Matt Mercer

Or perhaps something even fancier, like a taste of taldore.

Instantly, you find yourself in a gigantic sizzler.

It's a shitty buffet, greasy tables, breadsticks, a mouse scurries by.

This time the audience laughs uproariously.

Gorn checks his stopwatch, shaking his head.

As you see, tonight we can take our meal anywhere in Exandria, but how to choose?

Why don't we let our special guest and master of security, Tarion Darrington, decide?

Tarion, please, come on up here.

After all, we've read all of his quests.

Why, Mr. Darrington has traveled the world four times over.

Tarion, of all the many exotic locales you have visited, where should we dine tonight?

Googling.

That's where his hometown is from.

Huzzah!

But of course it is humble and yet appealing.

It will remind us all of the days before we were wealthy elites, eh?

I like it a lot.

With a wave of his scepter, the ballroom transforms into a feel-in with its nearby plum groves and the willow shade oil it produces.

No, there's lush tables with white tablecloths, wine.

It's sort of like what you would expect the south of France in the summer to look like.