>>3331755
>>A vial of mimic salt, the most versatile seasoning in the world

>>3331779
wait no, that will not last

>>3331755
>>Your masterwork mithril chef's knife, a gift from your late master

>>3331755
>A Krucible brand, spell-cast skillet, enchanted for perfectly even heating
We need something that can handle the inevitable Fire elemental we're going to Summon/Hire

>>3331755
>Your masterwork mithril chef's knife, a gift from your late master
WE ARE THE ORICHALCUM CHEF

>>3331755
welcome back wat!

>>3331755
>A vial of mimic salt, the most versatile seasoning in the world

>>3331755
And don't flake out this time, damn you. I want to be an Orichalcum Chef

>>3331755
>A Krucible brand, spell-cast skillet, enchanted for perfectly even heating
Holy crap miracles do happen.

Rolled 1 (1d3)

Guess we'll roll for it.

>>3331779
>>3331825
1

>>3331783
>>3331792
2

>>3331791
>>3331838
3

>>3331864
DAMN YOU MIMIC SALT!

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>>3331779
>>3331825

And of course the vial of Tarantian mimic salt, worth it's weight in platinum for it's perfect versatility?

The answer is as ready to your lips as the curses that follow it: you were framed. And while you even know who framed you, your sneering, big-headed (literally, the other cooks used to call him panface) rival, Savur d'Murde, none of it actually helped in the "trial" that followed. You narrowly avoided execution only because the other cooks vouched for you. Instead you were fired and Savur d'Murde sneered in unmitigated temerity.

And where is old Savur now? Dead perhaps? With six-inches of steel protruding from his chest? No. He's still in the capital, still in the castle, still next in line for head cook of the Royal Kitchen, still on the shortlist for the Adamantium Chef competition, which, should he win it, will crown him the greatest chef in the world. Should that come to pass, your only recourse will be to drown yourself in the nearest body of water, thankfully, old panface isn't much of a cook.

Or so you'd like to believe.

Shrugging the backpack on your shoulders once more, you continue onward on the beaten path.

>To the inn first, you're tired from your journey and could use a bath and a soft bed
>To the small fortress on the hillside, to pick up the deed to your new restaurant
>To a local eatery, to size up the competition before you settle in

>>3331877
>To the inn first, you're tired from your journey and could use a bath and a soft bed
Please let the inn keeper be a cute girl! Or a cute suit of armor.

>>3331877
>>To a local eatery, to size up the competition before you settle in

>>3331877
>To the small fortress on the hillside, to pick up the deed to your new restaurant

Don't want to keep them waiting. We can get some sleep afterwards.

OOC: Guess I'll grab some breakfast while I wait for a tie-break

>>3331877
>>To a local eatery, to size up the competition before you settle in

>>3331877
>to the inn!

>>3331894
>>3331888
>>3331927
>>3331997
Combining for the sake of expedience.

>>3331877
>To the inn first, you're tired from your journey and could use a bath and a soft bed

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To the local eatery and inn first, you decide. You're feeling a little tired and quite peckish from the journey. Subsisting entirely on crackers and jam gets old after the first two days. It'll also give you a chance to scope out the local competition, though judging by the sparsity of restaurants (other than the small roadside teashops), you get the feeling it's not going to be very tough.

The self-proclaimed town of Oldstone (which, in your opinion, is really more of a village) is a husk of dilapidation fixed squarely at the border of the kingdom. The streets are narrow, the buildings are crowded, mostly abandoned and totally worn in that unique way which admits no possibility of ever having been anything else. The people are much like their buildings, walking around with their shoulders propped up, as if against a perpetual cold wind and their eyes cast down, as if searching for loose change.

It's fitting in a way; not fair, but fitting. After have come so far on so little, the gods saw fit to reduce you back to your beginnings. Heaven has a sense of humor, if nothing else.

"Welcome to Starklin's, how many with you today?" Says a young server, as you sit down in what appears to be a tavern for hardened criminals, judging by the faces of the other customers.

"What? Oh. Just me."

"What'll you have?" Your server takes out a small slateboard and a piece of chalk from her apron.

"Do you have a menu?"

"Menu?" She smiles as though you said something incredibly dumb. "No, hon. We only serve three things here. You want the breakfast, lunch or dinner?"

