"River traffic to and from Alfheim was always bustling, but much like the land routes, were always plagued by wild beasts and monster attacks on a regular basis.

For this very reason, most sailors who plied the rivers for their living tend to be skilled combatants, used to dealing with attacks from beasts. For this reason, piracy never developed in these waterways.

The locals knew better than to mess with the sailors around." - Garth Wainwrought, Dean of the Levain Institute for Higher Learning, formerly professor of Socioeconomics.

"So, do attacks like these happen often?" Cal asked the old captain later that evening, as the passengers, now calmed down since the beasts stopped attacking, joined the sailors in a brewing party right on the deck.

"I can't say it's uncommon around here," replied the old elf honestly as he caressed his long, silky beard. The man was nonchalantly munching on a skewer of roasted monster meat while he walked. "But not exactly that commonplace either. You see, these beasties aren't that clever, but they have enough brains to equate size and numbers as power, so they usually avoid large convoys."

"And we are but a lone ship on the river," said Cal as she nodded in understanding. She herself sipped on a bowl of thick soup, loaded with bits of meat from the beasts that were harvested, some pungent vegetables, and thickened with eggs and cornflour. It had a pleasant mouthfeel, with a savory taste tinged with a pleasant bit of astringency. "So they thought the ship as prey ripe for the picking."

"That is indeed the case," admitted the old captain as he grabbed a mug of ale from a passing sailor who was carrying a tray full of them. "That said, me and my dear River Princess had traversed these waters for centuries by now. Little critters like these aren't worth a mention, so rest easy, as we shall reach our destination on schedule."

Cal nodded to the reassurance. She was not exactly worried much, and calmly strolled around the deck, where many of the passengers had crowded over to watch how the sailors prepared the beasts they fought just hours ago into some delicious dinner.

She walked towards where a young sailor was dexterously cooking dozens of skewers of marinated meat over a bed of charcoal. The skewers seemed to dance in his hands as he repeatedly fanned them out and gathered them once more, earning some appreciative oohs and aahs from the watching crowd.

He happened to finish cooking the current batch shortly after Cal arrived, and placed them aside for the passengers to take, while he started anew with a fresh batch of skewers, still dripping with marinade.

Cal got herself a couple of skewers as she passed, and gave them a try as she walked. The meat itself had a rather familiar taste, not unlike the large, predatory eel she once caught on the southern shores of Knallzog years ago.

The main difference was in the marinade, she found. While the villagers back then used a sweet-savory sauce to baste the meat, the sailors here favored stronger flavors heavily laden with spices.

With a bite Cal could taste a complex mixture of spices that must have gone into the marinade, which meshed well with the fatty, savory meat. The spiciness also helped make the meat taste less greasy despite its copious amount of fat.

Another sailor was frying batch after batch of fritters in a massive wok full of oil right on the deck. The stand must have been stabilized somehow for the shaking of the boat had not seemed to disturb the wok in the slightest.

Cal accepted a plate full of them from another sailor who was distributing plates of fritters to interested passengers. Some were expected flavors, the beast meat was lightly seasoned with salt and pepper under a thin, crisp crust of batter. To accompany it, onions and eggplants were similarly battered and fried to cut down on the rich tastes.

What surprised her were some small, striplike morsels which filled her mouth with a strong, pungent spiciness when she bit into it. It was some sort of local ginger, also battered and fried, and served as a sort of palate cleanser.

There were also spears of pickled cucumbers that were battered and fried. Their refreshing tanginess made for an excellent way to finish the snacks, as it helped remove the grease from having snacked on so much fried foods.

Over where some tables were set up, the main dish was served. Fillets of the beasts were stuffed with a mixture of sticky, glutinous rice, spices and dried fruits, then tied up and braised in a spicy sauce that contained more bits of meat, all done in a massive pot that could handle the several of the smaller beasts whole.

Then the large chunks were fished out after a while, and chopped into circles roughly two finger's width thick, and served with a helping of the braising sauce on top. Most passengers took a slice or two, though some big eaters - Cal noticed her students amongst them - took as much as their plates could hold.

She took several for herself, and found them quite enjoyable. The meat was rich, savory and well spiced, while the stuffing had absorbed the flavors of the sauce and the meat around it, while also adding a nice chewy, sticky texture to the amalgam.

Dessert was served later, apparently the work of the pastry chefs amongst the crew. Cal was not surprised in the slightest that the crew actually brought some specialist chefs around, as the ship was primarily a passenger ship after all.

Some soft, airy cakes shaped like a half-moon were flavored with cheese or fruits, and were cooked by the dozens on a specialized griddle. Another table offered densely packed squares of glutinous rice, with either marmalade or sweetened desiccated coconut on top of it.

At yet another table, a mass of chopped nuts and dried fruits were mixed with crisped, puffed rice, and bound together with a thick syrup of honey mixed with thickeners. The resulting mass was then flattened and rolled, before cut into finger-sized rods.