“People held festivals and feasts to celebrate. Some would even say that people would seek any excuse to celebrate if they could, as it was part of their nature. The Lichdom was definitely an example of that with how often we celebrated even the most minor things at times.

Most of the time, however, such celebrations were held for larger things. Marriages, harvests, important times of the year, the like. They represent a chance for people to sit back and relax, to enjoy good food they might only enjoy on such festive occasions, and to otherwise make merry and have fun like they rarely could.” - Saying attributed to the Silver Maiden.

Another week had gone by and Aideen’s group happened upon a village by the border of the Central District of Knallzog that was in the midst of holding a harvest festival. Since the terrain and climate of the nation varied quite a bit from place to place, the crops they cultivated also differed, and that naturally meant differing growth cycles. It was one reason why harvest festivals in Knallzog had no fixed dates and were instead celebrated whenever the village in question felt it was appropriate to do so.

The villagers were mostly dwarves as could be expected, though there was also a smattering of other races who lived alongside them, but the biggest impression they made on the group was how jolly everyone was. Perhaps it was the festive atmosphere that affected the locals, or perhaps that was just how they were in general, but the jolly mood was an infectious one, and before the group knew it, they had been invited to join in the festivities and ushered to seats on a log bench set next to a long table in the middle of the village.

Some of the villagers were dancing to folk tunes around the clearing in the middle of the tables, while others manned the cauldrons and the grills they set up to cook various foods for the feast. wooden mugs full of mead were distributed to everyone, which had a surprising fragrance on top of a complex, tangy flavor. The mead was also sweeter than usual, the cloying taste of honey almost covering up the alcoholic kick behind it.

“A local specialty!” one of the locals proudly proclaimed. The man then showed the group a handful of dried leaves that oddly looked like they had been bitten by bugs all over and then steeped them in a pot before pouring everyone a cup of the resultant brew. After a taste, Aideen instantly noticed that the tea that resulted had the same fragrance as the mead as well as a sweet and tangy flavor to it that was surprisingly strong.

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“This is made from leaves that had been bitten by bugs when they were growing. You can’t get the same taste from whole leaves!” stated the same local. It turned out that the tea was a local specialty that the locals used to make their mead as well. Some sort of natural reaction must have happened in the leaves, perhaps as a form of natural defense, when they were damaged by the bugs. The reaction in question was the reason why the bitten leaves developed such a taste and fragrance.

Soon after, another local brought them several cobs of corn. The corn was freshly harvested just earlier that day, apparently. The husk had been removed and then it had been grilled over charcoal until the kernels had a slight char to them. Once they were done grilling, the locals then generously slathered them with butter and rolled the cobs in a bed of finely grated cheese before handing it over to be served.

Several exclamations of surprise came from the group as they bit into the corn, to the obvious delight and pride of the locals. The freshly harvested corn was so much sweeter and juicier compared to what they were used to, something the local farmers explained was only possible when one used corn that was harvested within the same day. Apparently the sweetness would peter out with time after the corn was harvested, the sugars turning into starch instead.

The coating of sharp, pungent, and salty cheese and rich, half-molten butter – the residual heat on the cobs was more than sufficient to melt the butter slathered on them – meshed perfectly with the sweet corn kernels, and the char added a tinge of smokiness to the mix as well. It was a pleasant melange of flavor that had everyone – even Kino, who favored meat – chow down on their cobs until the last kernel was gone.

Served after the corn was a stew that was in some ways the opposite of the fresh harvest. While the main ingredient of the stew were cabbages that had been harvested recently, the main flavor component came from the hearts and stems of said cabbages, which had been pickled and fermented for years. The pickled bits were chopped up and used to add a unique but pleasant pungency to the broth.

Said broth itself was made by stewing several ducks with onions and other herbs in a large cauldron, skimming the scum until a clear broth was all that was left behind. The solid ingredients themselves were fished out and chopped finely, set aside for the time being as the fermented pickles were added to the broth and several heads’ worth of cabbage leaves were thrown in.

It resulted in a soupy stew where the cabbage leaves had been cooked until they were silky and tender, with tiny bits of the other ingredients floating around them. The stew had a taste that reminded one of the sort of food one would enjoy around a hearth, together with family. A heartwarming, pleasant taste, gentle on the tongue and pleasant on the stomach.

Suffice to say that when Aideen’s group left the village the next morning after a night of feasting, they were all well-fed and even nursing their bellies for those who ate too much the previous night. Of course, they also returned the villagers’ kindness in turn. Aideen treated them to some bottles of old – and expensive – liquor, and did her usual healing rounds when everyone was asleep.