>Just get whatever everybody else is having, you don't plan on staying here long
>Lunch, it's lunchtime after all; and ask her to draw up a bath if possible
>Ask for details on each of the three, what's in them?

>>3332040
>since it's lunch time, ask about and then for some lunch
>tentatively ask if there's bath available

>>3332040
>>Just get whatever everybody else is having, you don't plan on staying here long

>>3332040
>Ask for details on each of the three, what's in them?

>>3332089

"Lunch then." You don't even bother asking what that entails. "And would it be possible to wash up somewhere?"

"We got an outhouse in the back."

"I was thinking more along the lines of a bath."

"Oh, well why didn't you say so? Sure, that's our specialty. The finest hot spring in a hundred miles, oh but you'll have to get a room though hon. That's policy."

"And how much is a room?"

She opens her mouth, then pauses, catching herself. "A sovereign* a night." That's highway robbery for a place like this. She's obviously taken you for a clueless tourist--which you technically are.

*1 gold Sovereign = 10 silver dollars

>Haggle her down, they don't seem in any state to refuse business
>Just pay, you don't want to argue right now
>Better just hold off on the bath for now

>>3332129
>>3332133

Whoops, sorry guys, I didn't have auto-update on and missed these two

>>3332211
>Better just hold off on the bath for now

We're gonna stank regardless from the sweat of the kitchen. Consider this an early promotion

>>3332211
Eat up first so they don’t piss in our food out of spite, then try to haggle for the mystery box. If they don’t accept five silvers, politely decline.

>>3332211
>>Better just hold off on the bath for now

>>3332211
>>Haggle her down, they don't seem in any state to refuse business

>>3332211
>Better just hold off on the bath for now
Don't start shit yet.

>>3332235
>>3332240

"I think I'll have the food first and then decide."

She frowns, which otherwise ruins her comely face. "Sure thing hon. Be right back." She goes to serve another table and leaves you to your thoughts. A moment later she returns a bowl of thick soup, with chunks of some kind of meat (hopefully nothing that was formerly sentient) and various vegetables, carrots, celery, some peas, and a few that you don't actually recognize.

You give it a tentative taste. It's...garbage. It's like eating liquid garbage. The seasoning is way off, not enough salt, too much everything else, and the meat (which you're about 90% sure is beef) is grossly undercooked. The vegetables are a pulpy mess from overcooking. It's barely even edible, but, hungry as you are, you gulp it down all the same. The bread at least goes down more easily and the ale is strong enough to almost make you blind. At the end of it you feel full, if completely unsatisfied.

The good news is, it's not going to be very difficult to top this. You might just be able to make a living here. You pay a silver for the meal and leave a few copper pennies as a tip. The waitress asks if you still want the bath, but you decide to hold off on it. She makes you promise you'll return for it later, and seeing as how you'll probably need a room for the night, you say that you will.

You head back into the street. It's only a little after midday, around 2 o'clock so there's plenty of time before you have to pick up the deed. Still, you're anxious to see your new property. Technically it's your master's old property, but he left it for you in his will. If not for that old bastard, you might be in a very different place right now. A grave for example.

>Go pick up the deed and check out your new digs
>Walk off the terrible lunch and check out the market
>Just sight-see for a little bit, there's supposed to be a docks around here somewhere and you've never seen the ocean.

>>3332340

>Go pick up the deed and check out your new digs

>>3332340
>>Just sight-see for a little bit, there's supposed to be a docks around here somewhere and you've never seen the ocean

>>3332340
>Go pick up the deed and check out your new digs

>>3332340
>>Go pick up the deed and check out your new digs

>>3332340
Well if that was our competition I guess we should have not a lot of difficulty setting up a respectable establishment providing meals that are maybe too base for our ambitions, but of better taste and nutritious value than this.

>>3332369
>>3332389

You make a beeline for the castle. Once you get settled in you can begin shopping for inventory, equipment and employees. The sooner you start the better.

The managing estate is a fairly impressive one, pre-modern in architecture, lots of domes and spires and murderholes for windows, very few arches or pillars. The guards take you to the courtier soon after you introduce yourself and you quickly learn that the courtier doubles as the reigning noble of the place.

