Day 50, Winter 511 AV Evening - Some Tavern Now this was a ray of sunshine to the Syliran. A feast in the dead of winter's night! A contest of will and intestinal fortitude... A grand eating contest! For a nominal price a man could have his fill and if he was fortunate, he could do more than sate his hunger. A pool of money from the participants amounted to the first prize, an entrance fee to join the competition of five gold mizas had been allocated to the cost of ingredients, the fee for arranging the event and finally the prize money. This was truly a man's romance, free food and money. There were already many contestants and Lyner was the newest entry at number 25. He wore the sash proudly, waiting for the rest of the entrees to fill the tables. This was a contest he had prepared for... he had refused to eat, relying only on water and soy for nutrition these last few days. Now he could reap the rewards of gluttony without suffering for it. But the contest was not as simple as people were led to believe, nothing was ever ordinary in Alvadas. They would not serve delicious looking food... the taste wouldn't be bad but the texture and appearance might offend. The first meal was roasted duck fetus, a Taloban delicacy, the recipe that put off many contestants... Lyner was a pit fighter though. He lived in a world where the next meal was never guaranteed, no matter the form or flavor a gladiator's food was food. If it filled the stomach and was cooked, then it was fair game. Disgusting was not a word in his vocabulary, there was only acquired taste. "Last five contestants before we start this challenge of the manliest men!" Lyner looked around him. Men of all sizes and shapes sat on their tables, all of them looked at their empty bowls waiting to be filled. In their wooden mugs was water or mead and in their hands, an iron fork and knife. "Five miza a head, step right up and join this contest of fortitude." |