Chapter 65: Just Another Day in Sigil Lake, Pt. 3

  Two more newcomers greeted and sent on their way, Theo and Wen packed up the wagonful of caskets, piping, barrels, pots, pestles and whatever else a brewery could ever need. The new trader, Penny Silver, offered to help, but Wen revealed an effect of one of her skills that vanished most of what the wagon held.

  Penny looked to be a middle-aged woman with cropped blonde hair and dark eyes. She seemed to be a social lady, more so than Alvin, at least. She spoke with pointed respect, a happy lull constantly audible in her voice and a smile that could sell rocks to a miner stuck on her face.

  During their unloading of the wagon, Alvin came to greet his partner in trade on Sigil Lake’s behalf and somehow didn’t insult the woman or anyone else in the vicinity while doing so, showing deference to someone with his own profession and the skills to match him. The true reason for his arrival became apparent soon enough, however, as he claimed he had been promised a look at Sigil Lake’s trading goods. With both traders in the same place, it was as good a time as any to show them and hear their thoughts on the matter. Alvin had even tasted the abbles for breakfast and shared his thoughts about them earlier in the day without knowing he’d been tasting the future wealth of Sigil Lake—or part of it, at least.

  “These are delicious,” said Penny as if she were making a sale. “A step up from even Ercheat fruit.”

  Alvin frowned, likely regretting saying the same thing earlier in the day. “But harder to come by. Where’s the orchard? A place like this won’t have enough to sustain itself, much less a sustainable trading route.”

  “Prices will grow along with demand, Mr Alvin.”

  “If there’s never enough product to taste, Miss Silver, there will never be a demand.”

  Both nodded to each other’s wisdom in a respectable manner, agreeing with each other despite the clashing intents.

  “These are dungeon harvests from right outside the town. They’re scarce enough for now with just two delvers, but Sigil Lake’s first expansion will be aimed towards the dungeon. As a Dungeon-specialised town, we’re expecting plenty of yield in the future, which will allow us to expand trade. But these are still raw resources; the value of each abble can increase several-fold if turned into, say, a Level Three brewer’s cider, for instance.”

  Wen explained the plan with a winning smile and nudged their attention over to a vat before she vanished it. Jenny returned the smile right away, a certain sign of their plan having at least some merit. Alvin’s eyes widened as he took the plan in.

  “Do-do you have a sample of the true end-product?” he drooled.

  “Not yet. I have a batch of abbles ready for juicing the moment I—we,” she corrected, “—get the brewery installed.” She gestured to herself and Theo. “I’ll have a sample to taste in a few days which will be rather weak and low-quality but taste more or less the same as the expected result. Too bad rumours talk of Ercheat soldiers heading this way.”

  “Soldiers?” the female trader asked.

  “Yeah, don’t know what they really want yet,” Theo said.

  “When are they arriving?”

  “In two days, Lady estimated. She’s the one who told us.”

  “And Wen, how long until you can have a sample ready?”

  Wen frowned. “Are you thinking what it sounds like you’re thinking?”

  “Depends what it sounds like,” Penny responded with a sly smile.

  “It sounds like you want to give them my cider.”

  Penny’s lips formed a circle and her eyes widened, aghast. “Heavens no! Sell it to them! Provided they don’t tear the town apart—and why would they—they haven’t had a half-decent swig in a week! Sell them everything we’ve got, and at a premium! Trust me, they’re willing to pay.”

  “That’s…a frickin’ excellent idea! How come I didn’t think of that? Oh, one batch isn’t enough! Theo! Get Grace to bring me all the abbles! She and Durian’s goin’ to have to run the dungeon tomorrow as well.”

  Theo grimaced. “I don’t think she’s susceptible to me right now. You might have better luck asking her yourself. Also, don’t you think they’re coming here to tear the place down rather than buy our drink?”

  “The fuck did you do to Grace? Fine, I’ll ask her. You take Durian, then. And we don’t know for certain what they want,” Wen answered.