"A will?"

"Yes, my lord." You hand him the copy of the will your master's executor left you. The courtier scans through it and leans back his massive form on a straining wicker chair.

"I see. Well yes, yes I do remember this sale." He rummages through a stack of papers on his desk, licking his thumb and leafing through them one at a time. "Aha! Here it is. Yes, the old greendale place. Hmm..." He sits up. "But it seems the taxes on it have not paid."

"Taxes?"

"Yes, six years worth. Which comes to exactly--" He begins scribbling on a piece of paper. "One thousand and three hundred silver pieces. And how will you be paying that?"

>There must be some mistake, the property is supposed to pass free and clear
>Goddamn that old bastard. Put a few sovereigns down as down-payment, you'll have to pay the rest in installments
>Starting in debt doesn't sound like the best idea, maybe you can sell back the property instead and buy something cheaper

>>3332466
>There must be some mistake, the property is supposed to pass free and clear

>>3332466
>There must be some mistake, the property is supposed to pass free and clear

>>3332466
>There must be some mistake, the property is supposed to pass free and clear

>>3332466
>There must be some mistake, the property is supposed to pass free and clear

That's obviously bull.

>>3332475
>>3332476
>>3332483
>>3332496

"There has be to some mistake."

"Mistake?" And there it is, the all too familiar glare of that species of men that are used to always getting what they want.

"I mean, I was told I would get the property free and clear. Are you sure it's the right property?"

Without bothering to double-check, he immediately answers "Quite sure. Now if you want the property you'll have to pay what's owed. And if you can't pay, then I'm afraid the law dictates that the holding goes the state, which is to say, me. So what will it be?" The noble lays his chins (plural) on the backs of his hands.

There is a tense silence.

"Ugh. Daddy, don't be such a bore." A young woman, pale enough to be a ghost, comes floating in through the doors behind you. She comes up to your side, looks you up and down as if surveying a piece of meat and then snaps her fingers. Her father, the coutier, groans and hands her the deed, which she slaps onto your chest.

"T-thank you, my lady." Your heart starts to pound. A flush of sweat pours down the side of your brow. You feel faint. Could it be? Yes.

This is the ugliest woman you've ever seen.

"Don't mention it. Cutie." She says, and then she smiles. Her teeth are crooked and blackened by years of chewing reditine, a common tobacco. Her eyes are so close together on her head, she looks like a cyclops. Her eyebrows are fused together, yet somehow move independently like conjoined twins. She tries winking at you and you have the sudden urge to punch her in the face, because any kind of rearrangement would be better than what nature has granted her. It's like watching a natural disaster unfold. A volcanic eruption or the collapse of a building during an earthquake.

"Sugarplum, shouldn't you be at your riding lessons?"

"I finished them of course, daddy, don't be silly. Although I suppose I could go for another ride." She keeps looking at you and batting her eyes. Dear god please make it stop.

>Beat a tactical retreat. Run, goddamn it, run.
>Perhaps you can milk more out of this, how about a tax break for the first year--to help a new business along?
>Maybe you'd better pay the man anyway, something tells you it might be better not to be in this woman's--creatures--favor

>>3332674
>>Maybe you'd better pay the man anyway, something tells you it might be better not to be in this woman's--creatures--favor
begone THOT

>>3332674
>Maybe you'd better pay the man anyway, something tells you it might be better not to be in this woman's--creatures--favor
A poor man can at least have a satisfied mind

>>3332674
>Beat a tactical retreat. Run, goddamn it, run.
So we start poisoning everyone.

>>3332674
I mean. Fuck. Ugly or not she's helping us. I know some folks are naturally scared of women, but there's more ways to approach them besides 'would fuck' and 'hate', even if the girl has a lust crush on you.

>Thank her, beg your pardon, and leave. Like a sane person.

>>3332674
>>3332731
This. I deleted my old vote.

>>3332674
>>3332731
I'll support this
Is the vial of salt going to run out eventually? If so why the fuck did we pick that over something that would last us forever?

>>3332674
>>Maybe you'd better pay the man anyway, something tells you it might be better not to be in this woman's--creatures--favor

>>3332739
I have no clue- I wasn't here for that vote, sadly. We'll have to be very very careful and use it during cooking duels or specific 'NEED to impress this VIP' situations.

