Touch of Fate

"The Cooking skill can be used to create enhancement items, and this is part of the reason that the culinary arts became such a big part of the culture of the Riverlands. Cooking also holds the distinction of being the only known method of improving skills through the use of an item." Morris started explaining in full on lecture mode.

"What do you mean? Like you can raise your skill ranks just by eating?"

"More or less, although only the most expensive materials can create that sort of effect, and even then the benefits are pretty minor. Quite frankly, unless you are stuck in a rut in your training, it is usually more cost effective to simply hire a trainer or pay for a dungeon guide."

It made sense that the overall effect of Cooking couldn't compare to legitimate training. After all, if someone could get stronger simply by eating the right kinds of expensive foods, then the wealthiest members of this world's society should be taking full advantage of it. Since he'd never even heard of the possibility before arriving in Gildusi, it seemed likely that it wasn't very commonly practiced outside of the Riverlands. That did beg another question, though.

"If it's so ineffective, why do the people here take it so seriously?" He asked.

The bard sighed. "Beyond the benefits associated with improving their food culture, it's a product of tradition more than anything else." He briefly looked over at a stack of books sitting on a nearby table. "According to local historians, the rulers of a few key city states originally invested in developing skilled chefs with the intention of using enhancement foods to give their followers an edge over their rivals."

Morris stood up and walked over to the table selecting a slender volume with the title, Food Wars: The Origins of the Riverlands' Cooking Obsession. Flipping it open to a section near the beginning, he explained. "The difference was pretty minor, of course, but it was enough to break the centuries-long deadlock which had been preventing territorial changes in this part of the world. Gradually, these cooks began to turn the tide of regional conflicts until their competitors started using similar methods. Eventually, all the other cities followed suit."

[Ah, so it was basically a kind of arms race.] Mike thought, before asking, "I assume something changed?"

"Yeah, they started running out of ingredients."contemporary romance

"...What, like the whole country?"

Morris nodded. "You see, out of all the edible products in this world, only a small percentage of them can be used to create enhancement foods. These products also tend to be difficult to procure or harvest, usually requiring a great deal of time and money. While some advancements in the field of Artifice have allowed for the artificial cultivation of a few materials, the vast majority of the ingredients typically used in this kind of cooking have to be collected from natural sources. After a few decades of heavy consumption, most of this region was depleted of said resources, and the cities were forced to rely on imports from other countries."

"I'm guessing that was expensive?"

"Of course. The rising costs of maintaining force parity started to bankrupt several city states, eventually leading to the establishment of the so-called Seasoning Compact, in which rules governing inter-city conflicts were finally established and all participants were bound to uphold them. The newfound era of peace allowed governments to cut back on their overinflated military budgets to something more manageable."

Guessing what the bard was leading to, Mike tried to steal his thunder. "Which left the chefs adrift without sponsorship. This in turn led to the creation of the Mythril Chef concept, as well as the proliferation of these cooking contests as a means of maintaining their food culture without excessive cost. Isn't that right?"

Morris frowned. "Essentially, yes. There was a bit more nuance to...nevermind, it doesn't really matter, I suppose. Anyway, to answer your original question, while you certainly could use Cooking to make foods capable of enhancing your skills, I doubt it would serve any purpose for someone like you."

Nodding along with his friend, Mike nevertheless couldn't help but feel that it was still a path worth pursuing, assuming he had the time. Perhaps if he reached a high enough level of skill, the benefits would begin to outweigh the costs?

The older man sighed upon seeing his expression. "It doesn't seem like you are going to take my word for it, so I guess you'll just have to try it for yourself. I'll see about tracking down some introductory manuals and some starting ingredients."

Mike grinned. "Thanks, I appreciate it. For everything, I mean."

"No problem. I've determined that my role in the party is to be well-informed and have access to useful information. If my efforts have proved helpful, then so much the better.��� Morris replied, a slightly forlorn note entering his otherwise warm words.

"Well, alright then. I'll let you get back to sleep." Mike replied with a wave, leaving the bard to his rest.

[...I guess Sera's not the only one who's been feeling inadequate lately.] He thought to himself as he began considering how to spend the rest of the night.

There were still several hours until sunrise, and even though the Guild likely operated all night long in some capacities, he was fairly certain that he'd need to wait for the Guildmaster to complete his request.

[Can't do anything too flashy, and I don't want to open up the demi-realm this late while everyone's asleep...I guess I can work on my less ostentatious skills.]

He pulled a few items out of his inventory and set about working on his Alchemy, something he'd been largely neglecting lately. He'd hit a stumbling point in his development and had been having a hard time breaking through to the next tier of the skill. It was his hope that the newly acquired materials would give him an edge.

After a few hours of work, they did the trick.

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Advanced Alchemy (Tier 2, Rank 1)

Alchemy is the process of altering magic and mundane materials into finished products. Although the methods vary based on the particular recipe, all alchemical products bear some trace of magical influence. Allows users to create alchemical items, retain memories of recipes, and develop an intuitive understanding of the subtle aspects of the craft. Current mutation rate: 0.5%.

Rank 1 Effect: Infusion

- Infusion -

Skilled alchemists inevitably develop a means of imbuing their consumable creations with a portion of their personal mana, allowing them to both enhance and subtly alter the effects of said creations. While the nature of these changes are limited by both a user's mana reserves and skill level, it is nevertheless possible to radically reinvent an alchemical item.

