As you slide a piece of the barbecued goblin flank into your mouth, you become aware of the complexity of its flavor. It sits somewhere between a three-month-old pork chop and a handful of vomit, scraped from the cobblestones after a day in the sun.
As you slide a piece of the barbecued goblin flank into your mouth, you become aware of the complexity of its flavor. It sits somewhere between a three-month-old pork chop and a handful of vomit, scraped from the cobblestones after a day in the sun.