BFNT: Rastein

Before you near the outskirts of the charming little dig site-turned-town known as Rastein, know that you are being watched.   Your every move is being witnessed by something truly divine: otherworldly, colossal, epic in every sense of the word. The head and shoulders of the Bako Murti always seem to follow, watching, not necessarily judging, but certainly observing.     Regardless, it's gotta be one of the most humbling, wondrous things I've seen here. That's counting the amazing jagged vistas of the Slatetops and the encroaching edge of the Emerald Wood. Like, this is some drop-dead gorgeous territory out here, if you can stand the constant sounds of all the hammering. Readers, trust me, it's well worth the visit, but don't forget to pack some earplugs.   Now, as I was saying earlier, Rastein started as an archaeological dig site. What's now referred to as the Kitchen District is where the old camp canteen was. It slowly grew and was made more permanent over the years, just like the paved roads that devolve back to old dirt cart paths as you get further from the heart of the town. The Kitchen District prides itself on its convenient location, near enough to the town’s housing, yet far enough away from the dig that you only occasionally get little bits of rock and dirt in the soup.   Most of the kitchen staff here in Rastein are Malkari: desert folk, good people, insanely hard-working, and lemme tell ya, those extra arms of theirs are an absolute boon to a line cook.   In fact, as I'm sitting here writing this, I'm watching this guy slicing carrots and dicing onions — at the same time! Another guy is behind him, stirring two soups, flipping burgers, and pulling an inn pan from the oven simultaneously! It's fantastic to just watch them do their thing; it's basically performance art.   Some of my readers may have never left the noble city of Crammin, and therefore might not be too familiar with the Malkari. So in short strokes: they’ve got four arms, a strong connection to the physical and the spiritual (think more in the warrior-poet idiom, less in the “paladin who spends all of his free time at the gym” sense), and almost every one of them takes great personal pride in both their physique and their house gardens. This is likely because their two main gods are into working out and farming.   What this means in my realm is that the herbs are off the chain. As far as freshness and general supply go, the Rastein spice market is legendary. You need a pound of saffron? Talk to the Malkari. Between their networked gardens, they probably have it, and anything else you might be looking for, especially if you’re hunting for more exotic fare.   Being a former desert people, the Malkari are also not shy about what goes into the hand pies you can find at every corner shop in the Kitchen District. Sheep and goat fresh from the Slatetops, or venison and boar from the Emerald. A lot of the more basic agricultural products get shipped in from other places in the Dominion. They might have well-networked gardens here, but the simple limitation of physical space needed for things like corn and potatoes is still in short supply.   The Malkari also provide every gods-damned kind of insect you could think of, in just as many different preparations: fried grasshoppers, ceviche crickets, baked bees, whipped mealworms. The flash-frozen scorpion-on-a-stick they have over at Frosty Ray’s is particularly refreshing on a sunny day like today, and there’s this little bit of zing right at the end of it that’ll keep you digging, that’s for sure. Puts some real pep in your step (if it don’t knock you on your ass outright, first).   It almost reminds me of home, in that just like in Crammin, you don’t want to ask what’s in the stew. I just say, “whatever makes it taste good."

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That's about all for this installment, dear readers, as I'm just about to catch a ferry down the Ores. Next stop: Dondarian!   Just gotta hope the bosun doesn't notice me sneaking onboard. As always...

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