Loyal Mergwin

Leave us! My great master needs time to reflect, and I must ponder on flavours anew!

Aaaahh. What’s this? The rasher of a courier, tied up tight! I can see its fat still dripping fresh!

This stew, of Mossberries stirred thick. Good. Good! It shall form the base once set in mould.

Seek out a Pickled Muckmaggot, the sacred treat revered and reviled for its intensity. It was a specialty of the chef Lugoli, long ago banished for culinary sacrilege.

Rumours sing that the great chef retreated to their home-caves in the dank midlands below...

Hornet

With this I have fulfilled my promise, sir. The ingredients have all been delivered. I trust now the meal can be made, and the oil awarded for my efforts?

You’ll have your oil, whelp! Firstly learn some patience! The dish must be prepared perfectly, enough to rouse my master and see them sated.

Now! Permit me to work my skill, and you’ll stand to see a meal of scent and taste that would dazzle Pharloom in her prime!

Hrm? Oh, ‘tis merely the livid red bug. I was expecting some word from those above to explain the meaning of all this rumbling and shaking.

They fail in their holy duties! My master must be shielded from such inconveniences, else their digestion be disrupted.

Hornet

There are worse fates than indigestion, sir. You are fortunate to be unharmed.

Fortune has nothing to do with it. I am simply of a hardier breed than the insipid young servants of these recent, wretched times!

For a sweet simmer, find me some Vintage Nectar. A rare brew, treasured by bugs with a keen scent for excellence.

There’s slim chance such an old yield might still exist. Alas! Its depth of flavour is a necessity for the holy dish!

For the core of the meal, find that marvellous meat... The rasher of a courier, those spritely bugs who once arrived at the toll of every second bell.

I saw many a courier gorge upon this fatty snack. Where are they all? Have they abandoned their holy toil?

The master has a mighty endurance, yet all of this rumbling and breaking makes me fearful for their safety.

Fear not. I will stay by their side until my old shell crumbles away.

The nectar! To think, such an aged extract still exists! What an exquisite tragedy that I cannot taste it myself. My master must have every drop!

Taste, smell, texture... It is done! A meal to rival Pharloom’s finest.

Mighty master, how long you have waited to set your jaw upon so perfect a dish! Join us, and dine!

Hornet

I have more pressing tasks, sir. Perhaps your master should content themself with a humbler meal?

Blasphemy! My master shall have the holy indulgence they deserve, even if I must douse my shell in oil and climb onto a dish myself!

To season a meal such as this... only a Crustnut will do. Once, scores of them could be gathered, high atop those coral crusted caves beyond the Grand Gate.

Surely some must still grow within that sand-ravaged land?

Pickled Muckmaggot! So that banished chef’s recipes outlived them after all!

Hornet

Not so, sir. I claimed the maggot from the chef themself. Their brutish work continued, even with their shell claimed by cursed thread.

Incredible! A bug so devout, they could cook with mind expunged. This Citadel was far too hasty to expel such brilliance.

Hornet

I could track down any ingredient you desire, for a price. The oil you keep here may be of some use to me.

Hornet

Promise it as reward, and your master shall have his meal.

Hrmph! Such a squalid bargain ill befits a holy servant... but so be it. Fetch me the ingredients and you shall have that pale condiment for yourself!

What an awful clattering! Would you kindly conduct yourself a little more carefully?

And why are you adorned in such an awful, livid red? By my oath, those above must make a sport of sending me the most wretched servants they can find!

Hornet

I am no servant, sir, rather a guest of sorts, invited by the Citadel. Tell me, is this vial of oil on display your own?

Nothing here is my own, you impertinent young mite! This sacred hall, and all the food contained within, belong to my most exalted master.

The Great Gourmand! The finest connoisseur who has ever lived, the one whose tastes transcend the ages!

None are left now who venerate them as they deserve, save for the loyal, lonely bug who stands before you.

That oil is merely a small savoury to whet their appetite for the grand meal to come. A spectacular, Pharloom spanning dish that I have been planning for an age.

But alas, those above seem to have forsaken my poor master! And I have grown so old. Now I can never hope to gather the necessary ingredients. Blast their indolence!

You dally, still? If you wish to earn your reward, you should be hunting down those ingredients! Or do you need directions from a serving-bug with some experience?

Hornet

Your master seems satisfied, sir. It is time you gave what was promised.

Yes. Yes! It has been done! Made and served. A dish to match my master’s refined desires.

The pale trifle is yours. Take it and leave! My master needs time to reflect, and I must ponder on flavours anew!

Still you tarry here, bug who calls herself a guest? If your idle claws need work, put them to service for our exalted Great Gourmand!

I must remain by my master, so you will need to leave the Citadel and gather the ingredients for their meal in my stead!

Hornet

Sir, I bring ingredients for the dish.

At last! My master is withering away from hunger! Let us see what gifts you bring.

A Crustnut! Stale and dull, you’ll be thinking, yes? But ground to finest powder, that’s when its tart taste blooms!

For our base, we require the gelatinous Mossberry Stew. Its concoction is a druidic art, a jealously guarded secret of the moss-painted caverns deep below us.