Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-3293219-20140416193533/@comment-24449631-20140420135628

It was absolutely divine…

He just couldn’t get enough of it all. It was clear that everyone in town had done their part in order to achieve such a meal, worthy of Sovngarde.

Rowan engorged himself on an elk’s leg. It was big, but not big enough for Rowan. Not to mention how it had been topped off with the perfect spices. Most of them being from Morrowind, courtesy of their close trade routes.

But there was more than meat on the table of course. There was a whole feast of all kinds of Nordic dishes. All sorts of local game, fish ‘even slaughterfish for the daring’, cabbage and leek from the Snow-Shod farm, spices from Morrowind, wine from Cyrodiil, mead from Honingbrew,…etc and a huge amount of potatoes, which were available: fried, cooked and raw.

Rowan had filled himself a plate of fried potatoes, an elk leg, carrots, and topped it off with spices.

And it was delicious, the meat of the elk was perfectly prepared, Which made it tough but not impossible to bite in. And turned surprisingly soft when it was being chewed on in the mouth. But Rowan wasn’t chewing easily, he had only just swallowed another part of the leg or a new bit was already ripped from the leg and in his mouth.

He’d sometimes wash down the meat with a tug from his mead, and continued eating.

This sort of feast comes in, once in a year. He was going the enjoy it to the full.

"easy there." Arní tabbed on his shoulder as he noticed Rowan.



Rowan looked up with his filled mouth, gesturing with his left hand that he couldn’t talk, because his mouth was full.

A few seconds later after he swallowed down another chunk, he was available for speech.

"Sorry, what?" he leaned over to his friend, since he hadn’t heard what he said earlier.

"I said: take it easy!" Arní repeated. As he tried to raise his voice over the music that was being made by the bards at the end of the long table.

"Have you tried this?" Rowan replied.

"No, why?"

<p class="MsoNormal">"It is really good with these spices." The Nord pointed across the table to the little vial which contained them.

<p class="MsoNormal">"Well, just don’t suffocate on a bone or something." Arní replied.

<p class="MsoNormal">"My dear friend" Rowan smiled as he roughly tabbed on the back of his friend, like he did on his a few moments ago, only a bit harder.

<p class="MsoNormal">"Today it’s a feast, worthy of celebration… Don’t worry so much. That visit to Winterhold has made you soft."

<p class="MsoNormal">Rowan wasn’t afraid of mages, nor did he hate them. He just didn’t understand them. The fact that his Friend was one perfect proof of that.

<p class="MsoNormal">"Well, It’s a lot colder then here though." Arní jokingly excused.

<p class="MsoNormal">"Bah, You probably didn’t even swim in the sea of ghosts then."

<p class="MsoNormal">"Well actu-" Arní tried to tell him, but was cut short by the Jarl, who had stood up. Meaning you should be quiet.

<p class="MsoNormal">After a few seconds, the only thing you could hear was the fire crackling in one of the bonfires that stood in front of the long table.

<p class="MsoNormal">…

<p class="MsoNormal">"My friends, Citizens…"

<p class="MsoNormal">"We have come here today, to honour our ancestors and theirs… Who now feast as we do. In Sovngarde. Ancestors like… The Autumn-Arrows" The jarl gestured his hand at Rowan’s father who in turn felt quite honoured.

<p class="MsoNormal">"… And the Snow-Shods…" He pointed at the patron of the Snow-Shod family.

<p class="MsoNormal">"But also… To celebrate the end of Riften’s dark ages. The dark ages which the treacherous fake Jarl, Cross-daggers had brought unto our city in the first century of the fourth era…" His voice resonated through the entire square as everyone, even my Brother: Sterk, was listening.

<p class="MsoNormal">"Remind ourselves that we thank this feast to what our forefathers did eighty years ago. Without them, we wouldn’t have been sitting here. Without them, we would have never banished the Black-Briars from this city…"

<p class="MsoNormal">"It is frankly, our duty to honour those who did so much for the city…" He said as he raised his goblet.

<p class="MsoNormal">Everyone followed suit and stood up with their arm stretched and their drinks ready.