But yeah, even if she wants our body, there's more than a couple of ways to mitigate the fact that she's ugly, if you really want. Namely, there's this (possibly literally) magical area of human aesthetic design called...

...makeup. Specifically created to make women appear more pretty than they naturally are.

Shocking, innit?

>>3332739
>salt
>boards.4channel.org
>ever running out

More seriously, yes, it will run out eventually but it's as useful an item as the other two. As you'll soon find out.

>>3332682
>>3332686
>>3332717
>>3332764
>>3332731

Writing for a combination of these.

Or, OR. We could just convince her over our acquaintanceship that we're not exactly husbando material for whatever she might expect. There's a LOT of avenues out of this that don't involve hollering, holy water, and heartbreak.

>>3332777
I'm not a liar.

>>3332808
??? What does lying have to do with it? Nothing I was inferring had to do with lying.

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>>3332821
>Make-up
>Not lying

>>3332846
How is makeup lying if you're up front about what you're doing with it? I mean, if you don't LIKE make-up, that's fine (to be frank, I don't either) but I wouldn't call it 'lying' so long as you don't pretend like you wake up like that.

>>3332866
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uS2JhJizn7E

>>3332899
(Looking at it while I post.) Okay? Like I said, don't pretend that's just how you were born, and it's whatever to me. Be honest that you're using makeup, is what I'm saying.

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>>3332926
>women
>honest

You clear your throat. For a good minute.

"Are you OK?" The young woman--creature, woman-creature, grabs your arm.

"Ahh!" You shove her off. "I mean, yes, I'm quite fine, thank you."

"Yes. You. Are." She giggles.

"You know, on second thought, I think I will pay the taxes. Not that I don't appreciate your generosity of course, but it just doesn't feel...right. Morally speaking." The gargoyle seems to consider this. Her father is more accommodating.

"Very good. I think we'll get along swimmingly, Gaston. So again that's--"

"Six hundred silver pieces even. Right?" You smile sweetly at him. He looks to his daughter, who in turn is still staring at you and breathing heavily.

He sighs and crosses something out on a ledger. "Right."

"And I'll be paying that in installments, once I get set up."

"Of course." He grits his teeth. "Get set up?"

"Oh, I suppose to forgot to mention--I'm a cook. A chef. I'm planning to open a restaurant here." The gorgon screams and claps her hands.

"Did you hear that daddy? A chef! Oh, will you cook for me sometime? Can I come to your restaurant?"

You'd rather swallow knives. "Of course, my lady. Anytime."

"A restaurant." He doesn't sound impressed. "Very well. Do as you will."

You put down two sovereigns as a down payment and then take your leave before the lady's hands get any more adventurous. She actually had a decent figure, from behind, but you're certain you will have nightmares about that face for the rest of your life. At least you got the dead and that only with half the taxes left to pay.

On the deed is an address, which you follow to:

>A rundown abandoned inn, almost falling apart at the beams
>A lone tower that must've once been part of some kind of curtain wall but now stands among a shanty town
>A small cramped shop sandwiched between two others in the commercial, more affluent part of town

>>3332943
>A rundown abandoned inn, almost falling apart at the beams

On the move at the moment. But I'm >>3332731.

Frankly, I think that Gaston is a bit strange. If she's going to be a big customer, that she's going to be a fucking paying customer. He's basically saying he don't want money. Speaking of.

Voting for this because it gives us more opportunity to expand and customize at will, and it also allows us a bit of a home space if it's got two floors. Obviously it'd be more of a fixer-upper than the others, but that will come in time and allow us to put our own mark on the place.

>>3332943
>A lone tower that must've once been part of some kind of curtain wall but now stands among a shanty town

>>3332943
>>A rundown abandoned inn, almost falling apart at the beams

Yes! Bed and breakfast, here we come! We could become the tavern where all the adventurers start their journey!

>>3332943
>A rundown abandoned inn, almost falling apart at the beams
If we could put a sack or a mask on her face, or enchant her with some spell..... Or curse our eyes with on....

>>3332943
>>A rundown abandoned inn, almost falling apart at the beams

>nb4 we become the unseen chef in the back of the building and partner up with some charismatic wannabe innkeeper.

