Location: Grand Ballroom
Attire: Starry Night Attire
Interactions @CitrusArms Stratya @Infinite Cosmos Munir
Mentions: n/a

---

A look of realization dawned upon his face when he realized that he had indeed excluded the knight-captain. "Oh!" Askel exclaimed before he turned his focus to his friend. "My apologies Stratya, I had no intention of leaving you out of the conversation; it is not often that I get to use my Gazalian." Now it was his turn to give her a sheepish, apologetic smile.

"But yes, she is correct. Just a sip of wine or water would do the trick. Now, let's continue."

His gaze searched the table's contents of his regional foods. Since Munir politely refused the gravlax, perhaps cured foods were not an option though were plenty of options. In fact, the sight of something familiar caused a small smile to crawl along Askel's lips.

"To answer your question, I resided in Alidasht for quite some time and as a consequence I learned from the Gazali locals." Askel had not turned around to answer him as he grabbed a pair of plates and began to plate their samples. "I've told Stratya this, but when I was knighted, I decided that I needed to experience the world away from the shelter that my title as prince afforded me. So, I ventured and I learned. I learned a lot." He chuckled and yet it was oddly humorless.

There was no ill-placed grandeur in his tone or any sense of gravitas or self-importance. He did not speak down on fellow knights or even other royals. Askel spoke with a genuineness only found in someone that believed in the purpose of his being.

He turned his head back to look back at Munir with a halfcocked grin. "Of your kingdom's many languages, I am most well-versed in Gazali. I can engage in polite conversation in Saharan and Haratese, but Kimoonese and Sakuran... Well, I can get by."

Askel swung around and held out the two plates. "This perhaps may be more agreeable with you. I am certain that you will find this enjoyable too, Stratya." In his hands he held two plates filled with cuts of red meat garnished with a dark purple jelly and on the side were potato pancakes fried to golden crispy perfection. On the side was a neat pile of sliced pickled beets. "In Varian we pair Lingonberries, a kind of berry that grows in our kingdom, with various dishes. By the looks of it, venison."

---

Starry Night ball

Location: Grand Ballroom

"It's less that I am carefree and more that I wish not to interfere in her life. So, for now, I am standing by the sides."

”Fareed! It is good to be seeing you cousin! What brings you all the way here from home, eh?”

There was a certain air around his distant cousin as he entered the room, something heavy. Not like rain, but like a blanket. Comfort that is hard to shed. What reason that could be was clear to the man, enforced by the feathery touches and chaste kisses shared between them.

The Danrose princess, striking as the images Fareed had seen of her if perhaps a tad bit more delicate. He had not believed the scattered rumors he had heard of their relationship, but it would seem it exists. In what state is harder to discover from mere observation.

As politeness would dictate, he is quiet upon their approach and introduction. Leaving Magnus in a breath a silence that could prove awkward had another not filled it so readily.

”You would do well to remember my duties cousin. I follow behind Ranya and mine other siblings wherever they may go, and they have found themselves here. Not to mention it was an opportune time to discuss with our other family members of their… many errors in conduct and the dangers they have put themselves through.” There is a pointed stare from his amber eyes, as if he was trying to peel back what layers made up the man known as Farim.

Time: Midnight, ??? Days before Ball
Location: Somewhere in Varian

Strong, violent winds whipped through the trees that shrouded the old, worn cabin that sounded like the wailing of a banshee as it pierced the dilapidated structure. It was only the thunderous downpour of rain that managed to muffle them from inside the cabin where it dripped from cracks in the roof and ceiling. The forest outside had always had numerous rumours of wandering spirits that drifted through the dense fog that so often covered the ground. They would lure people further in with soft whispers and sweet promises only to never return. Those who found themselves lost in the forest often reported unnatural screams and howls of either laughter or pain further in. Tonight, however, there was a very clear cause of such noise.

Owens was a young and promising witch-hunter plying his trade in the kingdom of Varian. He had a rugged appearance from growing up on his family’s farm, but no one would hardly call him a handsome fellow. It depended on the person whether his accumulated scars would improve or lower that fact. Owens more than made up for the fact by his pure size, an ogre of a man some would say. That worked more in his favor than the simple intimidation factor. Too many would underestimate him and believe him to be an ignorant buffoon who would only know how to hit things hard.