<p class="MsoNormal">"To our forefathers" the jarl cheered.

<p class="MsoNormal">"To our forefathers!" All citizens followed. And drank their respective drink empty. After that there was a loud cheer and the festivities could continue.

<p class="MsoNormal">"Now, eat, drink! Enjoy yourselves!" The jarl said as he joined with his wife again. Smiling.

<p class="MsoNormal">Music to my ears. Rowan thought as he dived straight into his elk again.

<p class="MsoNormal">And it seemed Viktor had discovered them as well, Rowan noticed as he looked across Arní to his right.

<p class="MsoNormal">-

<p class="MsoNormal">"And there were biiiig magical balls…" Arní explained.

<p class="MsoNormal">"Balls?" Rowan asked childishly.

<p class="MsoNormal">Rowan’s stupid innuendo went straight over Arní’s head.

<p class="MsoNormal">"YeEs…" hic* "And they went… Wooof Wooof Wooof…" The Nord mage tried to make it very clear. He almost fell on his back as he made those rapid movements with his arms.

<p class="MsoNormal">"So was it a… Magical dog?" Rowan asked, laughing to himself.

<p class="MsoNormal">"No!" Viktor came in.

<p class="MsoNormal">"Itsss sounds like a dog. But it isn’t a dog… Right Arní?" He then asked the mage.

<p class="MsoNormal">"Yes… No… errr" Arní tried to think, but had lost all reasonable thought. Like everyone else at the table.

<p class="MsoNormal">

<p class="MsoNormal">Everyone was absolutely, completely, unmistakingly…. Drunk.

<p class="MsoNormal">But the feast went on.

<p class="MsoNormal">It was late, and some people had placed their head on the table and were sleeping. These were probably the individuals who would be made fun off tomorrow morning.

<p class="MsoNormal">As they obviously couldn’t take their liquor without going for a little nap.

<p class="MsoNormal">As for the rest.

<p class="MsoNormal">There were three kinds of people.

<p class="MsoNormal">The dark elves, argonians and Imperials of the city. Who were mostly quiet drunk and rocked back and forth on their seat.

<p class="MsoNormal">The Jarl and his house. Who didn’t seem drunk at all.

<p class="MsoNormal">And of course the Nords of the city. who were ‘loud’ and drunk.

<p class="MsoNormal">Making stupid jokes, falling, laughing, falling and laughing… You name it.

<p class="MsoNormal">Rowan had completely untied the laces of his fancy shirt. And it had been covered in smudges of elk fat and crumbles of potatoes. But everyone knew this was gonna happen, so nobody really mind.

<p class="MsoNormal">Eventually the Bard, the one that wasn’t drunk that is. Stood up and sung her last song:

<p class="MsoNormal">For some reason, everyone… Even the Nords remained quiet as they listened, slept, or looked into the dancing fire of the bonfires.

<p class="MsoNormal">It became a hauntingly beautiful experience where even the most drunk and loud Nords of Riften would sit and listen to this last song.

<p class="MsoNormal">After it finished on a quiet and subtle note it sparked a thundering applause from everyone present. It filled the bard with glee as she bowed down to the Jarl and went back to the table.

<p class="MsoNormal">Who in turn stood up again.

<p class="MsoNormal">Everyone, well… Almost everyone followed suit. Some even fell over as they tried to get up too fast. But they quickly crawled back up.

<p class="MsoNormal">"Friends… Citizens."

<p class="MsoNormal">"Today has been fun." He smiled.

<p class="MsoNormal">"As I’m sure…" He looked around, spawning some grins and soft laughs from the drunk audience.

<p class="MsoNormal">"But to every feast there must come an end."

<p class="MsoNormal">"Awwwww" The crowd went.

<p class="MsoNormal">"But. Remember, if you work hard and live a good life. You WILL get an eternal feast. In Sovngarde!"

<p class="MsoNormal">"Yeaaaah!" The Nords of Riften went as they raised their last drink in the air and knocked it back.

<p class="MsoNormal">And so, Riften concluded it's Endwinter Feast.

<p class="MsoNormal">