>>3332979
>>3333005
>>3333095
>>3333123

It's a rundown, abandoned inn. To call it a building is being generous. It's more a collection of construction materials trying to approximate what a building looks like--and failing hard. The windows are smashed and layered with thick grime. You're not sure who stole your doors, or why, but they were thorough, there's not a single one in the whole house. The second floor is inaccessible on account of a collapsed staircase. The basement is only accessible because of a rope ladder and is little more than a hole in the ground--albeit a spacious one. The kitchen is little more than a bone dry basin and an old brick oven (which is falling apart as well).

But it's not all bad. The plumbing is miraculously intact and the foundation looks sturdy, stone and mortar instead of wood. With a little work, this place could really be something. And the location is not bad, just a block from the northern gate, right along the main road.

Well it's not the grand kitchens of the royal court, but it'll have to do.

>You should get someone in here to inspect the damage and give you a price on the bigger repairs
>You should start by heading to the market and hiring some laborers to clear out what you can
>You should spend the rest of the day cleaning the place out yourself, save money

>>3332899
This shit is absolutely miraculous and has inspired a future scene for this quest. Thanks for this anon.

>>3333265
>>You should spend the rest of the day cleaning the place out yourself, save money

>>3333271
No problem. I do what I can.

File: good job.gif (1.6 MB, 300x320)

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>>3333271
>>3333278

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LET'S FUCKING GO!

>>3333265
>You should spend the rest of the day cleaning the place out yourself, save money
>>You should get someone in here to inspect the damage and give you a price on the bigger repairs

We need to budget shit.

>>3333265
>You should spend the rest of the day cleaning the place out yourself, save money
Let's see if we can get the kitchen and at least part of the common room into working order...

>>3333265
>You should get someone in here to inspect the damage and give you a price on the bigger repairs
>You should start by heading to the market and hiring some laborers to clear out what you can
>You should spend the rest of the day cleaning the place out yourself, save money

Well we get some guy to look over the place and do some cleaning, and next day we hire some laborers?

>>3333265
>You should spend the rest of the day cleaning the place out yourself, save money

>>3333367
Basically this. None of these options are explicitly exclusive, but the ORDER in which we do them matters, I think.

We should start by getting an inspector in FIRST, then clean out what we can, THEN hire laborers.

>>3333278
>>3333360
>>3333364
>>3333364
>>3333375

You unpack your things and take a moment to count what money you have left over. 22 silver, 8 sovereigns and some half-pennies. The rest gone to the abysmal meal and the down-payment on the ruin you now own.

Best then, to save as much as you can. At least until you get the place operational. That means you'll have to put in some elbow work and despite yourself, you actually feel excited. True, Oldstone lacks the hustle and bustle of the capital and true, you won't exactly be catering to bluebloods (and in the case of the dragon in the castle, you pray that you won't) but it's always been something of a dream of yours to manage your own place. Granted that would've been after you clinched the title of Adamantium Chef and gone down in history as both the world's greatest chef and it's most notorious playboy, but you try and roll with the punches.

Searching the closets (again no doors), you find an assortment of cleaning supplies. Broom, mop, dustpan, duster, even an old jar of Griffon blood, which technically is for washing clothes but should work just as well for tough stains.

You spend the remainder of the day mopping the commons area and clearing the kitchen of debris. In the process you discover that there is a generous backyard to the place where you might be able to set up a garden. Maybe even a fish pond and a few chicken coops.

It's almost sunset when you finally quit for the day. There's still a lot of work left, but the commons area at least looks livable and the kitchen not like a hurricane had just passed through. As you sit back on an old stool you hear something above your head. It sounds like...footsteps? Could it be burglars? You look around at the sheer desolation that surrounds you. Probably not burglars. Rats maybe. Or raccoons.

You head for the broken staircase and there, sitting on the edge of the top floor you see a pair of eyes watching you from darkness. Glowing, pale yellow, but too large to be a cat's.

>Attempt to communicate
>Try to get closer with your candle
>Get some help from a neighbor, preferably one with a weapon

>>3333657

>Attempt to communicate.
>"...Hello? If you're living here at the moment, don't worry, I'm not going to kick you out- at least not for a while."

