Dufiro foods

Dufiro Plates

1	2	Fried Gregens	Fire Boiled Ashoga These popular street foods are sold boiled in chili oil and inhabited by a fire elemental. They are rumored to be in the 3 million scovile units
		Turducken Mini Dogs in sauce
		Grfopduf in a Naodipw sauce	Fliiijj and Poog on pasta
Sonoran Dogs (one of RaphaX's Favorites)	Mock Gaack with Iggesh dipping sauce
	Fekkeck Eggs w/ Dag Oysters	Gruenschlick, Vaalgschlick & Sydkfvn	Yuggo Filets w/ pickled Nimjp
Fried Ashoga
5 Breakfast: Eggs & Hash Browns. Sausage. Fried jalapeno. Fried Dough. Dipping sauces			Sausage biscuits with Ganas green sauce
Biscuits and Dive Turkey gravy	Beef Sausage with Fire Bites	Red Orange Juice	200px]]	2200px
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Breakfast conversation about eating dufiro inhabited food

Breakfast in Ahyk, a Dufiro Dufirosm

The adventuring crew gathered around a long, polished stone table at the Dufirosm restaurant. Morning light filtered through crystalline windows, casting multicolored patterns across their plates. Despite the inviting aromas wafting from the dishes, tension simmered among the group.

Rafe, Dalt, Sylex, Bently, Olive, Runner, and Elmer eyed the spread with varying levels of curiosity and caution.

“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” Bently began, leaning back confidently in his chair. “I ordered for everyone—except Sylex. She’s... well, particular. But trust me, I wouldn’t serve you anything vile. I’ve lived with you all at Ludus Daltus for over a year. I know what you eat.” His voice was warm, though there was an undercurrent of pride in his tone.

He gestured to the platters: golden hash browns glistening with oil, fried jalapenos, crisp dough dusted with fiery powder and sugar, and eggs—perfectly cooked and steaming. Bowls of sausage biscuits smothered in a mysterious green sauce sat next to carafes of vivid red-orange juice and steaming coffee.

Dalt frowned, prodding at a sausage with his fork. “What kind of meat is this?”

Bently gave a reassuring smile. “Pork. Well, a kind of pork.”

That earned a dubious look.

Rafe and Elmer, unfazed, began piling food onto their plates with gusto. “Tastes good to me,” Rafe said through a mouthful, his carefree demeanor infectious.

Olive picked up a biscuit drenched in green sauce and sniffed it, her nose crinkling. “This sauce smells... weird.”

“It’s a milk-based sauce,” Bently explained. “Blended with sausage, jalapenos, and a mildly narcotic leafy green. Nothing too intense.”

Olive froze. “Narcotic?”

“Dear, I know your taste in recreational substances,” Bently teased with a wink. “Trust me—you’ll like it.”

Runner, ever analytical, picked up a sausage from the communal platter and gave it a cautious sniff. His sharp eyes narrowed. “These are spicy—750,000 Scoville at least. What’s in them?”

Before Bently could reply, Sylex, the group’s tortured soul, interjected. “They’re similar to the Fire-Boiled Ashoga from yesterday. A fire elemental inhabits the... let’s call it a pig. Once it’s slaughtered, the meat retains its spice. This one’s infused with thyme and fennel. Perfectly balanced. Try it.”

Runner took a hesitant bite, his face betraying his internal calculations. After a moment, he nodded. “Edible.”

With that approval, Runner began fixing a plate, his precision in arranging food almost ceremonial.

Bently’s voice softened, tinged with pride as he looked around the table. “We Dufirosm are like most races in the Shadowlands—we have our passions, professions, and powers. But we also live to serve, in our way. A Dufio prepared this meal. I wouldn’t lead you astray.”

Rafe raised his coffee cup in a toast, grinning. “Here’s to trusting Bently not to poison us.”

The table broke into chuckles, and slowly, one by one, they all began to eat. By the time the plates were half-empty, the laughter and camaraderie that had carried them through countless adventures returned, reminding them why they were here—together.

Fire and Flavor

As the group ate, their curiosity deepened. Dalt finally voiced the question that had been simmering in his mind. Between bites of fried dough, he asked, “So... fire elementals inhabit animals to make them spicy. Then the animals are butchered. Doesn’t that kill the elemental?”

Bently paused, setting down his coffee. “No, it doesn’t. It’s actually a profession for them,” he explained. “Think of elementals as the adolescent phase of a Dufiro’s life cycle. They’re like teenagers learning the ropes. Runner, didn’t you tell us about your first job at that Scottish restaurant... what was it called? McDonald’s Place?”

