by Charles Dean
Cloth Armor offers 3 damage reduction over the surface it covers and also reduces damage from heat or cold based attacks by 5%.
Bronze sword. Deals 8 damage.
That’s . . . Lee’s mouth watered a little. He wasn’t that impressed with the cloth armor, but the leather armor and the weapon had his eyes darting back and forth between prompts. Compared to the gear he had starting out, which offered no protection and did no damage, this was great. Five points of damage reduction was a lot, especially against low-damage enemies like dagger wielders. The bronze sword was also a massive improvement over the previous noob starting sword. It literally had double the damage of his other two starting weapons.
This really could keep me alive. Lee started thinking about how to put together a new fighting strategy to compensate for the fact that he didn’t actually have any leather armor for his chest. He got lost in thought about how to use the loot for a minute until his stomach growled again and reminded him that he was still on a mission.
Oh, right. Food. Lee sighed and headed downstairs toward the kitchen. He had tried a practice run or two with fried chicken last night, but he still wasn’t a hundred percent confident that he could pull it off. The only thing that he knew for a fact that he could manage with ease was the bacon. After all, bacon was something that everyone learned how to cook before they hit ten in his household. His dad had been the type of guy to make little bacon castles with pancake guards for his breakfast as a kid. Naturally, he had picked up quite a few tricks and techniques from his father, the Bacon King of Breakfast Bacon Castle Land—a name his old man had used for himself way too many times to not begin eliciting groans after a while.
“Good morning!” Ramon greeted him as he came up to the bar. “So, what’s the breakfast you’ll be having this morning? I believe you wanted pig belly?”
“Actually, do you mind if I cook my own?” Lee asked, pinning his hopes on the head of the kitchen not being too stingy with his workspace.
“Hmm . . .” Ramon paused and looked around the bar.
For a group of adventurers who needed daylight to hunt, the number that got up early wasn’t nearly what Lee would have expected. Even Miller had yet to come down, so the tavern was mostly empty, and the only other two people to have descended from the rooms were already eating what appeared to be biscuits. Ramon shrugged after a minute and motioned for Lee to come back behind the counter toward the kitchen while giving him a timeframe. “Well, I guess it can’t hurt, but don’t take too long. You've got about an hour or so before the rest of the crowd comes down and starts demanding food.”
“Thanks.” Lee smiled while checking off the box on his mental list of steps toward world domination, or at least he hoped it was headed in that direction. “Can I use whatever ingredients I find back there, so long as I pay?”
“I told you, after the assassination attempt last night, you get one free breakfast. Just make yourself at home with the kitchen, but try to hurry up.” With that, Ramon turned and went back to the front.
“He may have said you can eat what you want, but if you touch my beef ribs without paying, I’m going to gut you and hang you like that pig,” a man, around six foot five with a figure as round as the biscuits the customers were eating earlier, said as he exited the shadows like a caped superhero trying to talk to a police chief.
How the heck . . .? Lee’s brain couldn’t comprehend how he didn’t notice this massive chef when he first entered the kitchen. “That’s . . . That’s fine, but do you mind if I take some of the chicken?”
“Is that all you’re going to be needing?” the chef asked suspiciously. “If it’s just chicken, you should let me cook it for you, whelp. I’ve been cooking chicken since long before you were a twinkle in your daddy’s eye.”
“I’ll also need a pot, a frying pan, some oil, some . . .” Lee listed out everything he could remember from the video. He was expecting the man to interrupt him at some point and tell him ‘Kid, if you’re trying to fry chicken I know how to do that too,’ but it never happened. Instead, the man just watched intently as Lee prepped the chicken, heated up the oil, and began frying the pound of bacon. He made sure to catch the bacon fat for later. If he couldn’t get his hands on more, this was probably going to be the best chance he had of tasting anything like it.
In theory, it should only have taken him between fifteen to twenty minutes to fry up some chicken wings. Half an hour later, he was still double and triple checking everything. When he was finally satisfied with the preparations, he dropped it all into the oil.