>>3333657
>Attempt to communicate

>>3333676
Supporting that

>>3333676
support

>>3333676
I'll support this

>>3333676
>>3333684
>>3333685
>>3333729
>>3333758

"Hello?" The eyes draw back. "Look if you're living here right now, I'm not gonna kick you out. So don't worry OK?"

The eyes turn to the side, as if asking a question. Then strangely, they change color--and shape--becoming smaller, less feline and more...human. But you still cannot make out what it is in the dark and before you can say anything more, the eyes turn away and your hear footsteps--heavier ones this time--retreat into one of the inner rooms.

A mystery for another time. Right now you need something to eat and some place to lay your head. You still have some cracks and jam left in your bag and you suppose you could lay down on the commons area, there's an old couch here you can use. But maybe it would be worth going back to that wretched inn, Starklin's and getting a room there. You could use a bath too, after all the work you just did.

Or, maybe if the market is still open you can buy some ingredients and whip up a quick meal. You at least brought your skillet and knife and even if the oven still needs some work there's a fireplace that you can use.

>Head to the market
>Head to the inn
>Stay here and eat crackers

>>3333878
>>Head to the market

Might as well see what's available, even if we can't get anything big until tomorrow.

>>3333878
>Head to the inn
After traveling, the hassle, cleaning, a nice warm bath will really soothe the soul.

>>3333889

support

>>3333878
Sweet, good story is a boon to a tavern. This tenant may turn out to be quite a valuable asset.

>let’s check out the market.
Although if there’s plumbing we might want to clean ourselves first. Nothing quite as relaxing as a bath would but at least we won’t make impression of a dirty hobo, that would probably do no favour to our reputation.

>>3333923
Actually, agreed.

>>3333889
>>3333923
>>3333951

You'd be happy if you never had to eat at that inn for the rest of your life. The sun is still up, the market still open, there's no reason you shouldn't whip up something yourself. Going even two days without handling a knife or hot skillet is enough to make you antsy.

So, gathering your things and leaving the unvaluables behind (which you hope your mysterious guest won't try to take) you venture forth to the market. You soon learn that the Oldstone bazaar is one of its main features, the other, a depleted mithril quarry (from which the town gets name, "mithril" meaning literally, Old rock, in the vulgar elvish) now acts as a residential and commercial district for the town's less wealthier denizens.

The quarry itself is bowl shaped and all along its walls, which extend for at least 50 meters at the shortest point and almost 80 at its highest, are tunnels which have been expanded into caves. Around the perimeter of these caves there are paths, ladders and scaffolds. And there are rope bridges which hang from one cave to another creating a network of pathways reminiscent of a tangle of string, or the web of a tunnel spider. Apparently these bridges are all taken down at night and set up a new every morning. There are those that contend no two set ups are ever the same and so the bazaar is made new every day.

As for the selection of goods, at least in the realm of groceries and meats, it leaves much to be desired. Fish is at least plentiful, on account of the proximity to the ocean, clams, several species of mollusc, some strange red species of squid which the fishmonger assures you tastes fine raw, and crabs. Beef however, chicken however, even goat however, are imported, rare and prohibitively expensive. Apparently the only meat comes from the occasional game killed by passing adventurers, which in fact is plentiful enough to sustain the town's appetite. There's plenty of deer, stag and some other less recognizable creatures.

The only thing that grows in the surrounding soil are a species of rice native to the land, likewise a species of barley and a few kinds of leafy greens (mostly red spinach and chard) as well as a kind of small blood-red thing which the vendor assured you was a potato.

Even these are limited quantity and asking around you learn about some kind of dispute between the reigning lord and the surrounding farmers which has led to a kind of embargo that benefits no one. There was a lot of spitting and cursing over the matter and no resolution on the horizon.

But in the realm of cookware and knives, Oldstone is a treasure trove. While the mithril mines have long since been depleted their mark remains. It's not the masterwork craftsmanship of the tools your master used, but it's still mithril.

