Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn From: hutch@ibeam.intel.com (Steve Hutchison) Subject: [L&S] Party! (Guests Bearing Gifts) Message-ID: References: <93048.165538ASG102@psuvm.psu.edu> Date: Fri, 19 Feb 1993 20:39:40 GMT They arrived early. Well, not TOO early, since the lights were up, and the tables all set, and the rooms comfortably arranged for mobs of folk. Even though the snows had been falling two days before, there was a warmth at this house, an elvish sort of early spring feeling in the atmosphere. The cold morning wind off the bay was somehow not reaching, despite the stray wisps of fog that were hanging about. 'Raelf was in party attire: a pair of long, black pants reminiscent somehow of robes, and a voluminous shirt, open in front, patterned in a deeply colorful and continually moving display of fire, water, wind, and rock. He wore a manic sort of grin, and was jumping from foot to foot nervously. ar'Elya was a contrast: calm, poised, wearing her neutral shape, garbed in long pants tucked into knee boots, her soft grey muslin shirt laced comfortably under a long blue hapi coat, embroidered with symbols for happiness and celebration. They showed their invitations and the gatekeeper allowed them in. ar'Elya sought out Luthor first. He was directing the last bit of the buffet, helping set up the wine casks behind the portable bar that LittleFair had loaned him. "You must be Luthor Anside, unless there are two people here wearing singularity fields as cloaks. We've not met formally - I'm ar'Elya." Luthor looked across the bar at the woman, trying to recall meeting her formally or informally - he knew he'd seen her at the Inn, though. "You speak the language of my homeland like a native, but I don't recall ever meeting you there - may I ask how you learned it? "One does have some small skill in languages, but in this case, I am using the reflection of your own knowledge, because it's more appropriate to congratulate the founding of your new home with the music of your own speech. It is a beautiful language." "Indeed. I had missed it - Elvish tongues do seem to me more musical than the human languages. I believe I remember seeing you at the Dragon's Inn, a few days ago, with Kadrys and Lancos and that, well, unusual fellow 'Raelf - am I correct?" "Yes, 'Raelf is my lifemate. Unusual does describe him." She looked around, admiring the gardens and enjoying the early morning sun. "You have a lovely house here, and I wish you much happiness. You will doubtless be getting other housewarming gifts - it's a human custom, but a pleasant one." She placed a package wrapped in BLACK on the bar, and smiled like Mona Lisa. Luthor touched it, cautiously, and felt a momentary surprise when the wrapping vanished into his cloak, revealing a stained-glass box with a jewelled clasp. "What was that?" "The wrapping? It seemed appropriate from 'Raelf's description of you. It was a solidification of the concept of shadow." Luthor nodded, and opened the clasp on the box. Inside was what appeared to be a crystalline seed. It gave off a faint sound, a gentle chiming. "It's lovely, what is it?" "A 'ken'tren seed. You plant it in a bowl of seawater. Keep it covered for a week, exposed to sun and moon and stars, and always in your home. After it sprouts, keep it watered - seawater only - until it gets as big as you like, then let it dry out, and it'll stop growing. It lives where there is happiness, and it will sing for you. Only one caveat - if the joy leaves, it will go dormant until it returns, and if hatred moves in, it will die." Luthor took it carefully in his hand, examining the complex sparkles that came from inside it - it had all the parts that he was familiar with inside of a seed, the embryonic plant, the rootstem, the large "nut" that would provide food for the germinating plant, and a husk which sparkled like ice. "It's a beautiful gift. Thank you." "It's a tradition with my family when a new house is started. May it live forever in your home." She smiled again, remembering - the seed had been given as a gift from Maribel and Turhaec, who were the firstborn of their new Clan. Maribel had warned her not to plant it, that it would not live out the year, but then she had gotten her far-away look, and told her that it would grow and prosper some day. --- Serene was nursing Mista, back in a quiet corner. 