Book 2: Chapter 23: Flambè de Dwarf

Book 2: Chapter 23: Flambè de Dwarf

Previously, In the stands

We all sat at the edge of our seats as dozens of small stories unfolded before us. The crowd cheered, booed, and roared their approval and laughter at the appropriate moments, spurred on by the announcer. This chapter made its debut appearance via N0v3lB1n.

“OOOOH!!! HE’S GOING TO FEEL THAT IN HIS ANKLES IN THE MORNING!”

“AND THE RUSTY BATTLEAXE REALLY PUT THE HURT INTO THE FICKLE FIG!”

“KEBAB CUISINE HAS PURCHASED CHICKPEAS, PARSLEY, TOMATOES, AND CILANTRO! WHAT COULD SHE BE MAKING!?”

“IT LOOKS LIKE THE THIRSTY GOAT AND THE HUNGRY DUCKLING HAVE CORNERED THE SPICE MARKET! WHAT A CLEVER PLAN, LET’S SEE IF THEY CAN AVOID RETRIBUTION FROM THE OTHER ANGRY CHEFS!”

Our small knot of supporters surged to our feet at that one.

“Brilliant Plan, Bran!” I cried.

“Ha ha!” Aqua cheered. “He’s going to win this for sure!”

*MEEEEEEEHHH!!!* [Translated from Primma Donna Goat] “Show them your mettle, my servant!”

Penelope nipped at my beard. Ok, maybe she was actually demanding food. I passed her a goat snack.

A chorus of laughter engulfed the arena as the dwarves in the dungeon supplies section started fighting over the remaining spices. In the meantime Bran made his way through the rest of the market without incident. He filled his sack with a bunch of different vegetables and then snuck out towards the general goods.

The announcer announced all the while. “AND THE THIRSTY GOAT HAS PURCHASED ERDROOT, MUSHROOMS, LEMONS, GREEN ONIONS, AND DUNGEON GREENS! WHAT COULD HE BE MAKING? MOST OF THE GOOD MEATS ARE ALREADY GONE! HE STILL HASN’T MADE IT TO THE MEAT MARKET, SO COULD IT BE A VEGETARIAN DISH? OR IS HE PLANNING A MORE DIRECT APPROACH?”

“Do ya have any idea what he’s makin’!?” Balin yelled at me over the sound of the crowd.

I pursed my lips in consideration. “There’s no way it’s a vegetarian dish, that would be sure to lose; too many dwarves are picky about their vegetables. It’s got to be... a chicken or fish dish. Maybe onion and mushroom chicken? Or it could be Mushrooms Neptune - I mean Mushrooms Aaron.”

I’d taught him the signature appy of my favourite Canadian steakhouse on a lark, but he’d really fallen in love with it and made it his own.

“What’s that?” Johnsson asked from over my shoulder.

“A fish dish. Remember those mushrooms filled with cave crab? It’ll stand out, and it’s really tasty.” If that was what he was doing, it was a great plan.

“Oooh, I did quite like those,” Moony said affectionately.

Bran ran into the House of Meat’s chef, and the two of them exchanged words. Then, quick as thought, Bran nailed the gnome with his frying pan and was looting his shopping bag. We all jumped up and began waving our posters and signs and shouting our support. He couldn’t hear us in there, the announcer had said outside sound was mostly filtered out, but maybe he would look over and spot us.

“AND THE THIRSTY GOAT NOW HAS THE BEST CUTS OF MEAT IN THE MARKET!! IF THAT WAS PLANNED, IT WAS A GREAT PLAN!”

I looked over at Opal, who was clenching her fists and straining her jaw. Most of the nobles were either disinterested or uncaring. A few seemed invested, and one of them even had a bottle of Ass-Blaster in his hand. He was standing with one foot on the hand-rail, shouting and waving his arms in joy and anger. I realized with a start that I actually recognized him. He was one of the heavy bettors from the Barck Beer Brawl. The other nobles around him were slowly backing out of the blast zone.

Speaking of which.

“Did any of you bet anything on this? I didn’t have time.” I asked the crew.

“I put a couple gold on Bran.” Johnsson put up his hand.

“I spent all ma spare change on some new grimoires. No gold left fer bettin’." Richter shrugged.

"That may be a good idea..." John muttered.

“I didn’t, did we need to?” Aqua asked.

I sighed. “It would have been helpful, we’re almost broke after buying all those new tanks.”

“What!?” Annie screeched, then caught the twinkle in my eye. “YOU!!!”

Aqua and I laughed.