He was deceptively clever and could pick up skills and knowledge quickly if taught. It was this more than his brawn that brought him into the profession he found himself in. Magic was evil and needed to be purged. There was nothing more absolute than this in Owens’ mind. He had been witness to what horrible acts the wielders of such profane power could do right before he crushed their spine. It haunted him nearly every other night. Owens had done some light mercenary work until he could find himself a mentor. He worked and studied diligently under his master until it was time for him to set off on his own.

That brought him here to this godforsaken place in the middle of this cursed forest. Heavy iron cuffs on his feet and wrists, his arms and legs bound tightly to a bulky chair in the middle of the main living space. He had been celebrating with some new friends at one of the many pubs in the city after three successful hunts without injury. It felt like he was just hitting his stride and was on his way to becoming a master of his craft. Things had been going well for him. It was this arrogance that blinded him to the wiles of the gorgeous woman that led him upstairs to his room. All he could recall was her climbing onto his lap and there was blackness.

”Oh, yay! I was worried that the mixture was far too potent! You are such a big guy, aren’t ya? What a relief!” An airy, far too energetic voice came just in front of him but the blindfold stopped him from seeing them. It didn’t matter. He knew that voice and he growled into the coarse rag that was used as a gag. Owens did his best to pull against his bindings but found something shard biting into the flesh of his arms.

”I hope that pretty little brain of yours isn’t fried!” The woman’s voice exclaimed in mocking concern and he felt the tip of a slender finger curl from his jugular to the back of his neck as she whispered into his ear with eagerness. ”Because rabid dogs need to be put down.” A tinkling laughter got farther away with her footsteps, but it did little to stop the shiver down his spine.

His anxiety only surged when he heard the clear sound of metal clinking against each other as the woman began to hum some kind of children’s song on repeat. What had he done to deserve this? Who had sent this psychotic freak after him? What he was doing was for the good of the nation, no, the whole world! Why?

Owens did not get a further chance to question his terrible misfortune when he heard and then felt her footsteps get closer. He winced in pain, closing his eyes as a sharp blade sliced from his nose to between his brows. The tension of his blindfold fell as blood trickled down the angles of his face, but he could see now. It was indeed the same woman as before. Now she wore a full black leather suit of armor. There was a feminine mask that covered her face. It was divided black and white with the eyes and lips opposing colors.

”Oops!” She spoke with a joyful tone as she straddled his lap bringing the blade of the curved dagger to his cheek and dragged it slowly along the skin causing Owens to grit his teeth. ”It seems like the numbing effect is starting to wear off…” The woman's body expressed a pout that would have been cute in any other circumstance. She was toying with him. He had never done anything in his life to this girl! Once more he tried to use his strength to shift his binding, but again they found no leverage and the sharp pain cut further into his arms.

Out of nowhere she leaned close enough he could smell the floral scent of her hair and lifted the mask enough to lick the cut on his cheek. She fell back with a satisfied hum and shivered on his lap, the mask covering her full face again. ”Oooh, there is still a bit left it seems.” The woman giggled again as she crawled slowly off him giving a gaze of hunger, and not of the kind he had hoped for. He couldn’t even be sure she had actually felt something when she tasted his blood or was just messing with him further.

She brought her hands together in a clap that echoed in the cabin. ”It is time to get started, I think. I cannot be out all night after all.” The woman spoke as if he had been stupid enough to disagree with her on that. His eyes desperately flicked from wall to wall of the cabin desperate for anything that might get him out of this…but there was nothing. Owens had not kept his eyes on the woman in his panic upon realizing the helplessness of his situation. ”Oh my, would you look at those nails! You have to take better care of your appearance.” Owens had just turned his head back to look at her in time to express his confusion when terrible agony shot up from his right hand. His cry was muffled into his gag as he thrashed his head back and forth at the now missing pointer finger. ”Looks like you are going to have a hard time giving directions. Aw, but now it's all uneven…let's fix that!”

His body shook with the pain as he struggled to keep awake. Bloody stubs were all that were left on the right hand. Owens had a faint hope that maybe it would cause him to bleed out before she could do whatever else she had planned, but just as she finished she put some kind of powder on it that stemmed the bleeding. The tight bindings meant all he could do besides wail into the cloth gag was squirm in place.

”You poor thing, you’re shivering! Let me get the fireplace started for you.” The woman cooed softly brushed his short-cut brown hair to the side yet all it did was set the pit of despair further in his stomach. Yellow and orange embers gave life to the old fireplace at the heart of the cabin as the woman seemed to work it with some familiarity.

