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Ahh, the Power of Cheese


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#1 Guest_Fantysm_*

Posted 17 January 2005 - 02:49 PM

“And here we are at Faerun’s 83rd Annual Cheese Festival, the biggest, grooviest, and cheesiest festival in Faerun!” Standing atop the Alibakkar’s mansion to better see the crowd gathered, the halfling announcer commentated using the very latest, state-of-the-art invention called a Mega-Amplificationization Voicing Device. The label on the side grandly declared it ‘a product of Jan Jakobar Jansen. Do not, and I mean, DO NOT use unless you are willing to be blown up for the sake of science.’

“This year, the festival is being proudly hosted by the cozy Amnian town of Trademeet!” The natives of Trademeet, who were gathered next to the fountain, clapped and screamed loudly.

“Our contestants are competing for several prestigious titles, among them being Best Tasting Cheese, Worst Tasting Cheese, Smelliest Cheese, Most Cleverly Hidden Cheese, and of course, the BEST CHEESE IN FAERUN!” This brought cheers, whistles, and applause from every person attending.

“And this is only the beginning!” the announcer cried. “The Cheese Festival lasts for a whole ten-day! Today is Tasting Day! Our contestants have their stalls set up. You sample their cheese, and if you like what you taste, you buy!” If we may use the cliche, the crowd went wild.

“Now go out there, and test some cheese!” the halfling pointed out at the whole crowd as he shouted these last words, and completed his pep rally by being blown into the air in a great explosion seconds later. He drifted back to earth, unharmed.

“Sometimes I really wonder about that Jan fellow,” he mused to himself as he stared at the charred remains of his Mega-Amplificationization Voicing Device.



The half-orc Krod took up the giant cleaver and began slicing bite-sized cubes of cheese off of a large piece. Each chunk was equipped with a toothpick so the smaller festival-goers could sample with ease.

“Mommy, look at the big green man!” a little human girl of about seven said, dragging her mother to Krod’s booth. Krod smiled kindly at the little human, but being a half-orc made his smile seem more wicked than kind.

“What are you? Are . . . are you gonna eat me?” the girl asked fearfully.

“Krod is half-orc. No eat humans. Krod eat animals and green stuff.”

“You’re — you’re awfully nice for a half-orc,” the child said. “What kinda cheese do you have?”

Krod pointed to the two platters set out. “Snot. And Krod’s favorite: Mold!”

The little girl smiled and reached for a chunk from the first platter, but her appalled mother hurried her away, casting a stricken look at Krod over her shoulder.



A tent of black silk completely shrouded the booth of Lassal and Del. Upon entering the tent, the visiting gnome Jan Jansen saw a coffin converted to a table. By the smoldering light of two braziers on either side of it, he could see a very pale-skinned woman in a revealing, blue silk outfit behind the table. She had a hungry, feral smile on her face and was delicately nibbling on a chunk of cheese while lounging on a large bean-filled cushion. In the shadows behind her was a ashen man, stretched out on a pile of pillows.

“Del, stop hogging all the cheese for yourself!” the man snapped. “The rest of us are getting hungry . . .”

“Stop it, Lassal. You know I can’t stand the stuff you like.” Jan walked up to the table.

“Yes?” Del munched on the cheese. “What flavor is your preference?”

“What have you got?” Jan asked.

“Let’s see.” Del bent over the table to examine the collection of serving plates. “Aasimar Blood; it has a sparkling taste more than the rest do, but some like it. Drow Blood; ooh, probably my favorite. That’s the one I’m eating right now.” Del held out the half-eaten chunk. “Want a bite?”

Jan shook his head, and Del continued, pointing at each plate as she named it. “Dragon Blood; bleuh, that stuff is just too sweet for my tastes. Lassal likes it, though.” Del gestured to the man behind her. “Goblin Blood; for those with less refined tastes. We sold a batch of that to a half-orc just a little while ago. Personally, I can’t stand the junk.” Del’s eyes lit up when she came to the second-to-last plate. “And this — this was imported from Halruaa. It is our most expensive product, but it is by far the most popular among gnomes like yourself. It is . . . Griffin Blood!”

Jan nodded thoughtfully. “You know, all this talk of blood reminds me of my Aunt Lena. She used to hang out with vampires, and you know how that goes. You see, Lena was a fan of foods from Luiren, and the halflings from Luiren completely re-invented pasta. So every time her vampire friends would come over for dinner, Auntie would whip up a big batch of spaghetti with meatballs, and all the works. And if you’ve ever had Auntie Lena’s cooking, you’d know how great it tastes. It’s a pity, though,” Jan said thoughtfully.

Del gaped at the gnome. “Why?”

“Because for some reason, the vampires didn’t like her garlic bread. Lena made a mean garlic bread. Especially when she spread minced turnips and rutabaga butter on it . . . mmmm! But I digress. In any case, the vampires turned out to be were-griffins in disguise. They may not have liked Auntie Lena’s garlic bread, but they sure did like Auntie.” Jan nodded at Del sadly. “The only thing left was her stomach, complete with undigested garlic bread inside.” He clapped his hands together as the vampires stared at him in half-disgust, half-horror.

“So . . . what’s on the last plate? Turnip Blood? Spiced with salt?”



“Cheese curds! Get yer cheese curds right here! Right here, fer just two gold pieces a dish!” Gurda crowed. The halfling, a native of Gullykin, was set up right next to the stall of a gnome by the name of Kylie Jansen, and already the smell was starting to get to her. Glumly, the halfling sat on a stool behind her booth. It was bad enough that no one was coming near her stall because of the stench, but worse, Gurda herself would have to stand the horrible odor for ten days.

“I’d like to buy some cheese curds, ma’am,” a tall stranger in a hooded cloak said. She could vaguely see a hawk-nose in the shadows of his hood. The hobbit was so caught up in squinting at the mysterious man that she didn’t notice the younger man in violently red mage robes next to him.

“Really?” Gurda asked, hardly daring to believe someone had managed to overlook the smell of Kylie’s stall. “Why?”

“The most widely accepted reason for buying cheese curds is to eat them, is it not?” Dekaras said.

“You don’t look like the type to like cheese curds,” Gurda said.

“Teacher Dekaras, I can handle . . .” the mage said, but the man in the cloak interrupted him.

“No, Edwin, I will manage this,” Dekaras said sharply. “The last time you told me you could handle something, you turned yourself into a girl.” Edwin fell silent with a sullen look. Apparently, that incident was still bothering him.

Dekaras smiled slightly, and Gurda gulped — the smile reminded her of fangs, somehow. “I am here to buy cheese curds, and if you want to pass up two gold pieces, I will take myself and my student elsewhere. I doubt business will be plentiful, here.”

“No!” Gurda yelped. She shoved a dish of cheese curds at Dekaras and Edwin.

“Thank you,” he said silkily, putting two gold pieces on the counter. “Come along, Edwin. We need to find Poppy . . . I still don’t know how she managed to talk me into this festival. . .”

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Notes: Thanks go to Laufey for allowing me to use Poppy and Dekaras.




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