The Sacred Squid

Midway between the Lift and the Lakeside Ramp on Level 3, a broad two-story modern building invites you to dine in opulence in stark contrast to the surrounding plain neighborhood of houses and modest shops. A softly glowing, gently moving, twenty foot long squid stretches above the glass double doors and extends over the large windows to either side. The glass doors lead to an area with a large open hearth, like a grand stone fireplace without walls, providing a backdrop for the low eternal flame within.

The red-stained wooden host stand to the left of the hearth serves as nerve center for Damla Balik, one of the owners of The Sacred Squid, her curious mix of bronze skin, sea-green eyes, and blue-tinged blonde hair advertising her unlikely parentage. Damla runs the service team with calm presence and effortless efficiency, never letting a customer leave with anything but praise for their dining experience. She offers several seating options, from the open teak balcony overhanging the level below in good weather, to the mezzanine window tables overlooking the harbor, to a long fireside table, to a cozy booth in a secluded corner. She even has a small room available for private parties with enough advanced warning.

For those who need to wait for a table, Damla indicates the bar area to the right of the hearth. Polished woods from all over the world create an intricate striped pattern on the curved face of the bar, though a few solid slabs of local oak form the bar's top, the grain matched and joined masterfully between the slabs. Several small tables provide places for drinks and appetizers around the room, and the front wall boasts a shallower live-edge bar also made from local oak that runs the entire width of the room under the street-facing windows. A purple-skinned Tiefling named Azeron runs the bar, and they really play up the otherworldy aspect of their nature. They especially enjoy pouring drinks with their tail and talking in Infernal or Orcish, and their deep knowledge of mixology surpasses most in Fellport.

The chef, a Hominae Vitae (Halfling) woman named Fianna Vita, plain-looking with a long walnut-brown braid, maintains an adventurous menu between the local seafood and game, the garden she maintains on the roof, and various exotic ingredients that flow into the harbor below. She prefers to hunt when she can, though the restaurant's success keeps her in the kitchen and talking with patrons who swiftly become devoted fans nearly all the time now.

The Sacred Squid has earned its spectacular reputation over the past six years, and most people below Council Row have either eaten here or have it on their bucket list. Expect to pay for the experience of eating at The Sacred Squid, but also expect feelings of deep satisfaction and utter contentment. Paying a deposit ahead of time to reserve a table will guarantee a seat, especially on weekends. Many patrons make a meal out of appetizers at the bar, though Azeron will tease them mercilessly about it.

Part of T.W.Wombat's #City23 project. See the Fellport Index for all entries.

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