The Dinner Table of Legend

Even now, in dusty cellars housewives meet to dream of owning the Dinner Table of Legend. They meet in those chilly, shadow-infested rooms to scheme about where it went, to dream of what they'd make with it and, of course, to drink their husband's wine. Logically, because they have to eat the food made by their drunken wives, the husbands dream of it too and then wonder where all their wine went.
It was shaped commonly. It was of common form. It was, however, uncommonly made. The Dinner Table of Legend was made by Magna Terifollan in the year the three-point saw was invented. Terifollan was the Terra Magna and as such, could train the soil, even trick it sometimes, into creating the most unlikely plants. Magna Terifollan worked very closely with the carpenters, the woodsmiths and the carvers but could not be said to have gotten along with those people. Terifollan was not a kind sort. He declared he was tired of eating whatever his cook felt like slapping onto his plate, declared it only ever tasted of tainted sawdust, and then declared he would find a way to fix matters, even if it killed him before the food did.
Some would argue it would have been easier to simply get a new cook. They would be right. However, where mothers are involved, simple no longer has a place.
Magna Terifollan told his mom he was working these long days because he was making her a special gift. She was delighted by this and always made sure to leave his supper keeping warm (and drying out further) in the oven. Every morning she pinched his twenty-four-year-old cheek, gave him his sack lunch of stale buns and mistaken cheese, and told him not to forget to find a wife that day. Terifollan thanked her and, as soon as he passed the town drunk, spectacularly gifted his entire lunch away. People looking on from other points on the street thought him such a good person. The town drunk seriously considered giving up drinking if it got him this lunch every day. Of course, then he'd walk past the tavern to throw it away, smell the stench of sour ale and, well, it all happened again the next day.
This table Mage Terifollan created had the sparkling power of the Great Light infused into its grain. Every joint, every brace was connected with Light. It glowed. At least for the first little while. Terifollan was afraid his mother would refuse it if she knew it was Light-created. Thankfully, the Light dimmed, or seeped into the wood and Magna Terifollan carted it home late that night.
After a bit of a bump and a squeeze, he got it placed in the kitchen. His mother was already in bed and his supper was a brick of meatloaf swimming in more oil than gravy on a plank of bread. With giddy greed he opened the oven and brought his dinner, almost reverently and trying not to cackle, to the Dinner Table. He picked up his fork and history followed that first bite.
This Dinner Table grew in fame. After the Magna got in an argument with his Mom and he had told her, exactly and heartlessly, what sort of Table he'd made and why, she was enraged. She threw both Terifollan and his magnificent table out into the street. Holding his head high at the jibes the Town Drunk threw at him Terifollan hoisted the table onto his back and trudged to the Mayor's house for that night.
Then on he went to the next village and the next mayor.
Terifollan managed to make himself welcome with the Mayors, promising the best feast that poor mayor had ever eaten. Each mayor found themselves having to agree and were always baffled as to why their cooks could not replicate the meals on their own tables.
Terifollan worked his way across the land, creating fame for him and his table, all the way to the King and Queen. The King and Queen were struggling to find a suitable Royal Cook and were having trouble since none of their constituents, around the castle anyway, had any idea what a spatula was for. Terifollan came just in time for the Annual Harvest Feast.
This, of course, brought even more fame to him and his Dinner Table. The King begged him to stay in the castle and become the Royal Cook. Terifollan agreed on one condition : That the King always ate at the, now rather scratched, Dinner Table.
Time passed, as it does. The King held very successful, though very small, dinner parties on his new table and brought a new age of peace to the land. Of course, no peace ever lasts long, as we all know. A cringey trade partner from the north heard about the success of the King's table and staged a glorious battle so that they could sneak in behind and steal the Dinner Table. Many soldiers died. Unfortunately, so did the Table.
It was never seen again. It was never heard about. It was never eaten off. Theories abound over what actually happened after the Dinner Table was stolen. Perhaps bandits attacked and it was smashed. Perhaps the house it was brought to burnt down. Perhaps it was tipped into the great river when the donkey pulling the cart took fright and it eventually disappeared into the sea. Whatever the reason for it, the Dinner Table was no more.