Centaur tastes like.... Chicken!

So turns out the guy is alright. He didn't stab me, I didn't shoot him, everyone is happy. He did, however, try to warn me not to hang around the dungeon, which was nice. There was a hint of unsteadiness in his voice when he said, but nothing to speak of. It was like he had more than one reason for warning me. Oh well. If he wasn't going to stab me, I wasn't gong to complain.

I moved my hand away from my holster, since the man was obviously not going threaten me. He strode past as he re-sheathed his sword, so I followed out of the dungeon. The smell was beginning to get to me anyway, and, quite honestly, I had two choices: Stay to find out if something other than this guy had killed those centaur, or gone with the man who may have been strong enough to take on two centaur... I voted the latter, for obvious reasons.

We walked out of the dungeon and over toward the fire pit. In the twilight, I could see that the camp was set up recently, as there were still bits of it packed up in the man's bag. It looked like the man was planning on venturing into the cavernous dungeon ahead, which worked just fin for me, since that was the direction I was heading in anyway. How could I possibly pass up the chance of joining forces with a seemingly ridiculously powerful individual when faced with untold amounts of danger?

So I said, "So since neither of us are making a big deal about our being here, and obviously neither of us consider the other to be a threat to our respective persons - i.e. you're not shot, I'm not stabbed - I believe an introduction is order. You already know my name, but my full one at that is Reginald Bligh Falstaff. I am pleased to make your acquaintance! Let's be comrades!"

Maybe that was coming on a bit strong, but hey, given the circumstances, I would have asked to be friends with a retarded bipolar crack junky if he could heft an axe and save me from the odd threat. Besides, imagine the conversations we could pseudo-have!

Anyway, I did thrust forth my hand and he accepted it. We shook and he introduced himself as Ferron. Just Ferron. I'm not sure if there's more to it than that or not, I mean, I gave him MY full name, but not everyone kisses on the first date, right? Anyway all thoughts of the intentions of this Ferron, or the limits of his divulgence, were set on the back-burners when he offered me meat.

Yes!

Yes yes yes yes YES.

Lord, you have no idea how hungry I was when I hopped out of that cab. I doesn't seem to matter how many dead carcasses I come across my apatite needs sating, so I was super happy when big scary Ferron decided to share with me some of his burnt jerky. Tasted a lot like chicken for being pseudo-horse meat...

Next time on "Reginald's Recipe's": Join me as we hunt for rare and delectable dungeon fare, mysterious meats your mom's fridge would be jealous of, and stumble into adventure on the way! Till then,

Reggie