatants froze, exchanging more quiet words. Keystone looked very confused for a second or two, then relented with an exaggerated shrug and a nod of affirmation. He clicked a single coin onto the bar next to Femnal, and disappeared back into the kitchen area. What he saw shocked him.
Disarray. Heavy, nigh massive provisioning, stored all willy-nilly and in varying states of preparedness. The full suite of scullery staff that greeted him the first time around was curiously absent, replaced by a single man who looked as bewildered to be there as Keystone was to note the lack of staffing.
"Well. Bloody, Bacon-damned 'ell is all this, eh?" The only thing that appeared to be prepared in any decent amount was the stew from earlier. Stew, and some sort of local bread in large, unevenly cooked hunks. There were a couple wheels of cheese that looked like they had been inexpertly carved into, and a multitude of tools and kitchen staples that should have been carefully put away.
"Right. You obvious ain't got clue-sodding-one what's goin' on back 'ere, have ya? Pile a buncha crap into a pot, call it stew, didja? Nah, you're done for now. I'm gonna get something together for a good friend o' mine, and you... You're gonna tell me where I'm findin' half the stuff I needs to do it." At least the fire underneath the cooking irons were well tended.
But first things first. Keystone located a slab of what he thought was beef and cut off several steaks. He rubbed coarse salt and sage into them, along with a good, neutral oil, and set them in a heated pan upon the stovetop with a satisfying
Hisssssss. That would take the longest bit, the steaks were quite thick.
"Thought I saw a heap o' whole roasted 'tatos, yeah?" he mentioned to the lone cook still on Femnal's staff.
"Want you to take the skins offa several and put the white fleshy stuff into a mixin' bowl." The cook acquiesced to Keystone's demands. Slowly at first, but what he saw what the large, intimidating man was actually doing in his kitchen, he nodded at set to work. Meanwhile, the brawler was set a pot over the fire with moderate amounts of butter and good, thick cream. He likewise prepared a saucepot with brown poultry stock and began squeezing together a quick roux out of cool flour and melted butter. He paused for a moment to flip the steaks.
"Passin' sear. Couple minutes on th'other side, yet..." He cracked a number of eggs into the pan, salted the lot of it, covered, and transferred it into the oven proper.
In all, it didn't take but a few minutes' time. The majority of the long preparations were already done. This was more of an impressive construction and final dash of heat needed to bring everything together. And of course, with only two people working on everything, one of whom with requisite skills to perform the duties properly, no one got in their way and Keystone didn't have to wait for equipment to free up.
Keystone was nearing the end of his time in the kitchen. For Sana, he had prepared a lovely (if massive) portion of thick and creamy mashed potatoes, swimming in amber chicken gravy (flavored lightly with bacon fat and local herbs). There were many other items he prepared while the repast was cooking and resting, but the brunt of his effort and attention went into the simplest of items for the generally pissed-off gypsy lady. Potatoes and Gravy. Hard to mess up, but hard to perfect.
"Oy! You there!" he called to his involuntary assistant.
"This all's been paid for out front. Many thanks for the assist though, yeah? One of them steaks, three of them eggs, and a half loaf o' that bread's for you. Put the rest on platters, 'ceptin' those 'tatos. Them's for me to move." He looked again at the utter bounty of what Femnal had, far more than he needed with the reduced numbers in the town. Very likely, he had just located his spot to re-provision. The food was better set for a single location than for travelers' fare, but nothing he couldn't overcome with a bit more time in this room. For now, load up and get ready to cart everything out front. It should be much more than was expected, but there more people with him than just Sana and himself.
"...that ale better be waitin' on me..." he thought aloud.