>You have 102 silver
>The market closes in an hour

>Just buy some groceries and meat (write-in particulars if you wish)
>Check out the cookware
>Ask around for a deal with the farmers directly

>>3334115
>Just buy some groceries and meat.
>Fish can be cooked an endless amount of ways and still taste good. Rice is a staple for a reason, get that. Need our greens for garnish, we can try the blood potato, see what we can do with it. Deer really can't be cooked a ton of ways, so we should pass on it for now.

>Get a decent skillet. Knives can be compensated for, but a good skillet is something that can directly affect flavor.

>>3334115
>>Ask around for a deal with the farmers directly

Doesn't hurt to open up avenues of trade early. Plus, it'll be a steal, since they may want to get rid of things instead of hauling it back.

OOC: My arm is beginning to act up a little so I think I'll have to call it quits for now. I'll leave the vote open and probably finish off the thread tomorrow (only a one or two updates worth of stuff left anyway for the session). After that the next session will be next Saturday as usual.

Thanks for reading, playing, and lurking!

>>3334115
>Just buy some groceries and meat (write-in particulars if you wish)

We won't have enough time for cooking and eating later.

We have some basic cookware right?

Some pork sirloin, bacon, 2 dozen eggs, 2 liters of milk, sweet potatoes, onions, yellow and red bell peppers, salt, cabbage, a cheap wine, carrots, peas, olive oil, whole loaf of bread, cheese, and some oranges.

>>3334296
Thank you, Chairman Kaga! Until next time!

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>>3334386
>>3334296

>>3334311
Yes, you have a skillet and a chef's knife. Also the fireplace has a cauldron you can use (after a good wash).

>>3334441
So would this hypothetical quest hypothetically take place in the same universe as a enterprising chemist?

>>3335601
...the quest itself isn't hypothetical, since it's active.

>>3335615
Shhh, don't scare him off.

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>>3335601
Who do you think made Bass no. 5? Hint: the bottle has pic related on it

>>3335737
Jesus?

>>3334115
>Buy some groceries and meat
>Ask around for a deal with the farmers directly

>>3335792
it's a trademark for alchemist from the elf slave quest

>>3334115
>Buy some groceries, fish, and a small amount of emergency meat.
>Try all the plantlife, you may not be able to experiment with them all immediately, but you can see how long the freshness lasts.
>Get some takeout boxes, these will be used to bribe the farmers/lord

>>3334115
First we need to
>Just buy some groceries and meat (write-in particulars if you wish)
Supporting >>3334170
>Fish
Cheap and can be cooked lots of ways
>Rice
Staple, and we can serve it with fish or cook it with greens to make a fried rice thing
>Greens
No scurvy in OUR restaurant. Might as well get as many different types as we can to vary the garnish served with the fish.
>Potato
Another staple when we run out of rice. Also to experiment with.

Also
>>Ask around for a deal with the farmers directly
Since the market is closing soon, we might be able to haggle a good deal on anything that the farmer needs to move '''today'' but hasn't found a buyer for.

Splurge out on cookware once we've built up a fund buffer. Same with the more expensive meats.

Also good to see you back Watdo

cool quest, please continue it. business/enterprise stuff never lasts long. +1 regular for ya if you continue

>>3334170
supporting

>>3334170
>>3334311
>>3336115
>>3336324
>>3336398
>>3337817

Groceries

>>3334200
>>3336115
>>3336398

Talk about farmers

Writing for a combination of the two.

And sorry I'm so late, been a shitty day so far.

>>3339031
No worries. Tell us all about it.

The merchants here are suspicious of outsiders, especially those from the city and you very quickly begin to suspect them of blackballing you. These suspicions are soon confirmed once you start hearing the words "ruunkinder" and "met haru" under the breaths. Vulgar elvish for "city-slicker" and an expression which has no direct translation, but basically means, "one who sodomizes himself with gold bars". The elves were a vocal critic of sodomy, possibly because it was so rampant in their own population.

At any rate, you come away with two cloth bags full of groceries, focusing on a combination of fish, rice, the red spinach and chard, and a handful of blood potatoes (that's not what they're called but their actual name has too many elvish vowels in it to be worth the effort). It's not enough to run the restaurant on, but it should hold you through the week.

