The center of high fashion in Sapience is far
From Ashtan's bustling markets
Or old Shallam's Zanzibar.

Even in the tundra of Kamleikan and the North,
No snowy fur or penguin pelt
Can match this couture's worth.

Hide is all the rage in the upper echelon
Of the quirky caveman culture
In the Valley of the Dun.

Form follows function in their elegant attire;
Perfect for a rat-hunt
Or to muck across the mire.

"Waste not, want not" seems to be the tribal adage.
Thigh-bone wielding gents
Club all the rats that they can manage.

Clothing's but a scratch upon the surface of their art.
A gourmet meal awaits you
In the secret canyon�s heart.

Crocodile custard with a pleasant aperitif:
A grey-green mound of reptile
With a taste beyond belief.

Possum stew with wild herbs is a victual to savour,
Chief Talus knows his spices
And the depths of subtle flavour.

Served in land-crab half-shell: a compote of jungle fruits
From the overflowing storehouse
Of these fashionable brutes.

Dress smartly if you visit; don't forget your appetite.
The cavemen may not say much
But they'll party through the night.

The atmosphere is stunning, and the food is quite sublime.
Why else would Prince Tolonar
Have stayed here all this time?


Penned by my hand on the 1st of Ero, in the year 389 AF.