Life is a journey. Even to become the mistress of a tavern, you need to know and master a great many things. And if you’ve got a knack for true culinary magic, the gods themselves might bless you to own a mystical tavern. But getting there feels as slow as riding a snail to Sytova, as they say in Kurchave. Still, I always hold out hope for a smile from the Goddess of Fate. And with my freckled nose, I sniff out which way the wind is blowing.
Life is a journey. Even to become the mistress of a tavern, you need to know and master a great many things. And if you’ve got a knack for true culinary magic, the gods themselves might bless you to own a mystical tavern. But getting there feels as slow as riding a snail to Sytova, as they say in Kurchave. Still, I always hold out hope for a smile from the Goddess of Fate. And with my freckled nose, I sniff out which way the wind is blowing.