She walked back to him after sliding something deeper into the firepit with some kind of iron rod. Did she want something from him? Information? Gods above he hoped that was it and he could somehow get his freedom, but she didn’t seem keen on letting him speak just yet. Her leather-gloved hand gripped his chin firmly and she seemed to examine him closely, looming over him with a menace that was replacing her previously bouncy energy. ”Now…something needs to be done with this disgusting mug of yours…

The razor sharp edge of her blade cleanly sliced through the soft flesh of his ear, taking her time. Owens tried to thrash and pulled his head away, but all it resulted in was a rougher cut and nicks all over his neck and side of head. Tears fell from his eyes as he let out pained sobs. A bitter mixture of the agony from the disfigurement and the loss of hope he would be leaving this wretched place alive.

She stood back up and crossed her arms, the dagger twirling in her left hand. ”Hmm, I do not think that is quite enough. There is so much to correct. Ah, I think I know! You witchhunters adore your fire!” The woman skipped back over to the fireplace and Owens gave one last, desperate attempt to free his arms from the bindings. Whatever sharp object that had been cutting his arms sliced deep as he pushed. The more he tried to forced it to give, the more his arms became immobilized.

A chiding tsking came from the woman as walked with a sway to her hips back in front of him. Metal tongs held a white-hot metal mask far away from her, her hand covered in a thicker glove. ”I had this made just for your Owens Fairfield. It is time that the vile darkness in your heart matches the rest of you.” There was not more playfulness in her tone as she gripped a full hand of his hair and tore it back and brought the burning mask down on his face, uncaring it was properly seated.

Owens screamed until the heat burned his throat and lungs. The last sight of the woman he had before his eyes popped like overdone eggs was crimson hair and crimson lips that smiled at him. The one mercy he had was falling unconscious before he inevitably passed out from the scorching pain and her wicked blade as it carved him up further.

The woman wiped her forehead as she interred the remains of her latest offering next to the only marked grave on the property. She lowered herself onto the wet, muddy ground with legs crossed, reaching out and placing a tender hand on the rough stone. ”I hope you enjoyed this one, grandfather. I am going to be gone for sometime and I wanted to make sure you had something to lift your spirit.” Drops of tears mixed with the pouring rain as she let out a small laugh at her terrible joke.

She stood up once more and didn’t bother wiping the mud that clung to her legs and back. ”Do not worry. I will not forget your last wish while I am away. They will suffer. I will make every last one of them beg before I send them your way. Take care….grandfather.” Her somber voice was the last note that broke the storm’s chorus as she vanished into the haunted woods.

Location: Grand Ballroom
Attire: Attire: Starry Night Attire
Interactions: @Redking0380 Fareed @Lava Alckon Farim @princess Anastasia

---

Not even a response from the tall man. Well, they would probably be talking in circles anyway.

Magnus just stood there sipping his wine, not particularly sure how or if he even wanted to prolong the conversation between him and this severe stranger. However, his gaze followed the man's and noticed a pair was heading towards their direction. Wasn't that one of the Shehzades and was he escorting the princess of Caesonia? They seemed very familiar, for lack of a better word, and not by casual passing though he was not one to make assumptions about relationships or make it his business.

At least the Shehzade was much more pleasant. Magnus returned his bow with an elegance that betrayed his large form. "Not at all. Your presence is most welcome."

The only thing he could was to just stand there and silently watched as the two cousins interacted. So, the man he's been talking too was named Fareed. He seemed very much like a busy body, poking his nose into his family's personal lives though to a degree he was correct to do so. They were royalty; relationships that they chose and cultivated had to be vetted lest a snake would be invited into their midst. Still, he could only imagine how much his own sisters would hate him if he were to hover around them so.

Magnus glanced down at Farim's hand and took it for a firm handshake, sporting a polite smile. "Lord Magus Pawonska of Irinaburg, a town in the Brustad region of Varian. If I heard the herald correctly, you are Shehzade Farim. A pleasure to meet you." He shifted his gaze down at the princess and then bowed to her. "It is lovely to meet you too, your highness."

He offered her a kind smile. Magnus had wanted to offer her his condolences for the execution of her mother, but there were too many prying eyes and ears. Expressing sympathies for the death of a witch even if she were her mother would have drawn unnecessary attention to himself and by extension his family. People talk and rumors spread like plagues, so the best he could offer her was that smile and hoped that the princess could read that much into such an unassuming expression.

