WHEN YOU’RE ROUSTED FROM A warm bed around midnight, it had better be worthwhile. What in the Nine Hells is that racket? Prosatio Silban thought, rolling out of his sleeping berth and onto his galleywagon’s ornate braided rug. Is something…
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Prosatio Silban and the Grave Matter
ALTHOUGH THE UULIANS COMMONLY CREMATE their deceased, it is also common for the bereaved survivors – at least, those with means – to erect quaint stone monuments in favored locations. Rare is the park, garden, or waterside lacking at least…
Prosatio Silban and the Plain Truth
EVEN WHEN HOSPITALITY PROFFESSIONALS ARE “off the clock,” their discourse – like that of the other trades – can’t help but revolve around their livelihoods. “How’s this for a topic?” asked Piriforma Syndro, head chef at epicurean Pormaris’ renowned Diamond…
Prosatio Silban and the Secondhand Saga
IT IS A LONG-SAID saying, and with good reason: “Workers are only as good as their tools.” Prosatio Silban lifted down yet another old pot from the galleywagon’s ceiling-mounted rack, placed it among its fellows in an empty durian-crate, dropped…
Prosatio Silban and the Perfect Colleague
TRYING TO HOLD A CANDLE to someone else is the quickest way to extinguish your own flickering flame. “And then the High Sacreant herself complimented me on yet another job well done,” Egotio Nys said, lifting his expensive drink and…
Prosatio Silban and the Blank Tyranny
ARTISTRY IN ONE ARENA DOES not always guarantee artistry in another. “My proposal is a simple one,” the young man said. “Grant your endorsement, in a few choice words, of my latest cookbook, New Tastes of Pormaris. It is a…
Prosatio Silban and the Free Lunch
IF SOMETHING COMES FROM NOTHING, is it worth the price? Prosatio Silban sighed, and not for the first time that day. How did I come to this? he asked himself. I used to be more thrifty with my pantry and…
Prosatio Silban and The Public Discourse
IT BEGAN, AS SO MANY good tales do, at Pelvhi’s Chopping-House. But it didn’t end there. That bustling asylum for epicurean Pormaris’ vast and varied army of hospitality workers was especially busy for a night in the stormy Season of…
Prosatio Silban and the Avid Inspector
WE ALL HAVE THOSE DAYS when everything goes wrong – but not always do we have someone looking over our shoulder while it does. Prosatio Silban stifled an exasperated sigh. Mustn’t show my impatience, either with her or my circumstances,…
Prosatio Silban and the Minor Plague
SOMETIMES, A SMALL MALADY CAN be a big problem. Prosatio Silban groaned, sat up in his sleeping-berth, and put his head in his hands. If these hiccoughs don’t (hic) end soon, he thought, I will.
Prosatio Silban and the Maker’s Mark
AS THE OLD SAYING GOES, “No one here gets out alive” – or unmarred. “Where did you get that scar?” asked the woman with the flirtatious smile, indicating Prosatio Silban’s right hand. The cook-errant raised one eyebrow and a mouth-corner.…
Prosatio Silban and the Assembly Eclectic
AS THE WISE SAY: “Some aspirations should remain so.” Prosatio Silban put the finishing touches on a plate of fidget-hen confit and pureed artichokes, and stood back to admire it. I don’t know how I do it, but I’m glad…