You also make some headway on gathering leads for possible suppliers. It turns out that the dispute and resulting embargo is over some piece of land that the lord recently acquired. A small volcanic island several hundred miles off the coast. The farmers want access to it for its rich soil--which they intend to bring back to seed their own fields. The lord has refused to listen to their requests, citing that to cross so far into the ocean would require a much more substantial vessel. Something, he doesn't want to spend money on. The farmers claim he only says this because he wants to sell the land as quickly as possible and pocket the profits for himself. So, they petitioned the king behind the lord's back. The lord was reprimanded and told to "handle the situation" which he did by accusing one of the farmers of violating a new law, dictating had to wear socks outdoors at all times. The punishment for this was death by hanging and the law was repealed soon afterwards. The farmers got the message but interpreted it differently than the lord would have liked.

They have decided to boycott direct sale in the market, thereby, avoiding the primary means of tax. A loophole in the bylaws that states merchants are to have a significantly lowered rate of taxes for the "promotion of trade and commerce". The merchants are making a killing, the lord is depleting his own coffers to pay his taxes to the king and the farmers are sitting stubborn. All in all, a ripe opportunity for an enterprising restaurateur looking to snag a direct supplier.

You return to your ruins near dark, with everything still where you left it. You don't hear anything above you, so you assume the squatter has decided to either vacate the premises or has just gone to sleep. Either way, it's time to get down to what you do best: cook

>Make some fish soup using the cauldron over the fireplace
>Get out the skillet, saute/smoke some fish and vegetables for a quick meal
>Try making some rice in the cauldron; prepare the fish raw with a pinch of the mimic salt

>>3339123
>Make some fish soup using the cauldron over the fireplace

>>3339123
>>Make some fish soup using the cauldron over the fireplace
Make an extra portion, it might come down when it smells food.

>>3339123
>>Try making some rice in the cauldron; prepare the fish raw with a pinch of the mimic salt

Sushi here we come!

>>3339123
>>Get out the skillet, saute/smoke some fish and vegetables for a quick meal

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>>3339128
>>3339133

The broken windows and distinct lack of doors destroys any concept of insulation and while it may be late spring, the nights here are chilly. With that in mind you decide to make something that will help fight against the cold: a simple fish chowder with leafy greens and potatoes.

The fish and greens are prepped without much trouble but the blood potato is near impossible to peel--until you plop it into the boiling water, at which point it bleeds its colors and lets off a delicious sweet aroma, very similar to that of cinnamon. You set it aside for later. The potatoes don't need any more peeling after that, so you cut them into quarters and begin working on the veggies. The carrots, celery and onions are given a quick saute with a knob of butter, you then add some garlic and some chopped tomatoes for acid.

Alas you have none of meticulously maintained stocks of the royal kitchen, but for now, water laced with the secretions of the blood potatoes, should do just as well. You dump your stock into the cauldron, being careful not to maintain the simmer once the water comes to a boil. You add the fish and not having any other seasonings besides salt, just the slightest pinch of the mimic crystals.

In a matter of minutes the entire commons room is filled with the aroma of the soup and in a few more, the soup is ready to be served. As you reach behind you for a bowl from your bag, your hand brushes something soft and slippery. Not like water, not like oil, but somehow a combination of these things. You turn around.

You scream.

The...thing, seems to flinch and immediately retreat back toward the broken staircase, leaving a trail of gray slime in its wake. You can see it's eyes, pale yellow and human-like, watching your movements. You stand up. Take a step forward. Another step.

"Hey there."

It doesn't say anything. Just watches. Another step. And then it strikes.

SESSION END

OK that's all for this session! As I said earlier, the next session will be next Saturday 8 AM. As always, thanks for reading, playing and lurking!

>>3339211
I mean...we would've shared. I literally had plans for a write in to ask for it to taste test just in case.

>>3339211
Thank you watdo. See you next time.

>>3339211
>the bag was actually a mimic

>>3339211
OH FUCK WATDO
IS THAT REALLY YOU?

>>3339246
You probably should have wrote in to be prepared for it, then. A soup has a strong smell.

>>3339153
sidenote, sushi doesn't really.....DO seasoning. It's something else, not that the name should really matter.

>>3339211
Damn shame I couldn't be there for the session, looking for-ward to the next one

>>3339254
The mimic salt was a mimic.

>>3339211
if the mimic transforms into a waifu im going to be really disappointed but not at all surprised.