"My Lord, we have stepped into uneven grounds." A large hulking figure spoke with a gruff, uneven tone.
He wore tight suit that made him look like the rock of he was shoved in a go-cart.
His ears seemed longer than usual, having an unusual floppy look as it limblessly closed against his jaw. The tiny dual horn on his head also a significance of his racial traits affiliating to the Ox tribe.
He is Prince Eden Moo-son IX. A grandmaster in the battleground, but a mere boy in face of his father who sat beside him, towering over his 7'4 figure , standing over 8'6ft tall with muscles that make any bodybuilder cower in fear.
....
Back at the chaotic kitchen;
Nador beamed, oblivious to the undercurrent of barely-contained chaos simmering within Morrae. "Your Majesty, you wound me! As if I would dream of serving anything less than... creatively hazardous cuisine to your treasured daughter!" He winked, grabbing a handful of Spawn berries and tossing them casually into the air, catching them in his mouth with surprising accuracy. It would have been impressive if he hadn't then nearly choked, turning a shade of purple that matched the berries perfectly.
"KUFF!! *COUGH!!!*"
Morrae sighed again, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Just… try to keep the kitchen intact, Nador. And clean up Pierre. He's starting to attract flies." With that, she turned on her heel and swept out of the kitchen, leaving Nador alone with his culinary aspirations and a slowly reviving, incredibly confused, unconscious pastry chef.
As the grand doors swung closed, Nador turned to Pierre who was beginning to groan and sit up.
"Ah, Pierre! You're awake! Just in time to witness the birth of a legend!" Nador declared, grabbing a whisk and furiously beating a bowl of... something. It was vaguely yellow and smelled faintly of cheese and regret.
Pierre blinked blearily, his gaze landing on the cauldron of "Nador's Surprise." He shuddered. "What… what happened? My- My shoe?!"
"Worry not little Pierre."
"You were overcome with the sheer brilliance of my flavors, my friend! A common occurrence, really. Now, roll up your sleeves, we have a dessert to create! I'm thinking… a flaming soufflé of despair, topped with candied grubs and a drizzle of Fairy Dust!"
Pierre's eyes widened in horror. "FAIRY DUST?! Nador, where did you even get Fairy Dust!??!"
Nador waved a dismissive hand. "Details, details! A magician never reveals his sources, unless, of course, they involve questionable ethics and a black market auction. But that's beside the point! We need something to wow those Oxen, and nothing says 'we value your alliance' like a dessert that could potentially melt their faces off!"
Pierre, despite his terror, couldn't help but feel a reluctant admiration for Nador's sheer audacity. The man was a walking disaster, a culinary madman, but he was also undeniably entertaining. And, to Pierre's own surprise, even as he protested and begged Nador to reconsider, he found himself swept up in the chaos, helping to chop candied grubs and carefully measure out a suspiciously viscous red liquid.
"Are you sure this is safe, Nador?" Pierre asked, his voice trembling slightly as he poured a spoonful Fairy Dust into a piping bag, then paused... Then proceeded to dump literally every single thing in the pot.
Nador grinned, a wild glint in his eyes. "Safe? Pierre, life is too short for safe! Besides, a little risk adds spice to the flavor… literally!"
As they worked, the kitchen descended further into a state of pandemonium. Spoons clattered, ingredients flew, and the air crackled with raw mana. Nador, humming a jaunty tune, danced around the kitchen, adding a pinch of this, a dash of that, and a whole lot of things that Pierre couldn't even identify.
Finally, they stood back, surveying their creation. The "Flaming Soufflé of Despair" was a towering monstrosity, its surface erupting in small, controlled flames. The candied grubs glistened ominously, and the drizzle of dragon's blood gave it a distinctly sinister aura.
"Magnificent!" Nador exclaimed, wiping sweat from his brow. "This, my friend, is a culinary masterpiece that will either secure our alliance or plunge us into war! Either way, it'll be a night to remember!"
As the first guests began to arrive, a wave of dread washed over Pierre. He knew that tonight was going to be something truly special, and not in a good way. But as he looked at Nador's determined face, a strange sense of loyalty washed over him. They were in this together, for better or for worse, for soufflé or for famine. He just hoped they'd all survive the night.
(History time!!! Fairy dust is literally one of the strongest aphrodisiac known to man, equally rivaling that of a succubus! And only a handful are known to resist the lustful call of the oceans sirens nothing more a succubus.)
.....
(7pm)
The grandhall crowded with novel delegates of the Mistvale kingdom and the Ox tribes alike. The atmosphere chatty and strict.
The Ox tribe delegates, a mass of muscle and horns, stood out amongst the more refined elves and humans of Mistvale. They spoke in booming voices, their laughter shaking the very foundations of the castle. Eden Moo-son IX, impeccably dressed but still looking like he'd rather be anywhere else, stood stiffly beside his father, King Taurus Moo-son VIII. The King, a mountain of a man, surveyed the hall with a critical eye, his gaze sweeping over the tapestries, the chandeliers, and the assembled guests.