You have learned the proficiency skill ‘Cooking.’ This skill is currently at Initiate Level 1. This skill improves one’s ability to manage time and ingredients in the kitchen.
You have been awarded 2 Intelligence for discovering a new skill without the assistance of class trainers or a manual. Current Intelligence: 25.
There we go! Lee was rather satisfied with the unexpected boon. Now, to test out my creation . . . He blew on one of the fried chicken wings a few times to cool it off before sinking his teeth into it. Well, this isn’t exactly Carolina Fried Chicken, but it is definitely good. Lee let out a sigh that was a mixture of relief over his creation not failing and joy at how good it felt to savor. He then tried the bacon and found that the cast iron skillet had actually left it with a lot more flavor than he was used from his pan back home. Maybe I should invest in one of these when I get back, Lee thought, scratching his chin momentarily as he took another bite of bacon.
“Hey, kid,” the chef who had just been silently watching him the whole time called over. “Are you really going to eat all of that?”
Lee looked at the seven pounds of fried chicken and the stack of crispy bacon that was two pieces short of a pound itself and then up at the bear-like chef whose mouth was clearly salivating. “Well, I suppose I could spare a piece of chicken . . .” Lee shrugged and tossed the man a drumstick before the chef could pretend like that wasn’t the intent of his question.
Alright, let’s see if this evil scheme works. Lee leveled his gaze on the man as he ripped the crispy flesh off of the drumstick with his teeth. The man chewed twice then stopped.
Huh? Why aren’t you chewing more?! Chew, dangit! Tell me it tastes good! Lee felt a bit of anxiety begin to build. If this experiment failed, he’d have wasted half the previous night and a good portion of the time he had spent back in his own world.
After a few more seconds of just holding the food in his mouth, the chef hesitantly began chewing again. Lee began to relax a bit, but the anxiety hadn’t gone away. Then, a moment later, the chef devoured the entire drumstick so quickly that Lee wasn’t even sure he had seen it right.
“Good. GOOD GOOD GOOD!” the bear of a man shouted as he started licking the grease off of his fingers. “Soooo GOOD!”
“There is no need to be modest,” Lee said happily. He felt like having some fun at the man’s expense. “You’ve been cooking much longer than I have, right? This is nothing to you! Don’t lie to spare my feelings.”
“Me? Lie? Nonsense!” the chef exclaimed. “Just let me get another piece of that chicken!”
So fried food really is that addicting, eh? Lee did his best not to chuckle out loud and anger the man, mainly because the big man’s arms alone seemed more than capable of crushing him with one swipe. “Please, I appreciate you letting me use your kitchen, but I really wouldn’t want you to stoop so low as to eat a novice chef’s food.”
“Kid, this ain’t no false modesty. Hand over some of that there chicken,” the chef insisted, and his hungry look sent a chill up Lee’s spine.
“Alright, alright,” Lee conceded. He picked another piece of fried chicken out of the bucket he had been using so that he could carry them back to the main room and said, “But just one thing first.”
“Name it.”
“Can you consider worshiping the god, Augustus, who taught me this recipe? I’m not forcing you to or anything, just let me know you’ll at least consid
er it.” Lee waved the food back and forth like an owner taunting his dog with a treat.
“Sounds fair.” The man nodded his agreement as he caught the two pieces of fried chicken Lee tossed his way. “You’ll have to show me how to cook this one more time in the future,” he insisted after he had secured his food.
Lee just laughed as he turned and head back to the bar. “Let’s see if I’m alive tomorrow or not,” he called behind him.
“You better be. You mind if I try some of the pig?” the chef asked just as Lee was about to leave the room.
The coup de grâce? Of course! Lee laughed internally but slowly and solemnly said, “Fine, one piece. But without more prayers to Augustus, this may be the last batch I ever have.” With that, Lee handed over a single stick of bacon.
“Whelp, you’re really starting to . . .” The man paused and took a bite of the food, and his face lit up instantly. “How many more prayers do you need for more of this?”
Win! Lee masked his sly grin and walked back to the bar.
