Post by Julian Forbes on Apr 9, 2007 12:42:44 GMT -5
One of the beautiful facets of the typical European town is that the architecture hasn't normally made it out of the Dark Ages. The medieval look about many of the small houses and stores doesn't speak for the modern quality that holds these buildings up, but opens the mind to an era in the distant past. Of knightly orders that made safe the lands, of towering castles that rose above the countryside and city walls, and of lordly kings that ruled their lands with a benevolent hand. After all, Europe was the birth place of chivalry and these people had a lot of things to be proud about. And in the magical sections of various cities, it was almost as if one stepped through a portal back into the past. Robed wizards conversed, purchased, consumed, and frolicked between the various establishments and stalls.
Also European towns were famed for their outdoor restaurants and at one such establishment of the name Cunicelli's sit a man at a table for one. A few things that made the man strange were his outlandish garb that set him apart from most wizards. He wore dark green robes with a surcoat of crimson red covering them. Upon his head seat a hat in the Elizabethan style made of black felt and with a purple plume. The man looked as if he had been pulled out of the Globe Theatre and placed in the modern world of wizards. However the man's face was obscured by a rather large menu that he was intently reading. This was a respectable Italian establishment and like any restaurant that fancied itself as such it had a vast menu. This particular menu had 16 appetizers, 24 pasta entrees, 22 seafood dishes, 15 desserts and over a hundred labels of wine. The problem with such a menu is that one can never make the perfect combination with massive grief.
Stroking his neat beard and goatee, the man waved a waiter over with his right hand and asked, "Pardon me, my fine fellow but I can't seem to make up my mind about what to choose and I'd rather eat something than sit here drooling over all these succulent looking dishes. Perhaps you could recommend something to me to save me from this grief. What's today's special?" Perking up immensely at being asked his professional opinion the waiter replied excitedly, "Signor, our special today is chicken alfredo with the chef's special roux. The roux is very fine, very delicate, and has an exquisite taste enhanced with a hint of prima donna and oregano. And..."
"Enough, enough my friend", chuckled the seated man, his form shaking with mirth. "Clearly you're very proud of this dish, so I'll take that for my meal. I would also like some fried calamari, a casear salad, some bruschetta and a bottle of Montalcino to start off things. And then later we'll see about dessert, alright?" That's what one gets from being raised in a former Italian territory where Italian is still the major form of communication; the innate desire to eat good food and lots of it. Surprisingly though that hadn't caught up to the man yet cause he was only 27 and keep himself at a decent physique; enough to attract a passerby's glance. "Thank you very much Signor, and now the menu if you please and I'll bring your wine out to you immediately. " An awkward and protracted silence immediately proceeded to unfold.
"Please Signor, I need the menu back."
"I'd rather you not take it friend. "
"Be reasonable Signor! It's just paper and you can't be that ugly if you dress in clothing like that. Come, come; the menu Signor."
"Fine friend; just don't over-react about this."
As the man handed the menu back the waiter, the waiter took a step back nervously. The man's face was certainly not ugly, but picturesque of someone from the High Middle Ages. Every feature charming and handsome save for one. The man's eyes were a foggy grey and it was very hard to spot the actual pupil hidden behind that screen. It was the mark of the Seer, something his mother had passed down to him through birth, but a trait he never had inherited. "Forgive me Signor, please spare me," begged the waiter, "Do not cast the Evil Eye upon me and my house." Sighing, the man with black hair and a complexion that balanced between the Mediterranean olive and a slightly tanned Englishman shook his head. "I told you friend not to over-react. I'm not a Seer; I wasn't blessed to have that gift and if I ever was bestowed that power why would I cast the Evil Eye upon you, a man I barely know, and one that is serving me a meal at that."
"Signor..." said the waiter weakly, "You know you could probably get those eyes of yours fixed up at the Castle. A great man has come here from England only one year ago, and he has already set up a large university for magical children. Perhaps this man could help you?" The man with the foggy eyes locked a glance at the waiter, who trembled slightly, and then the man known as Julian Forbes stared off into the distance while he muttered, "A magical institution...it would seem my redemption can still be achieved. Tell me friend, who runs this school and it is 50 galleons for you." The waiter's eyes widened at the display of generosity and he quickly responded, "His name is Senor Windwaltz. He started this school, and just recently he defeated a secret society of dark wizards! This man is a genuine hero Signor, and if anyone can help you out it's him."