The humans chuckled, picturing the golden arches rebranded in Bently’s peculiar terminology. Runner rolled his eyes but smirked, allowing the humor to slide.

“Animal inhabiting,” Bently continued, “is often a first occupation for fire elementals. They gain reputation and treasure from it, which they can use to evolve into Spasa. Of course, not all of them bother. Some make a good living staying in the inhabiting trade. I was no exception. I started life as an air elemental.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow. “You? An air elemental? Didn’t see that coming.”

Bently grinned, a flicker of nostalgia in his expression. “Oh, yes. I spent years in bakeries managing airflow in ovens—ensuring perfect crusts on breads and pastries. Later, I transitioned to event work, controlling breezes at outdoor gatherings. Air elementals may not be as dramatic as fire elementals, but we’re invaluable.”

He puffed out his chest slightly. “Eventually, I gained Change Elemental status. That’s where I truly made my mark. Change Elementals are rare, and I partnered with a distiller who was an Avasa of Growth. Together, we crafted extraordinary spirits—thyme vodkas, Galva Habenrao gins, and raw, powerful rums. I could inhabit the base spirits and imbue them with bold, unique flavors.”

Runner nodded appreciatively. “So you became a master of fermentation and aging?”

“Exactly!” Bently said, clearly pleased by the recognition. “Beers and wines were my specialty. I’d inhabit a wine tun for just a few hours each day, ensuring the perfect balance as it aged. No risk of spoiling, no accidental vinegar.”

The group listened intently as he continued, his voice carrying the pride of someone who’d truly lived. “Eventually, I returned to bakeries and refined my craft even further. That’s how I earned connections to gain the Hue and Sound elemental forms. Through these, I’ve been able to work on even more complex projects.”

Sylex, usually reserved, chimed in. “As a water elemental, I did something similar. I inhabited sea life—mussels, abalone, crabs, lobsters. They grew larger and meatier under my care. Many Avasa Dufiro specialize in enhancing food through inhabiting. It makes whatever we inhabit not just better, but extraordinary. Of course, most of those Avasa only have one form.”

Bently nodded. “True, but some take it a step further. There’s a profession for that—Feeders. It’s not a race, but a calling. One I know, Xirix, is a master Feeder. He’s an Air Dufiro with Health forms, spanning Air Spasa, Avasa, and Masoja stages. He inhabits animals and manipulates their growth over generations. He turned a 200-pound goat into a breed of 2,400-pound giants in just ten or eleven generations. Those Goatalos are a staple meat source in many worlds. Also a stable milk source.He also developed the Dive Turducken. Those were a bit of a mistake but he loves them. They went wild, escaping domestication. They are a fierce, fat hunting bird. The size of an ostrich, 15' wingspan, and mean as rabid Kaclin”

Elmer, who rarely spoke during group discussions, surprised everyone by chiming in. “Sounds dicey. What if the animal he’s in gets killed?”

Sylex answered calmly. “The elemental is simply released. No harm done.”

The table fell silent for a moment as the group digested the implications—both figuratively and literally. The intricacies of elemental life and their role in the culinary world were as layered and rich as the food they were enjoying. Rafe broke the quiet with a smirk.

“Well, I’ll say this much—this might be the spiciest breakfast conversation I’ve ever had.”

Laughter erupted, and the group returned to their meal, the bonds of trust and curiosity among them stronger than ever.

Salt of the Earth

After several bites of food, Rafe set down his fork and turned to Bently, a glint of mischief lighting up his eyes. “I couldn’t help but notice,” he began with feigned casualness, “that you forgot to mention both Change and Earth Elementals in the context of food. Hope it’s not personal.”

Bently raised an eyebrow, instantly catching the playful jab. He knew Rafe’s dual affinities for Change and Earth were no secret. Around the table, the others perked up, sensing another round of insight—or perhaps just an excuse to tease Bently.

Rafe leaned back, swirling his coffee. “When I was at Shifter’s Hall, I visited the cafeteria there—my first encounter with Dufiro food and its preparation. It made sense that a Changer could turn one edible into another, but I hadn’t realized how crucial Earth was to the process.”

He paused, a wistful smile crossing his face. “I met a Dufiro there named Jasgl—a Change Elemental, Earth Spasa, and Blending Spasa. He made me an excellent meal, but it was his boss, an Avasa of Earth and Blending, who really left an impression. Best cup of coffee I’ve ever had. I remember what he told me: ‘Earth is often thought brutish, but things of the earth are ours.’ His name was Dyjik.”