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[This seems like it could be pretty useful.] Mike thought to himself as he began packing up his utensils.

The red tinged light of dawn was already streaming in through the window, and he figured that the rest of his party would soon be awake. After breakfast, he planned on taking them all down to the Guild to turn in his request and then have them all registered and promoted.

Things went smoothly for a change, and in a few short hours he was standing inside the guildmaster's office with the others waiting outside, business more or less completed. Sera, Morris, and Lily had all been registered as Rank 3 adventurers, with the promise of quick promotions to follow. They would still have to complete a few requests, purely as a justification, but the Guildmaster could then use his authority to forcibly increase their Rank to 5.

Since she was a fairly high ranking adventurer to begin with, Tal was simply promoted to Rank 6 after an aptitude test that she passed with flying colors.

With nothing else to do, Mike began leading the group out. He was eager to begin their dungeon training. However, he was stopped by the Guildmaster.

"Before you go, I did want to leave you with a word of warning."

Mike sighed. He had a feeling this would be troublesome. "Yes?"

"I'm sure you are aware that your presence in this city has largely been revealed, right? Well, there are a few groups that are taking a great interest in your actions here. I fear that assisting the Guild during this sensitive time might have made you a target."

"If they are willing to incite the wrath of a Tier 4 mage, then I suspect there is little hope for them." He growled back, already sick of the intrigue that has been plaguing his life for the last few months.

"Oh, I seriously doubt they'd move openly against you. Only fools would knowingly poke a sleeping dragon. However, I've been receiving reports to suggest a few of the major powers in the region are at least investigating you."

Mike felt his jaw clench in annoyance. He knew he largely had himself to blame for the situation, but he couldn't help but think that it was a pain in the ass. "Anything specific?"

The Guildmaster replied with a secretive smile, as if hinting that even he couldn't be fully trusted. "The White Lions have been poking around a bit, gathering information. By all accounts, it appears that they are merely trying to keep tabs on you. However, they are not known for their restraint, so I would caution you to avoid any direct interaction with them."

Narrowing his gaze, Mike tried to determine if the other man was lying. It was painfully obvious from their previous interactions that the Guildmaster was an itinerant schemer who would have probably been quite comfortable in politics.

"Am I supposed to believe this warning has nothing to do with the strained relationship between the Lions and the Guild?"

The older man grinned. "You are welcome to think that way, if you like. I doubt I could convince you otherwise. I should also mention that they are not the only ones taking an interest in you. We've had several agents approaching us in an effort to investigate you. It seems that there are many who are curious as to your purpose in this city."

"Are you aware of who these agents serve?"

The old man hesitated for a second. "For the most part, no. I don't have much authority or power outside of my role as Guildmaster, so it is difficult for me to stay informed about local powers. Most likely they are representatives of the more powerful merchants in the area, who probably want to use you for their economic interests. They won't do much more than watch you for the time being, so it's likely safe to ignore them."

The Guildmaster opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a bottle filled with a clear liquid and two glasses. "In any event, I wanted to thank you for completing that request in such a timely manner. With your contributions, I think our representative has a fair chance of winning the competition. Before you go, would you perhaps be willing to join me in a drink to celebrate."

Mike watched the man as he filled both glasses. Even as far away as he was, he could tell from the smell it was a potent alcoholic drink. A quick Appraise confirmed that it was a variety of locally sourced, distilled liquor.

[This feels a bit forced. Does he have some other objective?]

Trusting in his infuriatingly effective Poison Resistance to negate any harmful side effects, and trying not to think too hard about the fact that he was a teenager drinking alone with a middle-aged man, he accepted the glass and quickly threw it back after the other man had drunk his.

Despite the expected burn, the alcohol was surprisingly smooth. While it didn't have much of a flavor, it was drinkable enough that Mike would've had no problem drinking it regularly.

[Would go pretty well with a nice salty snack.]

"Thanks." He offered, raising his glass in a casual salute to the Guildmaster, who simply nodded in return, a knowing smile on his face.

It was then that Mike noticed a small slip of paper stuck to the bottom of his glass. Sighing internally, he surreptitiously pocketed the message and returned the cup. "Well, I should be going. There's a lot still to do today."

"Of course, of course. I wouldn't want to keep you. Please feel free to come back any time. My office is always open to accomplished adventurers such as yourself."

Closing the door behind him, Mike rejoined the others and led them back in the direction of the inn. There they would separate out into delving pairs. He had some idea of who should go with who, but he wanted to involve them in the decision.

While they were walking, he carefully pulled out the slip of paper and glanced at it, keeping a close eye on his surroundings with all of his sensory skills.

Written on it was a simple message. "You have gained the attention of the Court of the Undying."

Folding the paper again, he slipped it back into his pocket, frowning.

"Something the matter?" Morris asked from his side, obviously taking note of his friend's expression.

Before he answered, Mike froze in place. Just for a second, he'd felt a momentary flash of hostility from the very edges of his perception. Whipping around, he focused his attention on the area in question, scanning the location with Aerosense at maximum sensitivity. However, he couldn't find anything out of the usual.

"Mike?" The bard asked again, trying to follow his gaze.

"There's been a change of plans. We're leaving the city. Now."

done.co