Quoted By:
>Players previously determined that Deianira will request Myrethuia, handmaiden of Lady Charima, will bring her to the Damachidean Kitchen...
Clearing your throat, you make a bashful request of slim Myrethuia:
“Would you be so kind as to direct me to the Palace Kitchens?”
Myrethuia’s eyebrows climb before she catches herself, face returning to a neutral expression. You quickly explain that you are an aspiring chef, as well as a vocalist, and expertly bring color to your cheeks with a treasured memory of an attractive suitor from long years past. For Lady Deianira, taking a personal interest in the chef’s work would be considered a true oddity – unbecoming of her station. For Pylia, however – an impoverished, unlanded noblewoman – such an interest is more of an embarrassing quirk; perhaps the passion of a woman who cares not for society expectations. Myrethuia, sensing no danger in the request (and seeming a bit impatient that her encounter with you has run longer than expected) quickly brings you to the Palace Kitchens – your troupe is left outside the Palace Gates in the company of a swiftly-summon paired of Damachidean spears.
It's not difficult to find the Kitchens themselves – following the smell is easy enough, although you allow Myrethuia to guide you for appearances. As you step within the busy kitchen, nearly quadruple the size of your palace’s, it is crowded with cooks, servants, slaves stoking the fires, many roasting goats and oxen, and guiding them all, a general of silver hair and exacting standards. In every direction, you see white-robed men and women preparing huge quantities of food at a breakneck pace - you're shocked at the raw volume of production here. You attempt to calculate the monetary value of the roasting oxen alone, and quickly give up.
The head chef of Damachides is a slender man of short stature, a commoner, but you immediately find him somewhat intimidating – his posture and a steely glint in his eye tells you that he expects total obedience within his realm – a king with a ladle. Myrethuia and yourself stand out amongst the crowd immediately, between your height and your robes. Your presence does not go unnoticed – the head chef has immediately pivoted from disciplining a heavy-set male servant in dirty robes, and is now heading your way at a high march.
Myrethuia interposes herself and catches the man before he reprimands you for entering his domain - she reminds the man of her identity, introduces you as tonight’s entertainment (at this, the chef’s stern features soften), and finally, you gather the name of the man – Thrinakos. Having smoothed things over, Myrethuia vanishes – no doubt she plans to tell Lady Charima of her discussions with you.
