The Diary of a Chef

[knifey]

——

Iyar 27, 7789

More time alone. At least I'm actually sleeping.

The goblins were thronging again, and I could use the work. It was a quick job, but they were particularly smelly this time around. Afterwards, Ramez approached me about expanding the bar menu. He offered me some alchemical liquor - Aqua Vitae and Blood Wine. We'll see how it does, not too bad if I say so myself.

I opened the restaurant for a little while after. Nela stopped by, it was nice to see her. We pondered which Spoke the art of cooking is favored - I proposed the Wyld and her tenets to tend the hearth and flock. Though she mentioned that recipes and culinary knowledge might fall under the Magi's domain. A joint effort I think! Two Spokes working together to create something greater than the sum of their parts.

——

War. There's always more War. Closer and closer - the front marches onward to Bet Nappahi.

I joined another assault against an orc fort. A large tower - rope and grapple - flares and artillery. I took a slip trying to work that sling Calliope gave me, and some of those stink bombs she put together too. It was effective - but it's no knife or skewer. It makes for some awkward movements as my instincts are inclined to slice and stab.

While we prepared, Aurelio told me of a Royal Chef of sorts - an officer of the League of Purple. One of those ring runners from the last age, recipes lost to the ash now. He said it might be worth writing to him, though he might scowl at my own League membership. It's worth looking into though.

 ——

Theo dropped off a fresh batch of ingredients - some meat and herbs. I need to find Calliope to take a look at the oven. I've had to bother Bert for his kitchen in the meanwhile - don't want to risk starting a fire in the restaurant.

There's also something going on between Cort and Selwyn. He was acting a bit strange several days ago at the last assault against the orcs, and Selwyn was particularly- [A moment of thought as the pen lingers on the page.] irritable today. I overheard them say something about being abandoned. And the sign outside their home was all scratched through.

I found Cort later. He said Selwyn isn't used to consequences. That most of their partners friends die before realizing they're being used. He said not to worry about it though - but I worry about him.

——

I talked to Sister Jamei and made some donations for the charity auction. There was some hesitation around the variety of items to be auctioned off - mostly wizardly things. But I had a few cloaks, a helm and sword, and some valuable vials I was able to  donate. Enough variety now that they can host it soon - the first day of the coming week, sometime in the evening. I'm planning some exciting snacks and treats to cater for those in attendance.

Narwen must have just finished with her chores, she appeared as I was leaving the Priory to give Sister Jamei a tour of the restaurant. I know she hadn't seen it yet either - so I invited her along. They had nice things to say about the place, and I learned a bit about their pasts. Sister Jamei lived among the caravans too - traveling with her father. Some contemplation of memories, blessings and curses.

Is it better to know of your past, to long for something that's no more - or to have no recollection, and be free of the burden?

——

[knifey]

——

Iyar 28, 7789

[The penmanship is askew - written blindly in a dark room.]

Once upon a time, there were two mice -
they roamed the woods, happy to suffice.
The best of friends, as close as ever -
more than survival, if only together.

Then one day, the first mouse discovered -
a cabin unknown, alone, ungoverned.
Within it's walls, treasures and dreams -
food and cheeses, all manner of creams.

Enough for them, to weather the season -
to find a home, well within reason.
So she raced back, to tell her friend -
a place in which, their struggle can end.

Together again, they ventured out -
to find this cabin, without a doubt.
And as they gazed, upon their salvation -
the cat appeared, from it's predation.

"Take of the cheese, I care not -
my master treats me, without a thought.

But there is more I can offer -
if you let an old cat proffer.

Merely poison the man, in his sleep.
Then free I am, and this cabin you keep.

Yet alas, you may wonder -
why do I not, put him under?

I should if I could -
but a leash is a leash.

And a collar is a cage -
and a slave never would.

So you I ask - you mice I plead,
that you slip this poison - in his mead.

That when he lay, his head tonight -
he drinks without, a thought or fright."

And so the mice, began to discuss -
the merits, the faults, what is enough.
To trust a cat, who's nature is his -
to catch a mouse, the reason it is.

The time alas, the master's return -
the second mouse - without a concern.
She turns to move, to poison the man -
but it was long over, before it began.

With a swipe and a chuckle -
the cat made it clear.
All the thought in the world -
and still her worst fear.

Nothing now, but for the first to run.
To watch on, as her life is undone.
And the man, so satisfied to show -
leaves with cat, and trophy in tow.

Alone now - all she could do was weep.
Her friend gone, a fate she cannot think.
She turns to the mead - to take a drink.
This cabin now, is all she has to keep.