'Raelf managed somehow to find her, and knocked gently at the door. "Hello. I didn't get a chance to ogle at your new baby yet. Wow, she's pretty. Looks like her father, eh?" "Well, maybe a bit more solid around the edges." "Beautiful. Hey, I brought you a present. Happy new house, and happy new baby." He held out a flat box. Serene settled Mista to her breast again and gestured. "You open it? My hands are kind of full right now." "Sure. Hope you like it." Inside the box on a blue velvet mounting were three delicate pieces of jewelry. There were two heart-shaped lockets, on fine gold chains, and a small ring with a curious fastener, apparently also useful as a brooch. They were all made of silver and gold, with onyx and moonstone inlay. "They're lovely. What are they?" "Well, the ring-brooch is for Mista. The lockets are for you and for Luthor, and I can make up others if you want me to. Each of them has a piece of one true stone inside, a gust from one sea breeze, a bit of one drop of water, and the warmth from one flame, and the same thought binds them all. While Mista wears her brooch, and you wear your amulet, you can always hear her, so you will know if she needs you. And the lockets can be used to guide you to her, if she gets lost." "Thank you. Oh, the chains are so fine." "But unbreakable. As soon as you put it on, as long as you love her the chains can't be broken. They have the rune for parent's love written in each link."" "Can you help me put it on?" "Sure, as long as you touch it first, got to attune the spell." ----- The party had been going on for a while now. 'Raelf was standing at the portable bar, soaking up the mid-day sun and enjoying the music and sipping on a Catamount Porter. He glanced casually at the buffet setup, and realized that there was no more pizza. Chugging down the rest of his mug, he strode over to where one of the Hobbit waiters was setting out more food. "Out of pizza?" "What, the flat bread stuff? No more left. Too bad, kitchen staff ate most of it, was on the wrong table in back." "Oh. Hey, could you make up an empty buffet table to be ready in about five minutes? I'm gonna get some more." "Sure sure." "Hey, you know Krupp Faraway?" "Nah. Oh, you mean the goofus who gets paid for snooping in other people's business? I know OF him. Sister-in-law on the Baghollow side paid him to find out about who was her brother cheating on his wife with, Krupp found out. Was going out to gaming tables, and she was just afraid he'd gone after this human bimbo she saw him with." "Huh. Well, he's back from his brief vacation." "Yah? Didn't know he was gone." 'Raelf grinned and went off to search for Luthor. After five minutes, he returned, materializing from a thick patch of air and practically falling into the garden, carrying three very long staves in his arms. They were covered with runes, gemstones, bits and pieces of metal, all along their seven foot length. He went to where the buffet table was set, and put one down about three feet behind it, on end. It stood by itself, unsupported, flickering faintly. He did the same thing with the other two, forming a very long, thin triangle with the flat face towards the buffet table, and after adjusting their positions slightly, stood back and spoke. Luthor, walking into the garden with 'Raelf beside him, heard the shadows itch: <> and the poles began to flash silent lightnings between them, which coalesced into a shimmering wall along the long side of the triangle. It blurred, and suddenly there was an opening into a strange looking kitchen. "Hey dude," 'Raelf-with-Luthor said, and did a low-five with his double. "Ready to go... you do the explaints..." and the 'Raelf behind the table adjusted the white cook's coat he was wearing, then pulled on a red apron and tied it, as he walked through the gateway into the kitchen. "Consider it as very good timing, and don't sweat the details," 'Raelf replied to Luthor's unspoken question. Before the gold-elf could reply with a more coherent inquiry, 'Raelf came back through, pushing a six foot tall metal cabinet on wheels, and following him eagerly came a low cart piled with slightly curved white plates and rolled-up towels, with a scattering of bowls and covered serving trays on top. "The plates and stuff are all short-term solid illusions, I got Raye to do them up before we left for the party. Not to worry if the guests break them or anything. So, you prefer vegetarian, right?" 