"I hope you both are finding this night agreeable. I must say, it is an impressive sight; it's comparable to Brenoven Castle." Magnus stated with a general sweeping motion of his hand.

color:ffce00
-Grand Ball Room-
-outfit-
-Interaction:@Remram Askel @CitrusArms Stratya-

Munir nodded as Askel and Stratya both clarified that a palate cleanser was a simple offering to remove the taste of the previous dish from one's tongue. Water, wine, some sort of fruit perhaps. Munir grabbed a glass of wine from nearby, to act as his palate cleanser, even though he has not taken any food since his arrival at the ball. Wine was always welcome to Munir...

"Ah an adventurer among us. That's very interesting of you. I suppose I never thought of doing that. I found that marauding through my country's various sights and sounds were enough for me to open my eyes. But I like your idea better. But, if we're being honest, isn't that what we're all doing here? Those of us not from Caesonia that is. Traveling to a new land, seeing what we can find?" Munir quipped, taking a small sip of wine at the end.

When Askel offered a newly assembled plate with meat, fruit jelly, and some sort of fried flat thing, Munir took the plate graciously. "Venison... That's deer, is it not? It is not often we're given deer, outside of hunting season. I will say, deer meat can be a little game-y if prepared poorly. Though I'm sure the royal cooks took their utmost care as to not waste nature's bounty. And what is this Lean Gon berry. I don't think I've had that back home... Munir took a fork, dabbing it into the purple jelly and brought it to his nose, then his lips. The blend of sweetness and the pleasant backing of a certain tartness was most welcoming. Perhaps even more welcoming than the astringency of the wine. "Mmm! Interesting. This is quite nice. Please, join me in eating!" Munir extended an 'invitation', as it if was his to give, before trying other the other offerings on his plate with less caution.

Knight Devout
Captain Stratya Durmand

Time: 10th Ignis, Evening
Location: Castle Ballroom - Starry Night Ball
Attire: Military Dress
Accent: Thick Scottish
Interactions: Askel @Remram, Munir @Infinite Cosmos
Mentions:

A tired expression slipped through as Stratya brought her attention to Askel’s apology. The sight of the King and no Queen, the sight of Wulfric, had made her remember how everything was falling apart, crumbling around her. She would have meditated on sundown, it would have helped her play the part, but doing so was too risky. Witch hunters were everywhere, they’d surely notice something about her. Her expression softened as she observed Askel’s apology and she shook her head, "s'fine."

Askel gave Munir a brief description of his journey across the kingdoms. Indeed, he’d described it to her before. Had she returned the gesture? The lady knight couldn’t remember, it seemed an age ago. It wasn’t something she liked to talk about, either, though she knew it was supposed to help.

Munir’s comment about their reasons for travel drew a chuckle that had been darker and dryer than Stratya had intended. The severity in her tone vanished before she spoke, replaced with a deep weariness that she tried to wipe away, “Would that eitherr of ourr jourrneys had been as whimsical as yeh make it sound, Shezade..” Captain Durmand accepted the first course graciously and took a deep whiff, letting the sweet and savory scents uplift her before she spoke again, her tone softened, if still somber, “I’ll nae spoil the mood, howeverr.”

The lady knight watched Munir take his bite and be pleased, before he urged her to experience it with him. She had already taken a cut of the meat on her fork, “aye, it’s deerr.” The man's pronunciation of the berry was close enough, she’d let Askel explain more about it. She lifted the cut in cheers, and raised it toward her lips, “anyone that cannae cook deerr prroperly should nae be a rroyal chef, doan you think?” She’d done her best not to spill any of the garnish before she popped it into her mouth.

Her face brightened at the taste. One of the things she had enjoyed in her travels had been the food and the drink. “Mm,” she hummed, her eyebrows lifting. The taste, the sauce, was familiar. Her fork gestured gently at the rest of the meat on her plate and she wanted to speak, though she first took the time to enjoy the current morsel before committing her mouthful, “I’ve tasted this, the sauce. Nearr the borrder. Mm, that’s good.” The aftertaste was satisfying, too.