"Methinks that I ought to pay this Senor Windwaltz a visit," murmured Forbes as he still stared off into the distance. Glancing back over his shoulder, Julian dug into his robes and pulled out a 50 galleon piece and flipped it over to the waiter. Seeing the man still standing there, admiring the gold piece, Julian said in a jocular tone, "Come Sir. You've gotten your reward and now I am hungry! Haven't you been told never to keep a hungry Italian from waiting?" As the waiter hurried off, Julian leaned back into his chair and took in the rest of the day as it came.
Also European towns were famed for their outdoor restaurants and at one such establishment of the name Cunicelli's sit a man at a table for one. A few things that made the man strange were his outlandish garb that set him apart from most wizards. He wore dark green robes with a surcoat of crimson red covering them. Upon his head seat a hat in the Elizabethan style made of black felt and with a purple plume. The man looked as if he had been pulled out of the Globe Theatre and placed in the modern world of wizards. However the man's face was obscured by a rather large menu that he was intently reading. This was a respectable Italian establishment and like any restaurant that fancied itself as such it had a vast menu. This particular menu had 16 appetizers, 24 pasta entrees, 22 seafood dishes, 15 desserts and over a hundred labels of wine. The problem with such a menu is that one can never make the perfect combination with massive grief.
Stroking his neat beard and goatee, the man waved a waiter over with his right hand and asked, "Pardon me, my fine fellow but I can't seem to make up my mind about what to choose and I'd rather eat something than sit here drooling over all these succulent looking dishes. Perhaps you could recommend something to me to save me from this grief. What's today's special?" Perking up immensely at being asked his professional opinion the waiter replied excitedly, "Signor, our special today is chicken alfredo with the chef's special roux. The roux is very fine, very delicate, and has an exquisite taste enhanced with a hint of prima donna and oregano. And..."
"Enough, enough my friend", chuckled the seated man, his form shaking with mirth. "Clearly you're very proud of this dish, so I'll take that for my meal. I would also like some fried calamari, a casear salad, some bruschetta and a bottle of Montalcino to start off things. And then later we'll see about dessert, alright?" That's what one gets from being raised in a former Italian territory where Italian is still the major form of communication; the innate desire to eat good food and lots of it. Surprisingly though that hadn't caught up to the man yet cause he was only 27 and keep himself at a decent physique; enough to attract a passerby's glance. "Thank you very much Signor, and now the menu if you please and I'll bring your wine out to you immediately. " An awkward and protracted silence immediately proceeded to unfold.
"Please Signor, I need the menu back."
"I'd rather you not take it friend. "
"Be reasonable Signor! It's just paper and you can't be that ugly if you dress in clothing like that. Come, come; the menu Signor."
"Fine friend; just don't over-react about this."
As the man handed the menu back the waiter, the waiter took a step back nervously. The man's face was certainly not ugly, but picturesque of someone from the High Middle Ages. Every feature charming and handsome save for one. The man's eyes were a foggy grey and it was very hard to spot the actual pupil hidden behind that screen. It was the mark of the Seer, something his mother had passed down to him through birth, but a trait he never had inherited. "Forgive me Signor, please spare me," begged the waiter, "Do not cast the Evil Eye upon me and my house." Sighing, the man with black hair and a complexion that balanced between the Mediterranean olive and a slightly tanned Englishman shook his head. "I told you friend not to over-react. I'm not a Seer; I wasn't blessed to have that gift and if I ever was bestowed that power why would I cast the Evil Eye upon you, a man I barely know, and one that is serving me a meal at that."
"Signor..." said the waiter weakly, "You know you could probably get those eyes of yours fixed up at the Castle. A great man has come here from England only one year ago, and he has already set up a large university for magical children. Perhaps this man could help you?" The man with the foggy eyes locked a glance at the waiter, who trembled slightly, and then the man known as Julian Forbes stared off into the distance while he muttered, "A magical institution...it would seem my redemption can still be achieved. Tell me friend, who runs this school and it is 50 galleons for you." The waiter's eyes widened at the display of generosity and he quickly responded, "His name is Senor Windwaltz. He started this school, and just recently he defeated a secret society of dark wizards! This man is a genuine hero Signor, and if anyone can help you out it's him."
"Methinks that I ought to pay this Senor Windwaltz a visit," murmured Forbes as he still stared off into the distance. Glancing back over his shoulder, Julian dug into his robes and pulled out a 50 galleon piece and flipped it over to the waiter. Seeing the man still standing there, admiring the gold piece, Julian said in a jocular tone, "Come Sir. You've gotten your reward and now I am hungry! Haven't you been told never to keep a hungry Italian from waiting?" As the waiter hurried off, Julian leaned back into his chair and took in the rest of the day as it came.