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Description
Spamotron said:
Off to the Campfire. We could hear a story or two before the race.
Apple Basket’s Help (+4) affects your roll. You roll a 2 +4 (required 10). Partial success.
Moonflower (Cook): 12
Apple Basket (Cook): 14
Moonflower (Cook): 12
Apple Basket (Cook): 14
Having enjoyed the festival’s music to the fullest, you suggest taking a step back from the excitement, and enjoy a relaxing tale by the fire. Your party agrees, and you begin to walk along the northeastern road together.
As the music slowly fades behind you, it is replaced with the chirping of crickets, and the distant rustling of leaves in the brisk evening air. Soon, you reach the crackling campfires tucked away behind the town’s library, by which two dozen ponies warm their hooves and listen to stories.
By each fire, small tables offer trays of marshmallows, chocolates and graham crackers, as well as wooden skewers. By the looks on your and Moonflower’s faces, Apple Basket takes the lead, and grabs a tray with a few skewers, before gesturing for you to come along.
Depsite your adventurous past, you had never had the opportunity to go camping for fun; the Foalshire nights were either too wet, too cold, or both, and after you left, you mostly travelled alone anyway.
You take a seat not far from the unicorn sisters, with whom you exchange smiles and nods, then Apple Basket begins to wordlessly teach you and Moonflower how to prepare s’mores.
With your marshmallows perched over the licking flames, you turn to listen to the librarian’s soft, soothing voice, as he begins to read a new short story.
Plume: “It was the beginning of the colder months, and Equestria’s grassy fields were blanketed in snow. One fair morning, a ragged traveller arrived at the edge of town: a lone unicorn mare with no bags to store food, and but a single gemstone to her name.
Yet upon her back did she carry an old cauldron, and a small bundle of kindling. She made her way to the centre of town, and built a cozy campfire by the roadside. Then, she filled her cauldron at the water fountain, and placed it on the fire.
As she waited for the water to come to a boil, a stallion stopped by to ask her what she was doing. ‘Cooking,’ she replied, before taking her only gemstone, and dropping it into the cauldron. ‘I am making gemstone soup,’ she explained, ‘a magical recipe passed down in my family for generations.’
Curious about the recipe, a few villagers began listening in as the traveller regaled the stallion with tales of her travels. Soon enough, she had attracted a few more ponies to her humble campsite, and found herself recounting her adventures to a small crowd.
Then, she paused to taste a spoonful of her soup. ‘Hmm, this is coming along nicely,’ she said, ‘but a pinch of salt could really help bring out the flavour.’ At the mention of salt, the stallion from earlier offered to get some from his house just across the street. ‘That would be lovely,’ she thanked him.
But suddenly, when the ponies least expected it… your marshmallow caught aflame.”
You gasp, then quickly blow on your burning marshmallow to put it out. Fortunately, Apple Basket has a spare to offer you, and the story resumes over the sweet taste of friendship — and of a delicious treat.
Plume: “With some salt added to the soup, the traveller continued to tell her tales. Of how she had ferried across sea and sky to lands unknown, where knights were clad in onion-shaped armour. When she tasted her soup again, she pondered, ‘Onions, now that would really spice it up.’
A food merchant who had been listening to the stories hurried to her stall down the road, and returned with a gift of onions. ‘Oh, thank you,’ the traveller smiled, ‘you are too kind.’ Then she added them to the cauldron.
The traveller then told the growing crowd of the time she stepped on the very moon, and of the strange rabbits who lived there. ‘Now that I think about it,’ she muttered to herself, ‘a carrot or two would be really nice, too.’
As luck would have it, a farmpony among the crowd who was pulling a cartful of carrots generously offered a few to the traveller. She thanked him, as did she the ponies who later brought her some extra potatoes, and a stalk of celery, and some leftover green beans…
By the time noon rang atop the town’s clocktower, the soup was finally ready. To repay the villagers for listening to her tales, she shared with each of them some of the tastiest soup they had ever tasted: a magical soup made from one gemstone.”
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