The walls? The floors? Marbleized fat caps. The ceiling drips… au jus.
Every hallway is a butcher’s block. Every door is a sausage link curtain. And somewhere in the deepest chamber, the grinds primal cuts into eternal service.
Your sword is useless here. Your fireball will just make things delicious .
Not a legendary sword, but a fork that never bends and a napkin that cleans itself.