  Despite Penny looking like she had questions, like ‘why would a bunch of soldiers come to tear the town apart’ she didn’t ask. Alvin was as silent as she, though with a gaping mouth faced her way. It seemed the plan both impressed him and grieved him; why didn’t he think of it?

  “I’ll talk to her later, just trust that she won’t listen to me right now,” Theo avoided explaining.

  Somehow, Wen accepted that without further questioning, a relief for sure as Theo didn’t know how to broach the subject safely. Being on Wen’s naughty list wasn’t his wish, but he couldn’t hide the slight stirring of the status quo for long.

  “Alright. Thanks for the idea, Penny! I’ll dump this stuff in the brewery and find Grace. Meet me there in an hour?”

  Theo agreed, and they all separated from each other. Like Wen, Theo headed back inside the Barge, but whilst Wen headed through the tavern and into the crafter’s hall, Theo stopped short and headed into the kitchen to check on the equally recent arrival. As he suspected, he found Chef there, stocking the pantry with spices and herbs, as well as Pheobe’s foraged goods.

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  Chef’s body was lean, with long brown hair tied in a tail behind them. A bottle of oil tipped over and rolled along the shelf. A marathon of expletives burst from Chef’s mouth, the horrible language echoing from the pantry walls and back into the kitchen proper. The expletives ranged from simple swears to specific body parts, male and female both, doing very specific things with either each other, Chef, or a theoretical passer-by that would’ve been entirely innocent in this entire ordeal. Having met Chef a little while ago, Theo had already learned to censor the words.

  “Leaves and foliage, oh my, tall mountain! Put his chicken into her hen and sing. Why don’t you tickle my garden sore with that massive cloud and make me beg for more? Dung and excrement, natural beauty, split his grass apart and fry it river creek.”

  “Ahem,” Theo stopped Chef from going any further, having spent his mental energy and run out of natural phenomena to substitute words with.

  “Ow, fuck!” said Chef, head thumping into a shelf.

  Oops, let one slip past.

  “Oh, Theo. Just making sure everything has its place. What can I help you with?”

  Chef’s voice turned from a whirling tornado in a shitstorm to a calm lake on a sunny day, a shift as surprising as it was sudden.

  “Hey, Chef. Those abbles we promised might be delayed somewhat. Hope that’s okay?”

  Chef looked around the room as if searching for something. “No problem. Other than some colour for a salad or maybe a tasty dressing, I didn’t have a plan for them. Maybe when the farm’s wheeto is harvested, I can do some baking with it.”

  “Sounds great, actually! There’s also a bit of an event coming up…”

  “Oh?”

  “The Queen has sent a regiment this way. We hope it’s just to see the effigy, so Wen’s going to do her best to get a batch of cider ready for their arrival.”

  “Hope?” Chef asked.

  “I won’t lie, there’s a chance they won’t be friendly. Is that a problem?”

  “There are always problems with Fresh Starts, Theo. We’ll manage.”

  Theo smiled. “Thanks for understanding. Oh, and I got something else from the dungeon the first time I was there. It’s a few bottles of abble essence. Is that something you can use?”

  “Abble essence? I could use it for baking without the abbles, I suppose. Maybe even make a sauce. Speaking of, will your brewer also require all your violetberries? I’d like to taste them and see if they’re as delicious as people say! I make a wonderful gravy, you know.”

  Chef winked.

  “I don’t know. I’ll sneak you some, just in case,” Theo grinned. “So, I’ll fetch two vials of essence and some berries for you. I think Phoebe is holding onto them; she can make them last longer.”

  “When the opportunity arises, I’d like to submit a formal request for a redo of the kitchen. This is…adequate, but—”

  “We’re already on it, just a bit short on stone and metal at the moment. And I’m looking into getting a cold box made.”

  That last sentence perked Chef up. “Oh?”

  “We have a small collection of, uh, magically inclined people. Me, included, actually.”

  “Now, there’s a surprise. Let me know if you want a decent enchantment glyph, then; I’ve spent half my life staring at them, after all.”