'Raelf-behind-the-table positioned the metal cabinet and swung the doors open, locking them back along the sides. Inside it were about a hundred racks holding sliding pans. Five of these were pulled out and placed in rows along the table. A small crowd had begun to form. Luthor turned to his companion, indicating the different concoctions on the table. "These aren't all the same as the recipe you gave Serene?" "No, that was bar-pizza. Salty and hot, designed to make you want to drink more beer. This is a sort of `pizza sampler' kit." "See, this one here, is called foccaci bread. It's a recipe about fourteen centuries old. Comes from a place where olive trees are more common. See, the olives here in Generica are more bitter, have less oil, more like the capers they use as seasoning where this stuff was invented. This is made up as a wet dough, put on these big pans with lots of this fresh first-press olive oil, and then the spices and some other stuff for flavor, and baked. There's a sort of street vendor thing where they sell this stuff to the fishermen coming back to market in the early morning from the first-tide fishing." The tray was about five feet in diameter, and Luthor decided not to ask how it had fit in the three-foot cabinet. It was covered with a crusty, thin bread, bubbly on the surface, covered with a thin film of a pale green oil with a gentle but sharp aroma, and strewn with finely chopped basil and rosemary and garlic, and a double handful of finely grated hard cheeze. A long, thin slice was cut off and handed to Luthor, who tried a few bites before pronouncing it food. Meanwhile, about a third of the slices were being decorated with long strips of salt-preserved anchovies, caught the day before in Specifica of Cod. "This stuff was the great-great-godfather of all the pizza, far as I could tell, and I did some in-person research." "What's this one?" Luthor indicated another fairly similar looking tray, this one only three feet in diameter, covered with a very thin crust of a limp-looking bread. It had a really thin layer of red tomato sauce mixed with a few herbs, and then on top of that, a similarly not-thick coating of very oily very melted cheese - a mix of mozzarella and a little cheddar and a little parmesan but not enough. 'Raelf-behind-counter was putting some of the salty anchovies on a few of the slices - he wasn't sure yet whether Generican tastes went for fish on everything, but he suspected they'd get a better reception than they did on Arkham-Earth in America. "Well, this is standard street pizza. It's served from carts in the big cities of Earth, or from little hole-in-the-wall shops. Normally I wouldn't bring such a thing to a party, but I thought Lucas might show up, and he'd be wanting something to get indigestion from, and this is just the thing. It's the kind of stuff you wouldn't look for, but if you eat it standing up while you're on the way to doing something else, it's great." Luthor tasted the limply greasy piece 'Raelf handed him, found it unremarkable, and had a few more bites. After a moment though, he noticed the slightly sour, bitter aftertaste. "THIS COULD BE EASY FOR ME TO DIGEST," he said to himself, and was surprised at how hard it was to bend the probabilities around it. "IT COULD BE!" he insisted, and heard a plop - he looked down in surprise. The toppings had slid off of the slice, leaving behind only the crust. Luthor frowned and ate the crust - not too bad without the sour cheese. 'Raelf laughed. "Yeah, I have the same problem with it!" He poked at the curl of self-adhesive cheese on the ground, with a small hairpin he pulled from his pony-tail, and the stuff vanished in a glimmer of fire that left behind no ash, and didn't burn the grass. "There. No mess, no bother." He gestured to the next pizza. "This is Chicago style, at least, it's how I do Chicago style. The original stuff was invented by a sweet, crazy lady who still runs her own restaurant, I could have done it the way she does but I think you want your guests to be able to move after they're done eating a piece. Mine is kind of a cross with a Sicilian version." There were four different cast-iron fry pans, laid out on rolled-up napkins to protect the tablecloth from the heat. They looked slightly different, but similar: each contained a thick yet crisp crust under a layer of either bubbling red or creamy white sauce, filled alternately with perfectly cooked shrimp, chicken, sausage, and spinach, then