“Sorry about that,” Ramon said, pouring Lee a beer and placing it on the counter in front of the same seat he had used the night before. “Should have warned you about David. He’s a great chef, but he’s kind of particular about his workspace.”
Lee smiled. “Oh, he was no bother at all.”
“That’s great to hear. I’m impressed that he let you walk away with so much food. He must really like you.”
Is that how he treats people he likes? Lee remembered the rather brash start of their interactions. “Well, we got along in the end at least.”
“I know I said breakfast was free and that you could make as much as you like, and I know your friend is big, but don’t you think you overcooked a bit for just the two of you? Or are you planning on taking it with you on your quest?”
My quest . . . Lee’s jubilee was instantly shot as he remembered that he had somehow accepted a ridiculously hard quest to go hunt down the thugs who had been kidnapping the villagers. “I suppose I do have plenty. It’s my fault, though. Whenever I’m doing something I love, I can often get overzealous.” Lee tried to look bashful as if this were all an accident while he offered Ramon a piece of bacon. “Perhaps you’d like to try some of it?”
“I must admit that I am rather curious.” Ramon showed no shame as he snatched the piece of bacon and snapped right into it.
“I hope my cooking was decent. Is it any good?” Lee asked while Ramon chewed.
“Any good? This is phenomenal! Is this what you were asking for last night? I give it a ten out of ten in taste and texture, with an eight out of ten in cleanliness while eating. This is better than even Sam’s Soupy Stew top course!” Ramon laid on the praises heavy. “May I have another?”
Lee shook his head at the request and instead offered him a piece of chicken. “How about you try this instead,” he offered, making sure to pick out the fattest drumstick he could find in the bucket. Since Miller was already converted, there wasn’t a point in wasting the best and juiciest parts on him.
Ramon’s eyes shot open as soon as he took a bite, and he made several ‘mmm’ sounds between chomps. “How did you learn how to cook like this?”
BlueTube, Killing Them Heavily? Lee thought back to the station he had used to find videos on how to fry everything from chicken to ice cream. “It’s one of the techniques taught at the church of Augustus. If you think this is good now, wait till you try it after a few drinks,” he added. “There is even a way to cook pork cutlets with this technique that is to die for while drinking.”
“What’s to die for?” Miller said as he came down the stairs. The Book of Augustus was in one hand, and he was apparently reading as he walked up to the bar.
“This food your friend has made, you’re going to love it.” Ramon pushed the bucket over toward Miller, offering up Lee’s food without even asking first. Then again, the chicken was technically Ramon’s, and Lee had just been the one to cook it.
Miller took a drumstick, head still buried in the book, causing Lee to, out of pure irritation at the disrespect to a hardcover book, snatch the book out of Miller’s hand before he could take a bite and get any greasy flakes of fried chicken skin on the pages. “Hey! Show some respect for books!” Lee demanded. He didn’t mind when people read books to the point the spine broke, left tiny folds at the top of the pages, or even fell asleep on a book and contorted the makeshift pillow so that, any time you opened it, there would always be that page he slept on as the natural split, but he couldn’t stand people eating and drinking around them. Sure, e-books were so common these days that it was rarely a problem, but he had been, for lack of a better word, a proper ‘nerd’ since he was five years old, and that meant he had hordes of hard and soft back books that he had already paid for and didn’t want to part with until the day he died.
“Sorry, it’s just this book is so amazing. Your god, or, well, our god now, has so much to say on everything. Did you know there are over fifty ways to modify a single spear? Over fifty! Every time I thought I was done reading about modifying spears, I’d turn the page and like it was magic! A new page with new techniques would show up. I didn’t think it was possible for there to be so much—” Miller took a bite of the chicken mid-sentence. “Woah. This is great! Ramon, your cook has really upped his game. I could eat this all day, every day.”
“It’s not my cook. It’s him.” Ramon responded, pointing to Lee. “He says it’s a technique of his religion, so I imagine that might be an option if you’re actually joining his church.”
“Of course I’m joining! It’s the best! I had my doubts when he first told me about it, but after borrowing his bible, I couldn’t be more convinced. There is a god, and Augustus is his name,” Miller stated proudly with a hand over his heart. “No one else but a god could make such a magical artifact.”
