Morcster Chef - B3 Chapter 1 (Patreon)

Arek sat before a campfire along with the rest of the Happy Sunflowers, warming his hands as the chill of winter started to set in all around them. Gentle snow drifted down from the cloudy sky and blanketed the ground around them.

“Is it ready yet?” Ming asked, popping out from a snowdrift. “I’m hungry and you’ve been cooking since yesterday. Food should be done faster than that.”

“I put the beans in water to soak yesterday,” Arek corrected. “They haven’t been cooking. They’ve been softening.”

He’d bought the aforementioned beans in the markets of the Floating Cities several days ago, the day the party had left. After a stressful few weeks and a fateful cook-off, they’d finally had a chance to relax. The four had made the best of it.

When they finally ran out of time on the islands, Arek had made sure to stock up on as many ingredients as possible. The others had all bought a few things from the various merchants around the city as well.

Malissa purchased some cooking utensils, Belmont got his hands on a new magic book to study, and Ming spent all of her allowance on food.

“I’ll eat them hard. Chewing is for cowards.” Ming threw a snowball at him. Belmont whistled and a translucent pink shield plate formed between Arek and the projectile, blocking it before it could strike the orc.

“If you bother Arek, he’ll only work slower,” Belmont reprimanded. “Just settle down for –”

A snowball caught him on the back of the head, cutting him off midsentence. Belmont spun to glare at Malissa, who crossed her arms behind her back and stared off into the distance, pretending to whistle.

“This isn’t even dinner,” Arek reminded them. “Malissa is going to be doing that. She’s been practicing something every day since we left the Floating Islands, you know.”

Another snowball sailed through the air and their campsite quickly dissolved into a warzone. Arek chuckled and unhooked a large clay jug from the side of his bag. He undid the rope at the top, taking off the cover to reveal tanned, circular beans floating in water.

He poured the water out into the snow, keeping the beans from falling out with his hand. Once it was mostly empty, Arek tossed the little tan spheres into his wok. They didn’t look particularly appetizing, but the merchant had assured him that the recipe tasted delicious.

Arek drew several vials of spices from his bandolier – many of them new – and started to shake them over the beans, tossing to ensure they were evenly coated. He took a whiff, then quickly regretted it when the hot powder assaulted his sensitive nose.

He sneezed, rubbing his nose off on the back of a sleeve and adding in some garlic powder to the mix. After one more toss, Arek poured in some oil and set the wok over the fire. A snowball sailed over his shoulder, narrowly missing him.

Ming and Malissa were locked in a dangerous dance of snow. They gave no regard for their surroundings as the projectiles flew around the campsite. Belmont had resorted to magic, blocking himself in with his bubble shield to avoid getting pelted.

It didn’t take long for the beans to start crackling as the heat fried them. Ming’s nose twitched and she paused mid-throw, catching a snowball to the face as a reward.

“Wait!” Ming yelled, diving to dodge Malissa’s next throw. “Truce. I smell food.”

“It’s not done yet,” Arek said. “You can continue trying to turn each other into snowmen.”

“Please don’t,” Belmont grumbled, allowing his shield to fade as he made his way back up to the campfire. “Although I suppose it’s good to get it out of our system soon. We’ll be in monster territory starting tomorrow.”

“How far is the city again?” Ming asked. “Camping is fun, but beds are nicer.”

“Betsy put us a week away from Seaside,” Malissa said. “We’ve been travelling for four days now, so there should just be three left. There’s a C rank dungeon right between us and the city, though. Given what’s been happening with the other dungeons, we’ll have to be careful when we pass it.”

“The Howlers have to put that little green orb of theirs in the dungeon for it to create a monster horde,” Belmont said. “It’s unlikely that they’ve got enough presence to arrange that this far north. They’ve still got to establish themselves in Riverfall, and I’m sure the Starpiercers have been causing them trouble after they lost the cookoff to stay in the Floating Cities. Still, caution would be wise.”

The beans crackled in the wok. Arek tossed them, getting an even coating as they started to dry, turning a golden brown. Warm, comforting scents rose up from the wok. Ming inched closer to the fire.

“Forget the Howlers,” Ming said, a subtle note of bitterness in her voice. “At least for a little. They aren’t here. As long as we aren’t at the city, I can still pretend like we’re on vacation.”

“Understandable,” Malissa said, brushing some snow from her shoulders and sitting down beside them. “What are these things anyways, Arek?”

“They’re called baby bird peas,” Arek replied. “They’re dried to transport them, so you have to soak them in water for a long time before they’re eaten. I’ve just coated them in some hot spices and garlic powder. They can be baked, but since I don’t have an oven, we’re frying them.”

“Well, they smell good,” Malissa said.

“They should be just about done,” Arek said, picking one up and popping it into his mouth. The spices flooded across his tastebuds, a mixture of smokey and spice with just a dash of pungent kick from the garlic. It was light and airy, with just enough crunch to be satisfying. “Yep. They’re good.”

Arek pulled the wok off the heat and distributed the snack amongst the party. Once they’d all gotten some, he raised his water skin in a toast. “To our continued success.”

“And to nice and boring travels,” Belmont added as everyone raised their own water skins.

They huddled closer to the fire, munching on the snack as the snow fell around them and the wood crackled merrily.