Sometimes, you just want to accept that something tastes good without knowing how it was made.
A list of 30 more wines, none of which are vinted by humans, elves, or dwarves.
"One for you," He mumbled, pouring some rum onto his boots, "And a few gulps for me, and we’re off."
He took a large gulp from the bottle, put his boots on, and was out the door in a flash.
Food of the gods.
No nose, hardly any body, a terrible wine, really.
A potent drink gauranteed to turn good folk into depraved and desolate madmen.
Lady Carse of Tekne
I tell you, I get this itch on my lip when I think about Sgriob and the waters of the casks…
Captain Wandren, Ship’s logs
It has been said that within the mountains (or was it the darklands?) there dwells a fluffy creature of immense cuteness. This creature is so adorable that all who encounter it are filled with joy so great their mortal forms cannot contain it. And they explode. Several magic institutions are desperate to study the creature or better yet capture one to prove the theory of an elemental plane of "D'Awwww".