——

[knifey]

——

Hziran 1, 7789

I've never slept like that before - in such complete and utter darkness. No candles, no hearth - no flames, no smoke. Even out in the desert, there's the stars and the moon - but there's no windows in the Krak. That's what Sister Selsi prescribed, though. That and a vial of blessed water - just a drop on the forehead.

I know I promised I'd talk to Sister Selsi, and she seems genuine in her concern and desire to help. Calliope too - she promised she'd stand with me, and she did. I can trust them, I think. But she could smell it on me - the smoke. And if she could, maybe others can too.

I can't trust others.

——

Ait Tujum.

The discovery of some island, near the coast of Qadira, made news recently. A new job on the board - lower work. Then again, what's a discovery in a land so ancient - that all things are merely lost and then found again.

It was some manner of evil, a corruption - blasphemy in the name of the Wyld. And yet, only the Wyld's mercy was enough - to end their misery and return them to the soil.

For now, the corruption is kept at bay. But whatever the source, a job on the board is unlikely to see to its end.

——

[The penmanship is distressed.]

This wasn't a dream. I wasn't sleeping.

The smell of smoke - that retching taste. As if to take the dying drag, the one that finds its way deep in the stomach. The one you knew you shouldn't take.

Miasmic and choking - it filled the room. It took everything in me not to heave and vomit. Only with an anointment of the Sister's water did the nausea pass.

And even then - though the smoke had cleared. Blood in the walls. Pulsing veins.

I wasn't sleeping. This wasn't a dream.

——

[knifey]

——

Hziran 2, 7789

There's been a lot of commotion about the Well. Ashsails ferrying supplies, rumors making the rounds - the War presses on,  the Kusatma faces the Abulmahhu.

And the Kusatma stood victorious - the walls breached and our forces made way. After the battle, I heard some more news from the front - an ancient tree, significant. Burned to ash. I question the decision, to desecrate the Wyld in this manner.

I don't know what incited this war, only the brutality of the Clans. But if other decisions were made in this vein- [The pen hesitates, contemplates.] it's too late to question now.

——

[The penmanship is scribbled and messy, written in the dark.]

Great flames - a firestorm,
smoke and ash.
Darkness - all around.

A tree,
it weeps, it burns.
It bleeds and boils.

The fumes of death,
a last gasp for life.
Choking in the darkness.

——

[knifey]

——

Hziran 3, 7789

Nightmares. They're back - even in the darkness. You know why.

I'm out of the Sisters water. As long as I have the water- [The ink hesitates.] at least I won't have to be alone.

——

Another job on that island. This time some cave system filled with Melek. A lot of Melek - guarding something.

I went with Cort, Selwyn, Alice, Reyta and the Commodore. What an interesting man. Even with Selwyn and Alice's magic - it was a challenge. The caves were particularly treacherous, practically caving in on themselves. I had to dig my skewer out from under some rocks after one of those Melek knocked it out of my hands during the shaking.

Once we got out of the caves - an entire town of Melek. Hundreds of them, doing everything they could to keep us from finding some temple buried beneath the mountain. Something they really didn't want disturbed - the skull of some enormous dragon, bound and imprisoned by some ancient magic.

Probably for good reason.

——

[There's something hurried in the penmanship, something anxious.]

The auction is soon. I've got everything ready. I hope everyone enjoys the food - I'll need to restock soon.

I managed to distill a new spirit. It's particularly- [The pen lingers briefly.] vile bitter and potent. Not something I'd sip - but there's something about shooting it that has me pouring another. I'll call it moth herb.

I need a cigarette, but I know I shouldn't. I threw away the last of them anyways.

Another shot I suppose.

——

The auction was wonderful! Many of the items I donated went for quite a bit more than I imagined - but I guess that's why I'm no merchant. And who knew these magic bags went for so much!

There was a bit of drama too. Adamsk slapped Edmund over some whispers - I didn't hear what was said, even though it happened right in front of me. Adamsk was being his cheeky self, and I suppose Edmund didn't take too kindly to it - no surprise there. It certainly added a little flair flare to the evening.

The majority of the food was consumed, which is always nice - the rest can go to the refugees. People seemed to really like the steak skewers and my date nut loaf. I was hoping the fried fish would be more popular - but people around here really don't like fish I suppose.

And the moth herb! People seemed intrigued, despite the bitterness. Cort looked like he really enjoyed it - not surprised there either. He has good taste.