“Stop teasin’ Annie, Pete.” Balin said, but one side of his handlebar moustache was higher than the other.

I rolled my eyes. “Fiiiine. Y’know, this is fun, but it feels weird. Shouldn’t a cooking competition mostly be about cookin’?”

“Well, it is entertaining. Some weirdo noble in Kinshasa probably invented it. To watch the [Artisans] who’re better dwarves than they’ll ever be get all banged up.” Johnsson grumbled. “The judges’ll make sure tha best chef still wins.”

It actually reminded me of a Canadian cooking show called Cutthroat Kitchen. The grocery rush, sabotage, and other features were quite similar. Perhaps the designer loved wrestling and wanted some of that bombast in the Octamillenial contests? Or ...

Down below, Bran had completed his purchases in the general goods and was making his way out of the market.

“Look! That House of Meats dinkleberry is back!” Markus pointed. “And he’s brought friends!!!”

We all sat at attention at that, and a few others began to notice the tableau.

“OOOH, THE THIRSTY GOAT’S LUCK HAS RUN OUT! HE MAY BE RELIEVED OF SOME OF THOSE SPICES IN JUST A MOMENT! THE FICKLE FIG HAS CHARGED HIM, AND - WAIT, WHAT’S - “

Possible Milestone: [Resist Pain]!

You can shrug off pain that would lay low the strongest of mortals. Perception is reduced by 16 for the purpose of perceiving pain.

This Ability is always available.

Accept [Resist Pain]?

Yes/No

Possible Milestone: [Resist Fire]!

Armour cannot stop the burning heat of fire, but your body will! Your body becomes resistant but not immune to the burning heat of fire.

This Ability is always available.

Accept [Resist Fire]?

Yes/No

Possible Milestone: [Loved By Craft]!

The dedication you show your craft is returned eightfold. Decreases the chance of your craft failing for the next hour.

You can use this Ability twice per day.

Accept [Loved By Craft]?

Yes/No

Possible Milestone: [Perceive Ambush]!

You have been ambushed once! Never again! Gives an indication when you are about to be ambushed.

This Ability can be activated twice per day.

Accept [Percieve Ambush]?

Yes/No

Bran considered for a second, but the best choice was obvious. What other option could there be for one who loved his craft? He chose [Loved by Craft] with a crafty smile, and heaved a breath. His head must still be muddled, because he could still hear ringing in his ears. How long had he been out? What about the contest!? He felt a spike of fear; was it over!?

Then he looked up.

The entire arena was chanting in rhythm, their voices coming as though from a distance. The sound reverberated through his boots, over ten thousand voices combining like an earthquake that shook the very sand of the arena.

They were all shouting, Bran.

Bran.

Bran.

Every eye was on him, but he turned to look at the only dwarf who mattered.

Opal was standing on the railings, pushing against the barrier. Her mouth moved the same as everyone else. Tears streamed down her face, and he was ashamed that he’d made her worry so. He stood and gave her a fist closed salute to his chest. She clasped her hands against her mouth and then gave him a single tearful nod.

It was all he needed. Strength flooded his limbs and Bran swung about looking for his sack. Had it been taken? How screwed was he. There. Bran grabbed the bag where it lay just a metre away and opened it, his heart dreading what he would find.

The meat he’d stolen from House of Meats had vanished, along with most of the pepper and spices, but the rest of it was still there. Bran closed his eyes and thanked the Gods and Tilakatan that she hadn’t taken his entire life-line. All was not lost, and he owed her a favour, or a beating, maybe both. He only had one stop, and he could begin cooking. But did he have enough time?

The next minutes passed as though in slow motion as he raced through the market. An intimidated dwarven fishmonger handed over a pair of trout and some shredded crab for a mere gold, practically throwing the wrapped fish into his hands.

Each moment his [Regeneration] brought him closer to full health, and Bran was sprinting as he exited the market. He passed through the wards, and the sound hit him like a physical blow.

“BRAN! BRAN! BRAN!”

The voices changed to joyful cheering, and hats, shoes, dwarves, and goats were flung around in the crowd.

The announcer’s voice rang out. “AND BRAN HURLER MAKES IT OUT OF THE MARKET! IT LOOKS LIKE HE’S PLANNING A FISH PLATE! IS IT A CHANGE IN PLAN? WILL HE HAVE TIME TO FINISH? HE ONLY HAS ONE HOUR LEFT!!!”

One hour, it was enough.

Well, it was enough if he cut some corners, but then -

Bran spun his knife and grinned. “[Basic Knifework].”

He was good at cutting.