A master chef known throughout the world, he is hailed as a wondrous marvel. He is considered the greatest cook in the entire kingdom due to his masterful use of spices. His flavors were so powerful that even the king himself makes personal orders of his cooking weekly. It is said that his cooking even has the power to heal one’s mind and cure sickness. People would line the streets when he would have a wild thought on a new recipe and would spend hours in his cellar perfecting the next great meal. The smells that poured through the walls of his home would lash out at those in his hometown in Hillsbrad and take them on a mind-blowing adventure of the senses. The king so loved his food, he sent able paladins to guard his secrets day and night so that no false chef could steal and ruin the masters’ work. Despite their best efforts, treachery befell the master as he worked endlessly in his cellar. An explosion that rocked the town could only be the work of a jealous rival. To whom that rival was could have never been found for the master had none. His death was mourned throughout the land and whole towns went without food for a week in mourning and they had forgotten how to cook themselves. There shall never be another master such as this…
…And there never was to begin with.
In truth, this “master” was actually quite the terrible cook. His cooking was indeed known throughout the world, but only as the worst food anyone had every stomached. Then again, most stomachs could do little to keep his food down. His “masterful” use of spices was mainly whatever was within his reach for that day. Often the smells that came out of his cellar did overtake the town, filling the minds of the villagers with adventures of the most foul. The king did indeed try his food (though he thought it was someone else’s at first) and was so distraught at what he ate, he sent seasoned paladins to make sure that disaster never reached the mouths of the innocent ever again. Despite their best efforts, this madman continued to work in his cellar creating various horrors to be released onto the world. Through treachery or an act of mercy upon the town, an explosion rocked the town one glorious night freeing the world of this plague spreader. No one mourned the passing of this man and his works. In fact, his rivals, his betters, hosted a festival in honor of the day the smog was lifted freeing the town of the horrible smells that came from his house. The festival would last a whole week and the people of the land would eat wondrous food never known to them. They had vowed to never allow such a master of death cooking to haunt them again…
And then the Lich King showed up…
That night in his cellar, Malerus had been making his greatest creation ever. Surrounded in his small room were over one thousand spices from around the world, most of which he never used. Reaching for everything he could, spice, highly flammable oils, a cat, lint in his pocket and some even say a touch of gas that powered Gnomish machines, all these things went into his pot. Caring nothing of his safety, he continued to mix and mix and mix until he at last decided to fire his cooking stove. Only then did he learn that gas was probably not the best thing to use as his primary flavor in his broth. The explosion completely incinerated him and his house. The heat was so intense; all of the spices that surrounded him became fused with his melting brain as he died. It had been some time before he would open his eyes and see the sun again. He did not know how or why, but he was alive once again and the first thing he had noticed when he took a deep breath, was everything, smelled, AWESOME! It did not matter what he looked like or how decayed his body had become. What mattered was how hungry he was and no matter what he looked at he could take a deep breath and everything smelt edible to him. He ate grass, awesome, he ate grubs, awesome, he ate a cat, awesome and then he found a human tending the fields. He happily walked up to the man, scaring him half to death, took a big happy bite of the man and chewed. His thoughts were mixed at this point; he was not sure what to think of this new meal. Then he remembered he had a salt shaker in his pocket when he died. He applied the extra spice to the rest and chewed again…AWESOME!
Everything he ate tasted soooo good. The spices burned into his brain had somehow awakened his taste to a whole new level. To further the experience, he gathered random things which became his stuff (even if it did belong to the tasty farmer) and set out to eat everything.
…And there never was to begin with.
In truth, this “master” was actually quite the terrible cook. His cooking was indeed known throughout the world, but only as the worst food anyone had every stomached. Then again, most stomachs could do little to keep his food down. His “masterful” use of spices was mainly whatever was within his reach for that day. Often the smells that came out of his cellar did overtake the town, filling the minds of the villagers with adventures of the most foul. The king did indeed try his food (though he thought it was someone else’s at first) and was so distraught at what he ate, he sent seasoned paladins to make sure that disaster never reached the mouths of the innocent ever again. Despite their best efforts, this madman continued to work in his cellar creating various horrors to be released onto the world. Through treachery or an act of mercy upon the town, an explosion rocked the town one glorious night freeing the world of this plague spreader. No one mourned the passing of this man and his works. In fact, his rivals, his betters, hosted a festival in honor of the day the smog was lifted freeing the town of the horrible smells that came from his house. The festival would last a whole week and the people of the land would eat wondrous food never known to them. They had vowed to never allow such a master of death cooking to haunt them again…
And then the Lich King showed up…
That night in his cellar, Malerus had been making his greatest creation ever. Surrounded in his small room were over one thousand spices from around the world, most of which he never used. Reaching for everything he could, spice, highly flammable oils, a cat, lint in his pocket and some even say a touch of gas that powered Gnomish machines, all these things went into his pot. Caring nothing of his safety, he continued to mix and mix and mix until he at last decided to fire his cooking stove. Only then did he learn that gas was probably not the best thing to use as his primary flavor in his broth. The explosion completely incinerated him and his house. The heat was so intense; all of the spices that surrounded him became fused with his melting brain as he died. It had been some time before he would open his eyes and see the sun again. He did not know how or why, but he was alive once again and the first thing he had noticed when he took a deep breath, was everything, smelled, AWESOME! It did not matter what he looked like or how decayed his body had become. What mattered was how hungry he was and no matter what he looked at he could take a deep breath and everything smelt edible to him. He ate grass, awesome, he ate grubs, awesome, he ate a cat, awesome and then he found a human tending the fields. He happily walked up to the man, scaring him half to death, took a big happy bite of the man and chewed. His thoughts were mixed at this point; he was not sure what to think of this new meal. Then he remembered he had a salt shaker in his pocket when he died. He applied the extra spice to the rest and chewed again…AWESOME!
Everything he ate tasted soooo good. The spices burned into his brain had somehow awakened his taste to a whole new level. To further the experience, he gathered random things which became his stuff (even if it did belong to the tasty farmer) and set out to eat everything.