The dungeon supplies the ingredients. You decide if they're dinner.
At the mouth of a forty-floor dungeon, a patched-up food stall feeds the adventurers heading down —
with ingredients hauled up from below. Glowing mushrooms, humming honey, crabs with shells like granite. And
as of yesterday, you're the one holding the ladle.
Your palate is sharp enough to taste what makes a monster delicious and what makes it dangerous. You'll need
it: a slick rival wants your spot, the regulars are hungry, and the most feared food critic in the land arrives
in seven days. Fire up the grill.