  Now it was Theo’s turn to perk up. “I’ll take you up on that offer! Just have to learn to enchant first. I don’t suppose you…” he asked, lingering playfully on the last vowel.

  Chef scoffed. “Not at all. I make a magical chili stew, though.”

  Theo laughed and nodded his approval before he headed out of the kitchen to retrieve the promised goods. The moment he walked out the door, Chef sang explosive lyrics once more, the reason behind it not coming through.

  He returned a half-hour later with a wooden bowl filled with sour berries and two small wooden vials of liquid, its colour still a mystery. Chef popped a berry, scrunching up in an instant.

  “Oh! Excellent texture and such a great meat-to-juice ratio! Theo, you must be an expert!”

  “Oh, no! That’s my first ever batch. That survived, anyway. The first one was, uh…deleted in the Ranking, I guess.”

  “You know, I usually keep my own little garden for my special ingredients…how’d you like to take care of that for me? I sense that you have a gift for nurturing; the best-tasting ingredients are the ones that were cared for the best, after all.”

  Chef took out a few pouches of seeds and waved them in front of Theo. His eyes widened, and he accepted the bags.

  Item: Pouch of Scorcher Chilli Seeds (x25)

  Item: Pouch of Princess Chilli Seeds (x25)

  Item: Pouch of Svartpepper Seeds (x10)

  Item: Pouch of Mermaid’s Sweat Seeds (x3)

  “What’s…Mermaid’s Sweat?”

  “Interesting that you already know the contents of those bags,” Chef said with a smirk.

  Then, more to show off than anything else, he made the bags disappear in an instant. It was his first time making use of his planting skill’s new effect, and when he saw Chef’s eyes widen in surprise, a deep sense of pride filled him with warmth.

  “I have a small repertoire of skills that helps with seeds in specific,” he grinned.

  Chef’s smile grew wider. “Most chefs keep this a secret, but I’ll tell you. Since we’re not competing, but working together, you know. Chefs are very competitive, so being experimental with every ingredient you can get your hands on is perhaps more important than cooking itself. I don’t think many know this, but Mermaid’s Sweat is a tree with crystalline, blue bark. Debark the tree and place the bark in water for a week; you’re left with a thick, blue slurry as the bark mixes with the water. If you dry that slurry, you’ve got the real Mermaid’s Sweat: the best-tasting salt you’ve ever seen or heard of.”

  “A salt tree?”

  “A salt tree. Oh, don’t plant more than a single seed in one plot. The seed will grow to take every inch of space it can, and it’ll fight for it if it must.”

  “Thanks! I’ll make sure to tend these to the best of my ability!” Theo beamed.

  “Excellent! Oh, and the rest just requires sun. The more, the better. Other than that, make sure their soil never dries.”

  “Got it!”

  Theo rushed out of the kitchen once more, having a few minutes of spare time left before having to meet Wen in the brewery to help her set it up. His mana was already back to full as well, so he should be a good student and spend it in a loop cast again. He eyed the previous message in his logs with a smile.

  Congratulations! You have earned the Level One skill Dark Affinity.

  Dark Affinity (Level One): Not-shimmer. All stats +5.

  A hundred repeats of ‘Create’ ‘Dark’ wasn’t enough to bring him to Level Two. He’d cast it in increments of ten until he reached it, just for his own experimental pleasure.

  The roiling darkness didn’t become so all-encompassing and wide this time around, which was a relief. He cast the 10x loop three times, then conserved his mana for tending his new seeds, of which he saved ten of each chilli type and a single Mermaid’s Sweat seed. Not getting the Level Two dark affinity skill in 130 casts was a letdown, but who else could cast 130 spells in so little time? He could even do so several times a day.

  Filling four plots with dirt and watering them afterwards left him with little mana to spare, most of it going to the sigils themselves rather than the repeats of spell effects. He realised how long he’d been at it the moment he was done and rushed to wash his hands and arms in the lake before heading back into the Sigilist’s Barge.

  He hoped Wen wasn’t pissed.