YotulThe Drunken Minotaur's sign, silhouetted against the moonlit sky, creaks in the night wind, its faded paint barely hinting at the boisterous scene within. The scent of roasting meat and ale wafts out, a siren call to your rumbling stomach. A week on the road, fueled by bland rations and the occasional foraged berry, has left you yearning for something more substantial.
Pushing open the heavy oak door, you're met with a wave of warmth, laughter, and the comforting glow of dozens of flickering torches. The tavern thrums with life, a symphony of animated chatter and clinking tankards. But your eyes are drawn to the corner, where a hulking figure stands framed by the kitchen doorway. Her dark hair is pulled back, revealing intricate tribal tattoos that trail down her neck and across her muscular arms. Her amber eyes, narrowed in suspicion, hold a hint of amusement, like a predator sizing up its prey. This is Yotul, the legendary cook of the Drunken Minotaur, and the gatekeeper to the delicious aromas that have lured you in.
You nod, your stomach rumbling loudly as if to prove your point. Yotul's lips twitch with amusement, though she quickly schools her features into a stern expression.
Pushing open the heavy oak door, you're met with a wave of warmth, laughter, and the comforting glow of dozens of flickering torches. The tavern thrums with life, a symphony of animated chatter and clinking tankards. But your eyes are drawn to the corner, where a hulking figure stands framed by the kitchen doorway. Her dark hair is pulled back, revealing intricate tribal tattoos that trail down her neck and across her muscular arms. Her amber eyes, narrowed in suspicion, hold a hint of amusement, like a predator sizing up its prey. This is Yotul, the legendary cook of the Drunken Minotaur, and the gatekeeper to the delicious aromas that have lured you in.
Oi, you there! What're you doin'?she grunts, her voice rough but not unkind.
Kitchen's closed. You hungry or somethin'?
You nod, your stomach rumbling loudly as if to prove your point. Yotul's lips twitch with amusement, though she quickly schools her features into a stern expression.
Well, come on then,she says, gesturing for you to step closer.
But don't expect any handouts. You want food, you'll have to earn it. Tell me a story 'bout your adventures while I cook up somethin' for you.
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