I didn’t even notice it was magical until it was pointed out to me. I had a book that could tell me anything I wanted to know about crafting, and this moron figured it out before me? Lee couldn’t cover up the shame he felt at being outdone by the self-proclaimed champion of justice. “Of course. And I’m more than happy to hear you’re joining the fold.” Lee patted the Firbolg on the shoulder as Miller ripped into another piece of chicken. “Now, the two of us can go out and convert people together.”
“Convert? No, we must do his good work. He clearly gave us this tome of knowledge so that we can destroy evil and lay waste to the infidels who would besmirch the name of our religion with vile and evil acts!”
Lee cringed. “Easy with that ‘infidel’ word.” I don’t want to be blacklisted from public flights! he thought, even though he knew there would be nothing of that sort around here. Wait, since I get to shape this religion, why not start now? “You’re right that we should stop evil as a way of bringing about the word of our Lord Augustus, but that doesn’t mean you should ever hurt or oppress people for having different beliefs than you. If they don’t believe us, that’s their loss. Just follow the teachings and prove you’re better.”
Miller looked at Lee in confusion. “What teachings? You mean the modifications? The building patterns?”
“The uhh . . .” Lee fumbled around trying to think of an answer but just settled on dodging the question. “Just have some beer and enjoy your breakfast.”
“Huh?” Both Ramon and Lee looked at him dumbfounded, probably wondering why the Herald of a religion didn’t have these answers readily.
“Eat!” Lee pushed a piece of bacon in Miller’s face.
“Woah! This is even better than the first thing,” Miller said as he munched on it. “Is this also part of our religious diet?”
Lee nodded. “Yeah, something like that. If we want more, we have to pray—and convince others to pray.”
“Not sure any food is really worth worshipping some random god,” Ramon chuckled, even as he reached for another piece.
Lee pulled the stack of bacon away from Ramon and said, “You don’t have to eat it if
you don’t think it’s worth it.”
“Hey now, I just said I wasn’t sure. I need a few more samples to decide.” Ramon managed to grab another slice before heading into the kitchen, probably to ask his chef if he learned how to replicate what Lee had done.
The fried chicken wasn’t that hard to do, and Lee was positive that the chef would be able to duplicate it if he was worth his weight as a cook, but from what he had learned, it was doubtful that anyone would be able to replicate the bacon. After all, the bacon itself was otherworldly.
“So where did you get all this?” Miller asked between bites. “I remember looking through all the chapters of the book last night, and I didn’t see anything on food. It was all on spear modifications and stuff for how to make a weapon or make it better.”
“That’s because you don’t know where to look,” Lee answered, wiping his hands as thoroughly as he could on his pants before taking the book out and opening it up. If you’re a magical artifact, you’ll show me what I’m most interested in seeing, right? Lee hoped as he continuously wished ‘show me the fried chicken’ in his heart.
The pages in the book glowed a whitish blue color for a moment, and after the glow faded, the page that Lee was looking at contained a detailed set of instructions for how to make fried chicken. He turned to the next page to see another recipe, and every page he tried after that showed more and more recipes for fried chicken. Along with information on flavor for each different recipe, there was also five categories for taste, ingredients required, prep time needed and difficulty, and each was rated with a number between one and one hundred.
Lee’s eyes were immediately drawn to the difficulty description, which varied from recipe to recipe and was displayed in two factors. The first number was the amount of Intelligence required, and the second was the level of cooking skill required. At the bottom of each recipe, there was a mostly-blurred-out section labeled as the Assembly Spell. Despite the fact that the book was right in front of him, he couldn’t read the words to any of the actual spells. The only thing he could make out were the requirements listed at the top. The simplest fried chicken recipe he could find required either a cooking skill of Initiate Level 5 and 50 Intelligence or a cooking skill of Novice Level 5 and 25 Intelligence. So, Intelligence isn’t just for learning skills faster. It seems you can’t even learn or use certain skills without it.
