Molag Manicotti

A place that even fewer of us end up willingly is Molag, one-time capital of the Horned Society and full-time capital to all sorts of humanoids who aren’t that awesome. The citizens are poor under the best of circumstances—why try when one’s family might be sacrificed to Nerull at the Blood-Moon Ritual?—and the recent invasion by Iuz and his minions has not led to an increase in the standard of living. Let me rephrase that: the standard of living for a hobgoblin guard or an orc slaver may have increased. But for the humans who are still calling Molag home, not so much. Throw in the antics of Durgaloth, now a potential ruler of the 6th layer of Hell, and yikes, that is a lot of different kinds of evil circulating.

Still, cambions, succubi, 8th-level clerics, and hobgoblin patriarchs have to eat somewhere, and it isn’t always going to be envicerated elves or a daintily quartered dwarf. Thus, the famous, at least regionally, Molag Manicotti. Using rothe cheese imported from the Underdark, it mixes spices from Veluna and the Tiger Nomads with wheat ground by human femur bones right here in Molag. Chefs take the ground wheat, add water with a thickening agent rumored to be blood to make the pasta. Then only the best slave labor hand fills the pasta with the cheese and spice mixture. Cook for 3-5 turns and eat heartily.

Not really my thing, but hey, I don’t like eating blood, not even my own.

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