lunch.quest

The Tavern Briefing

The hour grows close. A dim hush settles upon the keyboard, and a question, ancient as the noon-bell, rises among the party: what shall we eat? The dungeon master leans across the round table, candlelight flickering against the rim of a lukewarm coffee. He clears his throat. He spreads the map.

The lunch.quest is no idle skirmish. It demands council, courage, and a willingness to walk three blocks for the good dumplings. Before the party may set forth, all members must declare their hunger, their funds, and their patience. Roll initiative. Begin the briefing.

• ✟ hunger threshold: rising
• ✟ last feast: 17 hours past
• ✟ party morale: cautiously optimistic

The Inventory Check

The barbarian unrolls a leather pouch onto the oak. From within tumbles a bewildering catalogue of half-eaten provisions: a granola bar of indeterminate vintage, three packets of soy sauce, a fortune cookie unfortunately split, and a small jar of pickled radish purchased on a previous quest. The cleric tallies. The rogue eyes the radish.

None of this constitutes lunch. The verdict is unanimous and grave: the party must venture forth.

The Party Vote

A motion is raised. Each adventurer, in turn, casts their vote upon the parchment, and lo, a tally begins. The wizard speaks first — she always does — for she has been thinking about ramen since approximately 9:47 in the morning. The paladin abstains, citing a sacred dietary vow. The rogue insists, as the rogue always insists, on the food truck of dubious permits.

Click an option, traveler, to cast your vote and rebalance the scales. The dumplings yet hold dominion.

The Travel Route

The map is unfurled. The party debates the optimal path between the keep and the dumpling-house. Three roads present themselves: the SHORT WAY (across the construction site, where the foreman is hostile), the SCENIC WAY (through the park, where the geese are hostile), and the SAFE WAY (around the long block, which costs eight precious minutes).

The cleric votes safe. The barbarian, predictably, votes short. The wizard wishes to feed the geese on the way. The rogue is already gone.

The Feast Resolution

Lo, the dumplings arrive in their cardboard chalice, steam rising like the breath of a small benevolent dragon. The paladin breaks chopsticks, an inauspicious omen, but the wizard offers her own and balance is restored. The first bite is consecrated. The second is theological. By the eighth, the questing party has achieved alignment unknown to mortal companies.

Verily, this dipping sauce is the work of the gods themselves. Pass it westward. — Hilfgar, Cleric of the Third Hour

• ✟ hunger restored: 100%
• ✟ reputation with restaurant: legendary
• ✟ chopstick proficiency: +1
• ✟ next side-quest: dessert

Thus ends the briefing of entry the forty-second. The scribe lays down the quill. The dungeon master rolls a perception check. The geese, nine blocks east, plot their next campaign.