Stratya cut a piece of the potato pancake and offered, “that sauce is delicious.” The piece of pancake went on her fork and was lifted, “I think,” she bit it, and hummed thoughtfully as she chewed before she cleared her mouth and gave her answer, “it’d go grreat on frresh rribs, with some eggy toast n’ jam or butter.” She cut another piece of the potato pancake and put it on top of one of her cuts of meat, adding, ”and a pint of mead, of courrse,” before she had her next mouthful. She seemed quite pleased with it, and took a slice of the pickled beets on her fork to try next.

Location: Grand Ballroom
Attire: Starry Night Attire
Interactions: @CitrusArms Stratya @Infinite Cosmos Munir
Mentions:@Tae Ranya

Askel maintained his ever friendly smile though he could not deny the tinge of disappointment that tugged at him in response to Munir's careless assessment. It failed to surprise him, of course. The Shehzade was not the first to be sheltered by their own country's strife and he certainly woule not be the last. However, he held no resentment towards him. Perhaps if the opportunity presented itself Munir would see his point of view. That was the hope he held for a member of his beloved's family.

Stratya though had a much more darker tone with him, friendly as she tried to be. One of these days they needed to sit down in a quiet place with some drinks and share their tales of woe.

"Perhaps a proper talk of our respective journies would be welcomed, under more appropriate circumstances. You would be welcomed too of course Munir." Askel suggested with a polite smile.

That polite smile would turn into one of great satisfaction.

"Stratya is correct, it's something that you can only get in the north. Lingonberries are a delicacy that can only be found in the northern mosy regions." He explained like the proud ambassador of his country. "We typically eat it with meat and savory foods, typically meatballs or what some would call a blood sausage but we do eat it on bread and with oatmeal too."

As he gave his brief lecture, his eyes for the briefest of moments caught a flash of chartreuse that found his violet eyes. For just that moment he had caught her stealing a glance of his figure, a gesture that made his heart race and a light blush bloom across his cheeks. For that moment he shared with her a smile, brief as it was, that reached his eyes filled with yearning.

Casually he turned away to break his line of sight of her. His attention was partially brought back to the Varian table. The rest was filled with thoughts of her.
"But as a proud resident from Breoven, I would be remiss to not talk about our bratwurst and sauerkraut, sausage and fermented cabbage. The prince stated as he began to plate up more food.

color:ffce00
-Grand Ball Room-
-outfit-
-Interaction:@Remram Askel @CitrusArms Stratya-

"Ah, forgive me, dear captain. I did not mean to provoke or offend. And you, Askel. I merely meant that I have not seen much outside of my home country, and assumed that those of us not originally from Caesonia to be here for that same reason, to open our eyes to the world outside of the grounds we grew up on." Munir said, having eaten most of what Askel had plated for him and is now taking a small sip of the wine he grabbed to wash everything down.

"Mead. That is....a honey beverage, is it not? Fermented honey and water..? I've had that, but not often so if the occasion arises, please share some with me, captain Durmand." Munir said, offering a genuine smile and a small nod before turning to poke around the offerings on the Varian table.

"Askel. Is there anything else on this table that is worth a try? What else can you educate me on? The lean-gon berry and venison was a treat. I am interested in what else you have to offer. What is this...sour-krout" Munir said, eyes brimming with excitement that hasn't been there for some time. Munir also took a small moment to look up, gaze softening, towards Nora.

Who was she. He feels drawn to her. He wants to excuse himself from present company and return to her side, to occupy all of her time, to learn about her. Her home, her family, her history, her likes, dislikes, and her desires with life itself.

In his own gazing and thinking of Nora, Munir had missed the fleeting exchange between Askel and Ranya...

Location: Grand Ballroom
Attire: Attire: Starry Night Attire
Interactions:@Lava Alckon Drake @princess Gideon

---

Nolan stood there silently listening to his father's reassurances knowing full well that the man was struggling himself. The incident at the tavern and now the blatant murder of the queen must have weighed heavily on his mind jusy as much as it weighed on Nolan's. All he wanted to be for the man that he could proudly call father was to be a as much of a pillar of support for the duke as much as he was for him.

"That goes without saying. I won't let anything happen to them." Nolan affirmed with a solemn expression. Never again he would let anything happen to his siblings. The way he rushed to see them when he first learned of the incident and the fear that battered his heart was never to be repeated again.

As if thinking about his siblings would will their presence into being, Nolan turned his head in response to someone grabbing his shoulder. A light relief washed over him to see that Drake was up and in good spirits.

When asked about the party. Nolan shrugged with indifference. "By the looks of it, some cultural exchanges between foreign delegates but nothing of note yet." If they were lucky then it would stay that way.

