Shel Lupescu

Svetlana Leveton,'s page

23 posts. Alias of Great Green God.


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"Oh. It's you." says the familiar woman her face a mix of panic, dread and shame. Svetlana looks down at her hands which are wringing the front of her dirty dress. Even the flowers in her hair look wilted. "I-I didn't know you were in town."

"You know each other?" says Mung, who turns to the party. "Well, to mark your happy reunion I can extend to you Svetlana's employee discount!"

"But Mr. Mung." Svetlana attempts to interject.

"Don't worry Svetlana, I'll give yah back yer discount once you've worked off the debt." beams a magnanimous Mung.

"But Mr. Mung, the um-'livestock' has escaped!" Svetlana says.

"WHAT!?!" Mung nearly swallows his tongue in shock. "DON'T GIST STAND THERE WOMAN! WE'VE GOT TO CATCH 'EM AFORE THEY MAKE IT BACK TO DAH SEWERS!"

And with that he races off in the direction Svetlana came from, with Svetlana a step behind. "Sorry."


"Oh, I think it's wonderful. I've never made Oleg's mom's moon radish stew before."


Shepherd Jhod Kavken wrote:
Illthir Winlowe wrote:
Yeah! The feasting part of the feast. The best part! Best of it all, once the spirits rose and the dinner progressed, she got a chance to burst out her dirty songs. And add some more to them, going by the guardsmens stories!
Zokon Santyev wrote:
He even tries to sing along to some of Illthirs songs
"...." {The sort of disapproving look that only your dad or the priest of a relatively conservative religion can level.}

"So Illthir you haven't really told us how you found yourself in need of rescue. I'm sure that story is worth a song." Svetlana says.


OLEG'S TRADING POST

"Well? What did you think?" Svetlana asks hopefully.


OLEG'S TRADING POST

Svetlana appears suddenly, and quickly hustles Illthir, Numalar and Zokon off to the side away from everyone else.

"It's terrible! I've never cooked from a recipe before and I've already burned all the wooden spoons! Do any of you know how to cook by numbers? You must help, please! Otherwise the whole dinner will be ruined! I mean Numalar you've lived in a noble's house, and Illthir I'm sure has entertained at banquets, and Zokon, well, rangers must live off the land, correct? The three of you must know how to craft a simple feast for a meager twenty or so guests."


After a remarkably warm night bedded down in the stable with the other commoners the party makes ready to travel their separate ways, and Svetlana begin worrying about how many spoons she will need given the number of recipes she's planned that require them as ingredients.

"I swear I'll not have a spoon left to eat with."


"Scarlet! When did you get back? Are the others here? Two whole bushels!* Goodness! You must have picked them all. Oh you look sick! Here, sit down. Tell me everything that happened and I'll warm some soup." Svetlana hesitates for a moment as if unsure how to proceed and then ladles some soup into a pot and rushes outside to hang it over the fire.

"Don't start until I get back!" she calls from the hall on her way to the door.

* 70.5 liters!


"Look at the time. Why with helping to prepare the log and all I- it didn't even occur to me how late it was getting." Svetlana says.

"We'll have ta stay the night Ma'am. You want I should have a word with Renault?" Asks Paun soaking from a dip in the dunking tank. (A strangely popular event this evening.)

"No. Oleg would never let me hear the end of it. We'll just have to make do until morning. See if anyone has any spare bedding."

"'Bedding' Ma'am?" Asks Paun.


"That's okay Scarlet. Oleg likes them scramble anyway."


"Can you collect the eggs from the hen house?"

It's not on the map, but abuts the north side of the stable.


Svetlana staggers out in her nightgown and coat. "Hun?" She inquires then yawns. Oleg explains the situation to her.

"Oh? I'll go boil up some water for the coffee."


"I'll start dinner." Svetlana says cheerily.

Cooking stuff up:
Cooking: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26 OMG! She can cook!


"Goodbye! Good Luck!! And don't forget, should you find any moon radishes." ;) "Here, I packed you some lunch."

She hands you a sack with five days worth of trail rations.

"Oh Oleg, wave them goodbye, won't you?"


*sigh....*


"Well so much for a relaxing party." Svetlana says sadly as the mood around the fire wanes.


Zokon Santyev wrote:

Zokon watches the Posh show with a bit of amusement.. he grabs a bowl of stew and sits down to eat all the while keeping an ear and an eye on what's going on.

"Thankyou Svetlana this wonderful fair"

"Thank you! It's an old family recipe."

Profession (cook): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8
"Back in Restov I never used to cook. And Oleg always says 'it's fine.'" She finishes by making a grumpy-looking Oleg face (see below). "But now that I have so many people to practice on, I can finally get an honest opinion. So, what do you all think?"


"We've seen as many as a dozen or so here, but have heard tell of more deeper in the Greenbelt, though no one knows exactly from where. When I first arrived here, we used to visits from druids who wandered the wilds. But we haven't seen them in a long time." Her voice trails off.


Numalar Auritonius wrote:
"There is a woman named Kressle in charge of the nearby camp and she is apparently a terror."

"She is a terror! She threatened to take Oleg's hands if we didn't pay her tribute. There's still a gouge in the dinner table from one of her hatchets."


"Oleg Leveton, you're as bad as Breeg Orlivanch the way you carry on."


"O-LEG!"


"Don't let the food get cold now! Oleg! You put down that hammer and come eat! I swear by Erastil's bow the place will be more nail than wood by the end of summer."


“Who are your friends? Are Bella and Valeska coming? I think I've made enough for all. The guards caught this pig on their way to the fort. They arrived just after you left.” Then she adds sadly. "Too bad it wasn't that old Tuskgutter."

At which point Numalar (and anyone else may explain).


Just then Svetlana appears from her front door.
”Manners men you’re not bandits!”
In quick succession she swats the half-sausage from Pease grasp then takes the centerpiece from Paun (who looked rather at a loss as to where to place it while he was at attention) and put it on the table adjusting individual flowers in the arrangement until she was happy. Satisfied he comes to greet you all when she notices the smell burning pig and elbows Tokin back to rotating the spit.