He stopped his looking when his eyes met the queen, Morrae, then proceeded to share a grin. "Good hospitality you have given us my queen. I hope the feast will be as exciting as these halls.", he boomed, his voice echoing through the room.
Morrae forced a smile, her eyes betraying a hint of apprehension. "Of course, Your Majesty. We have spared no expense to ensure your comfort and enjoyment." She gestured towards the long tables laden with food, though her gaze lingered on a particularly… volatile-looking dish being wheeled in by a nervous Pierre. "The feast is about to begin. Please, be seated."
As the delegates began to take their places, Morrae found herself seated beside King Taurus and across from Prince Eden. The air crackled with tension, a mixture of political maneuvering and barely concealed disdain. The first few courses were served – roasted boar, spiced pheasant, and a variety of elaborately prepared vegetables. The Ox tribe delegates devoured the food with gusto, while the Mistvale nobles picked at their plates, their eyes darting nervously.
Then came the moment of truth. Pierre, his face pale and sweaty, wheeled in the "Flaming Soufflé of Despair". A hush fell over the hall as all eyes were drawn to the towering dessert, its surface flickering with menacing flames.
King Taurus Moo-son VIII raised a thick eyebrow. "Interesting presentation," he rumbled, a hint of amusement in his voice. "What exactly is this...concoction?"
Morrae swallowed hard. "It's a... a soufflé, Your Majesty. A local specialty, crafted by our finest chef." She carefully omitted the fact that their finest chef was currently hiding behind a pillar, clutching a prayer scroll.
Nador, in a flash of confidence strode forward with a large grin. "Your majesty, this is none other than my own creation, Nador's surprise! A dessert that is sure to please the lips!, so much so that you will be begging for more!"
A servant tentatively offered a slice to King Taurus. The King took it with a hearty chuckle, inspecting it with a keen eye. He brought it to his nose, inhaling deeply. A strange expression crossed his face – a mixture of confusion, intrigue, and… something else entirely.
He took a bite.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then his eyes widened. He let out a roar – not of anger, but of something akin to… ecstasy. His muscles tensed, his horns seemed to sprout bigger and grow, and a strange, unfocused look came into his eyes.
"This… this is… incredible!" he bellowed, grabbing the entire platter and devouring it in seconds. He then turned to Morrae, a manic grin plastered on his face. "Queen, that is the stuff of legends! What is your secret!?"
Beside him, Prince Eden watched his father's behaviour with growing unease. He took a hesitant sniff of the remaining soufflé and recoiled. "Father, are you alright? You seem... different."
King Taurus let out a booming laugh, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity. "Different? I've never felt so alive! You must try this, my son! It's unlike anything you've ever tasted!" He thrust a spoon of the Soufflé at Eden, who reluctantly took it.
As Eden swallowed the smallest speck, the world seemed to change for him. The once tense atmosphere of the Hall, instantly felt so lax, so welcoming, so… inviting. He could hear the melodies of the instruments, the voices of the crowd, felt their warmth and energy from all angles! His rigid posture softened, a flush creeping up his neck. He looked at Morrae, his eyes filled with a longing he couldn t explain.
The fairy dust was working.
The hall was slowly descending into absolute chaos. The Ox tribe delegates, emboldened by the King's reaction, were devouring the Soufflé with abandon, their own behavior becoming increasingly erratic. Some were dancing wildly, others were trying to woo the Mistvale nobles, and a few were simply staring into space, lost in their own private fantasies.
Morrae watched the scene unfold with growing horror. She had hoped for a successful alliance, but it seemed Nador's "culinary masterpiece" had unleashed something far more uncontrollable. She shot a desperate look towards Nador, who was standing beside Pierre, watching the chaos with a mixture of pride and panic.
"Nador!" she hissed. "What did you put in that dessert?!"
Nador shrugged sheepishly. "Just a few… exotic ingredients. Fairy dust, lots of sugar and onions … you know, the usual."
Morrae groaned. "Fairy dust?! Are you insane?! Do you even know what that stuff does?!"
Before Nador could answer, King Taurus grabbed Morrae's hand, his grip surprisingly gentle despite his immense strength. "Queen, you truly are an enchantress! This alliance will be more successful than ever! I must speak to you in private!" He then proceeded to kiss her hand so intensely that it started sparking electricity. He then licked her hand, and proceeded to howl to the high heavens!
The situation was spiralling out of control. Morrae knew she had to do something... But from the coner of her eye, she met Nador's frowned expression, leading to a slight smile forming on her face.
The others who has taken a bite were also reacting quite passionately, some even brazzen enough to tear off clothes and openly make out with each other.
This was no mere exchange!! Nador had accidentally turned this political meeting into a full fledged orgy!!!
"Hey hands off" Nador spoke, swatting away the grip of a female Ox before approching the queen with a slight frown seeing the Ox king soo close.
"I said hands off!!"
*BAM!*