Bently nodded, conceding the point with a slight smile. “I didn’t mention Earth or Change because, well, they get complicated in the food industries. It wasn’t an intentional omission.”

With a dramatic pause, he picked up the coffee pot and refilled his mug, savoring the moment. “But since you bring it up…”

The others leaned in slightly as Bently took a sip of his coffee, clearly relishing the attention.

“Change Elementals are too rare to make broad generalizations about,” he began, “but many I’ve known worked in... recycling, for lack of a better term. While they can’t quite turn lead into gold—not in their early stages—they can transform ruined materials into something valuable. Take a destroyed house, for example: its wood and fabric could be reworked into bolts of cloth, repurposed for the markets or fashion districts. Broken timbers and paneling can be pressed into aggregate boards, decorative veneers, or construction-grade materials.

“Avasa of Change? They’re something else entirely. They can transform rough pine into fine ebony—raw lumber or finished furniture alike. Change Masoja? That’s when you get into the legendary feats—turning lead into gold or crafting alchemical wonders.”

Rafe smirked. “I knew a Masoja who turned kitchen scraps into a feast once. Not exactly gold, but just as valuable when you’re hungry.”

“Exactly,” Bently said with a grin, raising his cup. “Now, as for Earth Elementals…”

He set the mug down with a soft clink. “Earth Elementals, especially young ones, often inhabit the land itself—farms, troughs, refuse pits. While they don’t yet possess the precision of Earth Spasa or Avasa, and certainly not Masoja, they can work wonders on a large scale. A single Earth Elemental might inhabit a 100-square-kilometer plot, enriching the soil, keeping weeds and pests at bay, and ensuring crops thrive.”

Olive wrinkled her nose. “Sounds glamorous.”

“Not always,” Bently admitted with a chuckle. “Some also manage... wet refuse.”

“Wet refuse?” Runner asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Exactly what you’re imagining,” Bently said dryly. “They inhabit areas where food scraps, rinds, and liquid waste are dumped, cycling it all into rich, fertile soil. It’s an essential part of the farm rotation here. Messy work, but vital.”

Sylex, who had been quietly enjoying the conversation, finally spoke up. “Experienced Earth Elementals, and many Earth Spasa, also work with undertakers. They process the dead—those without elaborate tombs or rites. They even craft tombstones.”

The table fell silent for a moment, reflecting on the breadth of responsibilities elementals took on. Elmer, ever blunt, broke the pause. “You’re telling me Earth Elementals are out there composting people?”

Sylex shrugged. “Death is no reprieve from duty, as the saying goes. Besides, it’s practical.”

Bently chimed in with a wry smile. “If it makes you feel better, they’re quite good at it. And some of those tombstones? Masterpieces.”

Dalt frowned, his curiosity clearly piqued. “I thought Dufiro were immortal?”

Bently’s expression shifted, taking on a more serious tone. “We are—but often, our bodies are not. Our heart flames are eternal. Your kinsman, Benedict? He carries a heart flame. Kill him, and he’ll return. But the lands of the Dufirosm aren’t just Dufiro. Thousands of other races call our realms home—humanoids, elves, dwarves, Adask, orcs, merfolk. Many hope to join our ranks as Rafe, Olive, Runner, and Elmer have. They die. Their death rituals change to reflect our ways: rotation by the Hierarchy of Earth. The Hierarchy of Death manages it all—the ceremonies, wakes, revels. What’s left goes to the earth.”

His gaze settled on Rafe. “They didn’t tell you that, did they? You only saw the power, not the obligations. But reputation is everything, and that means honoring those obligations.”

The table fell quiet again as the gravity of his words settled over them. Then Rafe broke the silence with a grin. “So, Earth’s the farmer, the cook, and the cleanup crew?”

Bently chuckled, raising his mug. “Among other things. Earth has always been the foundation, both literally and figuratively.”

The group laughed, the earlier tension giving way to camaraderie. Rafe leaned back in his chair. “I’ll drink to that. Though maybe I’ll pass on the wet refuse rotation next time.”

Bently joined in the laughter but leaned closer to Rafe, his expression calm yet pointed. Quietly, he said, “I suggest you don’t.”

A subtle wave of energy rolled over Rafe, a reminder that the fey and effete Bently, with his eleven elemental races and aspirations for Life, Vision, and Wisher Masoja, was not just a friend—but a force to be reckoned with. Rafe shivered, nodding his silent acknowledgment.