The steady steel of a compact Pandaren chopping knife was making quick work of carrots, potatoes, onions as they fell apart into smaller cubes. Along the other cutting board were what she hoped to be some tender venison. One couldn't know for sure once your hunting party is a pack of worgen. They were instructed to find some meat, and sure as, they brought a large haunch of red marbled meat. It looked like a tender cut. Flayed and gutted, they'd made her job much easier and the blade held no resistance as the steel parted the meat into smaller dice. With a flick, she spun her knife around to use the blunt side to scrape the vegetables and meat into the heated pan of butter and oil. The sound was alluring to the hungry, and the sizzling was music in the courtyard.
You know, they say that food is the path to a man's heart, if such is true, then the majority of the Nightfall Brigade would be fawning over their cook. A woman capable of using her knife skills for more than just her primary responsibility. Liz, or Elizabeth Walthorn, primarily being a member of the reconnaissance unit of the Brigade, had also set her knife skills to help with keeping the Brigade fed - the praise were bountiful.
The wooden skillet slit through the sizzling cubes of vegetables and meat as she poured in a mixture of flour and seasoning pilfered from a saddle-bag bunched to her side. Within, a glorious collection work quick work knives and small packets of salt, paper, some mixed herbs and powders - one could suspect a few work related powders too but Liz had gotten used to people not digging through her belongings.
She heaved a bundle of breads over to a table that had been set up for her to serve out for dinner. A softly chuckle escaped as a worgen with the attempt of dainty finesse, tried to apply and adjust a nearly white table cloth - he swore it was once white. Mr. Turner nodded respectfully as soon as the cloth was how he wanted it, having moved the bread around a little to make it right. He proceeded to stack up some bowls and cutlery while holding a cautious gaze out through the gate.
Seems we're gonna hav' some guests, Liz
he spoke in a gruff voice as he slowly pulled towards the wall for his weapon, it never harmed to be prepared, and he'd rather not feel naked without it while the large group of Alliance members walked up towards them. Tabard told Liz and Ted that they were to be friends, ‘Sword of Menethil' they called themselves. And unlike the name they carried, they weren't here to cause destruction or distress.
Their men and women were diverse in races, much more different compared to the unit of the Nightfall Brigade. these people had welcomed dwarves and gnomes too and they were curious gawking around the manor. Of course, many were met with scowls of the Ravenholt rogues. Basically, they were treated with the same greeting as the Brigade, just less noise.
A few of their members had slowly begun leading themselves towards the delicious aroma of the stew as every stir wafted across the cobbled yard and into the darkening skies. Idle hands were already reaching to collect a bowl as other members had decided to fall into talk with Liz. One man's eyes trying to peer into her deep green pools as he was about to try out one of his flirts but was greeted by a slap with a skillet, sending some of the juices across his chin, leaving him with a hanging slice of onion - and the others laughing. Dinner's served!
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