<div class="floatright">(https://scontent-dfw5-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-9/fr/cp0/e15/q65/35361796_5254466324615447_133453335490461696_o.jpg?_nc_cat=0&amp;efg=eyJpIjoidCJ9&amp;oh=d0f39004f8a309b78e080bf1a8078da2&amp;oe=5BBA65FB)</div><div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><span class="bbc_u"><strong> Margolynn Chambers </strong></span></span></div><br/>A dozen yards from the camp proper, viols played softly, accompanied by a gentle harp in the background. A brass horn picked up the tempo as Margolynn’s magic floated the instrumental side of the Third Act of Magnar the Magnificent. With no tabletop for prep, she sliced salted pork off of a slab like an oyster shucker, drawing the dagger up towards the metal thumbpad of her gauntlet repeatedly.<br/><br/>The thin chunks sizzled in the pan as they joined the potatoes, onion, peppers and oil she was softening on top of the campfire. She began to sing, the voice not at all fitting her slender feminine form. It was the voice of a heavy set man with a drinking problem, an excellent forgery of Magnar as performed by Baldric Tiddle ten years prior at the Larou Theater.<br/><br/>By the time she was adding eggs and a dash of cream to the scramble, she was singing both Magnar and Arieti’s counter point. Arieti was performed by Mignonette Thrush, a tiny tiefling girl whose forked tongue allowed her to hit notes no human could... well, none except Margolynn.<br/><br/>She tended to take cooking duties as much as possible, and well she might! Margolynn had told them she was classically trained by elvish gourmands. Then again, she had also told them that she had worked as the head chef for the Baroness Derais and one time she mentioned with a mix of revulsion mingled with just a touch of hunger the time she had been forced to feed an Orcish brigade while she was hiding amongst them as their mess hall butcher. The story’s highlights included having to cook one of her own party members... she would have abstained from partaking of the roast herself but then there was no vegetarian option in an Orcish war camp!<br/><br/>Margolynn split the servings onto plain wood plates and after a moments observation, she snapped her fingers and the plates shimmered. When the spell finally settled onto the plates, the were bone white with delicate red and gold filigree. She examined them one last time, knowing full well that with cuisine and oral sex, the first taste was made with the eyes. Things tasted better the better they looked!<br/><br/>There was a second correlation between cuisine and oral sex that she referenced far less. No one liked finding a hair on their plate...<br/><br/>Pleased with the camp breakfast, she crushed the sound of the orchestra in her gauntlet, wadding up the illusion and tossing it aside in favor of a deep rams horn call to wake up her the sleepier members of the party. Margolynn had courteously made fresh sugar water tainted with mint for the more... dehydrated companions.