topped with another thinner crust and more sauce, and topped again with herbs and cheese. "You eat vegetarian, right? I advise the spinach, or maybe the shrimp if you do seafood." The gold elf began to wonder if he'd survive trying out all this food. It was good, but he was starting to get filled up. "This one's my version of New York style. I guess it isn't perfectly authentic, because you have to be surrounded by honking cars and people who resent each other, and you have to be mugged on the way back from eating it and be able to belch and knock down the mugger with your breath, but it'll have to do for now." New York had a thick hand-tossed crust, a relatively large amount of the tomato-based sauce and a relatively small amount of cheese, and of course, lots of sausage and salami and pepperoni and fennel and basil, and not a lot of other things. Luthor gave it a pass, but enjoyed the aroma. There was such a thing as too much meat in too small a space. "So here we are at all the Left Coast pizzas. These are different recipes that I got from different people up and down the coast when I was surfing and hang-gliding, oh, about ... seven? ... years ago." These had some similarities: all had hand-tossed crusts, of course, but thinner than the crusts on the New York Style. One of the Rabble asked, "Where's this New York place? Was there an Old York? Did everyone leave or something? Did they ask this Chicago person how to make these?" 'Raelf-behind-the-table answered patiently while 'Raelf-with-Luthor showed the array of smaller pizzas, each no more than two feet across. The "Buddha's Indigestion"... The sauce was spicy but not too thick, and it had sliced red, green, and yellow pepper rings and red onions and fresh mushrooms and black olives and of course, garlic and lots and lots of cheese, including some of the stranger types like smoked gouda, feta cheese, and others too weird to mention. A tray of sliced tomatoes and fresh avocado (NOT the slimy green-skinned kind, the mellow smooth knobby-black-skinned kind) was provided for garnish. After one taste, Luthor decided he was in heaven, except 'Raelf insisted it was more appropriate to be in Nirvana. "This one's the Azteca. It's made with a flaming hot peppery sausage called "chorizo" that they make out of pork and peppers. These little sliced round green things with the seeds, that look like okra, are another kind of pepper, and these white guys are just sweet onions, and there's a little fried bacon crumbled in, and the white cheese is called Jack Cheese, this particular one with the red and green are because they put peppers in the cheese when they made it. There's milk served with it." Serene arrived, Mista in sling, and looked curiously at the table. "You may want to avoid these, they've got some pretty hot pepper and it might make your milk taste hot for the little goober." "Oh, she doesn't mind a few spices, so far." Serene tried a slice of the Azteca, and smiled as the tears came to her eyes, and accepted a small glass of milk. "Oh my, that's good." "So, this one's called the Astoria, it has a thicker tomato sauce and it's spiced with basil and chervil and chopped onions and a little garlic gets rubbed around the edges of the crust with some fresh butter, and then it gets covered with these tiny pink cooked shrimp, and smoked oysters, and fresh salted anchovies but you have to make sure they're not too oily or they make it taste too fishy, and these wavy amber colored mushrooms are close enough to chanterelles to crossbreed. Anyway on top of that is a really fresh mozzarella, gotta find one that's kind of milky-tasting, and then add freshly grated fresh-not-dried parmesan, then bake it long enough for the crust to get crisp and the cheese to melt. 'Scuse me." 'Raelf-behind-the-table cut a slice and handed it across to himself. "Mow 'dis uun.." he swallowed, "is called The Wipeout. I do not eat this myself because I don't like tropical fruit on pizza." The pizza was covered with round slices of smoked pork tenderloin (Back Bacon, 'Raelf called it) and green peppers and black olives, and button mushrooms, on a light tomato sauce, and the cheese was the same mix of mozzarella and cheddar and parmesan from the New York style, but more of it. But it had little yellow cubes of PINEAPPLE on it. There were some bowls of finely grated, slightly dried parmesan, and finely chopped red pepper, next to the rolled wet towels.