[ CW ] Create a fantasy world/society . Tell as much as you can about it through its cuisine .

`` In the third season of the Howling Sky, the Lord Regent himself decreed that a dish was to be prepared, a dish so vast and extravagant it would not soon be forgotten. Chefs from the three corners of the Isles came by ship or haversole to prepare their feasts for the king to try.'' 
 
 The host of the party enjoyed telling this tale to his guests, accentuating each embellishment with a flick of his goblet-clutching wrist. Flecks of Tyrium ale spattered on his cuffs but he was in full flow now. The audience were rapt for their part, watching and waiting and feasting with their eyes on the delights conjured before them. 
 
 `` The Lord himself did try every meal, for as many nights as the Chantelle sit in their cloud monasteries and pray, for as many days as the Tock-Tock bird takes to lay its slithering young. So many faces, so many dishes, and still the Lord was left disappointed.'' 
 
 A cruel man would jest at the Lord Regent's waistline after such an undertaking, but the sound from the oubliettes set into the circle around the Park could still be heard echoing in the night as the long-limbed guards patrolled. To draw their ire would be unwise, so the retort was left unsaid. 
 
 `` And then on the Fallow Night when the Howling gives way to the Dry-Boned season, and we all remember where that particular epitaph comes from, the Lord himself found the answer in the most unlikely of places. A street urchin, from the Dorsole peninsula.'' 
 
 `` Bah, no good'sole ever came from that vestibule of depravity.'' 
 
 `` Quiet Prickle my good man, or shall I have to let you tell the story.'' 
 
 The heckler quieted down and the host sipped at his goblet, holding it out to his side when his lips came back dry. A young girl, the tattoo etched above her right cheek marking her as a Dorsole herself, quickly filled her masters goblet. 
 
 `` This... this rat,'' the host continued, `` was collecting the scraps from the tables in between the servings, when the guards were too preoccupied with ensuring the next meal did not contain a poison or weapon within its depths.'' 
 
 `` A thief then!'' the heckler said. 
 
 `` A thief indeed. But an industrious one. He had combined the food he had taken, tearing the flesh of a Buttersnatch, crushing down some Oelech herbs ( and removing the cantraberries at their heart in a wise move ) and even, and here my fine guests I must assure you I do succumb to hyperbole, stringing Norturrri'as through a rats guts.'' 
 
 `` That's disgusting!'' 
 
 `` What a clever fellow!'' 
 
 `` How did he know?'' 
 
 `` Yes Ezmay, it sounds revolting I know but you should look to Jonak for the proper response as the boy has stumbled on a secret only those from Jonaks' Sleet Tower now of. That the best way to filter that horrible strands is through the gut of an animal. Genius. Simply genius. 
 
 `` Now the Lord Regent, he saw this boy, hidden between the casks and had his personal Praetorian remove the boy. It seems the Swallow forces are a bit... heavy handed when it comes to the apprehension of undesirables, but this onyx-clad man did swiftly catch the boy with little trouble and presented him before the Lord Regent. 
 
 `` Imagine yourself, a'sole from the arse end of the Isles, held before your new Lord Regent when you could hear your brothers and sisters and flantres moaning from the dungeons below. Well the boy, his fingers clutched at the wineskin containing his concoction and he handed it to the Lord himself!'' 
 
 `` He never!'' 
 
 `` The audacity!'' 
 
 `` Well the Praetorian very nearly removed the boys hands from his arms at this point. But the Lord Regent actually bent forwards and accepted the wineskin. He called forth for a bowl and emptied its contents and let his golden spoon play with the pale soup. 
 
 `` And then he dug deep and brought a spoonful to the boys lips. Obviously the boy swallowed. Even if it were pure cantra he would have swallowed it given the alternative. And the Lord, appeased, dug deep for a second time and took a tasting for himself. Imagine that, sharing the same spoon as a Doresole boy in the Ithinian Chambers!'' 
 
 `` And what did he do?'' 
 
 `` Did he spit it out?'' 
 
 `` Was it rancid? Rotten?'' 
 
 `` The king took for himself another. And another. He drained that first bowl like a boy possessed by the stomach of a Strumbeast. He let his advisors taste in petite portions from a second bowl, until they had the flavours and the textures in their mouths and were confident they could recreate the taste. 
 
 `` And thus, the dish of the Fallow Lord was born. A medley of the very best dishes from across the Isles.'' 
 
 `` And what of the boy?'' 
 
 The host smiled and sat, picking up his spoon and beginning to ladle from the large bowl sat astride the table. 
 
 `` Why, he was hanged of course. For stealing from the Lord Regent's table.''