Nolan eyed his brother, scanning him from head to to. A teasing smirk cracked along his face. "I'm surprised that Lady Thea is not attached to your hip. Imagine my shock to learn that you had actually gotten the courage to court her. One of the planets must be in retrograde."

Knight Devout
Captain Stratya Durmand

Time: 10th Ignis, Evening
Location: Castle Ballroom - Starry Night Ball
Attire: Military Dress
Accent: Thick Scottish
Interactions: Askel @Remram, Munir @Infinite Cosmos
Mentions: Ranya @Tae, Nora @HylianRose

She’d come across as too severe. “Water frrom a duck’s back, Shezade. It was nae my intent tae.. seem..” she considered her wording briefly, “disgrruntled or upset. I simply,” she started, but stopped herself and shook her head. “Nevermind. Please, worry not, Shezade.” Askel’s suggestion caught her attention, and some part of her knew what she needed. She spoke before she could think about it too much, “yes, that sounds well. Soon.”

Stratya had her mouth full of her last morsels when Munir echoed her mention of mead. Her gaze came to him quickly, expression considerably lighter than her tone had been previously. She hummed once or twice through her mouthful and flagged down a servant, finishing this course of the Varian Sampler Meal as the servant approached, “would you poke ‘round, see therre’s any of the Durmand Mead about?” The servant scuttled off, and Stratya turned back to Munir,”ye might just be in luck, Yerr Highness, we shall see. My steward likes tae surprrise me by making deliverries wherreverr I’m going. From my perrsonal supply.”

“Blood sausage? Ye must forgive me, but that does not sound appetizing. Tell me it has another name?” Surely, that wasn’t the original name of it, or at least someone had come up with a better one at some point. Had to. But, another thought occured to her, “hmm.. hey Askel, let me askel you a question.” Did you just make a pun? Captain Durmand did not acknowledge it, though she was not unaffected, “do ya think I could get my hands on some lingon berry honey? I know Sean’d be keen on making mead from it.” The gaze she met Askel with was that stubborn kind of gaze that just wanted to move on from a goof.

Aaah, but Askel had missed her pun and, quite possibly, her question. The captain turned to see what had captivated the Knight-Prince so, only to find a gorgeous princess that had arrived the previous day, and what she was wearing! The captain felt her own cheeks flush, as well, as she turned back around. Askel worked quickly, indeed. She shot him an impressed look as she returned to the conversation, but he was turned around and plating more food for them. “Ferrmented cabbage? I suppose I’ll try it, at least..” Hearing the words had erased the blush from her cheeks, but she couldn’t help noticing that Munir was also rather distracted. She followed his gaze to find another woman. Ah hah. A couple of love struck fools, was it?

She looked between them a devious smirk touched her, “so, how long have you two been seein’ each otherr?” She didn’t ask either of them in particular, hoping to get an answer from both men simultaneously.

Location: Grand Ballroom
Attire: Starry Night Attire
Interactions @CitrusArms Stratya @Infinite Cosmos Munir

The relief that Askel felt to know that he was facing away from Stratya and Munir when she asked him that question was overwhelming for his cheeks had taken on a hue similar to his hair. He did not need to face her to know that she bore an evil grin because she could not be oblivious to the fact that a member of Ranya's family was standing right next to her. It was even likely that Munir was even one of her many protective brothers, not that she would know.

In some ways, it would have been easier to just come out with it and tell Munir that he and his sister were pursuing each other though it would have been abrupt. It certainly would have been unfair to Munir to lay it all on him. Ranya wanted to be the one to tell them when she was ready and above all else he wanted to respect her wishes.

"I'm not sure who you are referring to," said the prince. "I'm simply enjoying the pleasing countenance of so many women tonight. It is just that some are more... striking."

Askel turned around with two more plates in hand, this time with handsome sausages and a side of finely shredded cabbage with a sour smell. "Sauerkraut is cabbage fermented in salt, a condiment we use to cut through the flavors of fat and meat. It pairs perfectlh with sausage." He flashed Stratya a cheeky grin. "Not blood sausage, to your relief. I imagine it would offend the senses of most here. No, just your typical fair of bratwurst."

He chuckled and then with a playful grin said, "Now if we had some Varian ale then we'd have a real party but alas the trifecta cannot be completed. I guess I'd just have to invite you two for an authentic Varian beer hall experience when this is over."