Calliope had brought up a mystery box of vials. The only thing I ended up bidding on. I didn't even care for the vials, although it was quite valuable once I took a look inside. About double what I paid for it! She did a great job though, leading the auction for a moment. I might have been a bit- [A short pause.] enthusiastic in my bidding.

I should get her something.

——

[A few droplets of water dry against the page, a subtle shimmer in the stains.]

Blessed water.

Enough for a few weeks at least.
Enough to quiet the nightmares.

I hope.

——

[knifey]

——

Hziran 5, 7789

Where do the days go? I suppose I'm finally catching up on some rest. An odd experience - dreamless sleep, waking to total darkness. Not knowing the time or day, another splash of water - rolling over to fall asleep again.

But I was able to get a little work in with Cort and Selwyn. Some trolls out by the Giant's Road. Nothing too interesting or significant, but pay is pay - and I need to make up for all this sleeping.

——

There was a crowd gathering in the Krak - Argent had made an appearance again. He had a new staff on him, shaped into a snake - its golden visage leering at any that would meet its gaze.

There was some debate and questions around his involvement in the late Legate Ahmet's murder. Again. I don't think anyone will get any answers.

And then he announced his return to the Well - soon. Maybe after the War, as a citizen of Kha'esh or otherwise - it sounds like he has something up his sleeve.

——

Lujayn wants to host a dinner at Casa Manta. An exciting one if I say so myself. I don't think I've ever come across her proposed guest in all my time in the Well. Should be interesting to finally meet her.

A luxurious adventure with a little taste of home. That's the brief - and I'm competing with some of the finest cuisines offered in Baz'eel. I'm up for the challenge, I just hope know I can exceed their expectations.

——

[knifey]

——

Hziran 6, 7789

Another late night. I may not be having nightmares, but I wonder if I'm actually sleeping. Everything is so dark - I woke up on the floor. Wrapped in my blanket, curled in the corner. Whatever it was - or is, there's no getting back to sleep now.

There's some bustling downstairs. Maybe some work to do, everyone's been going on about some Vaults lately.

Can't sleep anyways.

——

More fresh faces. They come, they go - and then again. More fresh faces.

A young man - just Awoken, not even three days. Garen is his name, a soldier of sorts - some militia or something. As far as he remembers at least, and as far as I can tell. I may have been a bit- [A moment of self-reflection.] abrasive. I'm reminded of myself - when I was first Awoken. A little bit of abrasion would have done me some good back then. To learn just how cruel this desert can be.

I hope he doesn't think I'm some bitch - all the time, at least. I did give him some new gear. Armor, a shield, some boots and a cloak. He wasn't particularly grateful. Kept going on about needing some plate - without realizing just how much protection those scales offered. But I think he discovered after our little adventure down into the Vaults. He was much more appreciative afterwards.

——

But perhaps more interesting - a not so fresh face. Certainly new around the Well, but an old friend of the ash.

A Wrothir - a wielder of pain, a bearer of spite and vengeance. There hasn't been many of the Eighth recently. Aside the 4th and their worship. A proper Speaker of the Wroth is welcome.

Varya, he told me to call him. A Makhyoon or not, I do not know. But I had gifts for him - gifts to the Wroth for answering my prayers. A particularly cruel flail and a cloak for those dedicated to the Eighth. Makhyoon or not, the Wroth casts his favor on the man.

He asked of my prayers, my vengeance. It's been some time since I thought about it. About Grenth, the murderer, the Darkhelm. He warned me of it. It's power - but I only wish to see what it saw. To know what it knows. Through its eyes - the face of the conspirators.

And so he made an offer. To aid in my desire for vengeance. But he cautioned me, for it comes at a cost. I must be willing to sacrifice everything.

I'm not sure I can do that. I'm not sure he would want me to.

——

[knifey]

——

Hziran 7, 7789

It's time I start looking for some help with the restaurant. Not a Sous necessarily, but someone to help with the front of house - a bartender or a server of sorts. I put out a call on the bellows, but we'll see if anyone answers. It was an odd hour, perhaps I'll make another soon.

I opened the kitchen for a little while. Luther showed up for a bit. He propositioned me again - to join the Banda. "A good cook can go far" he said. I'm flattered really, but I value my independence far more than some extra coin. Besides, if I had to feed the Banda I'd hardly have time to run the restaurant.

He's got that True Honor though - that's for certain. And I can respect his dedication to the Capitana, as he says.

——

[Some illegible scribbles made in the dark, something spilled against the page - the shimmer of blessed water.]

——