Apostle of the Sleeping Gods

by Dan Sugralinov

  If she had any hopes of a budding romance, they didn’t come to fruition. And good. Because going behind Tissa’s back was... Not my style, and the girls would have gotten mad if I refused one of them. Thankfully, the way it played out resolved things without anyone getting their feelings hurt.

  I didn’t really get any sleep. Around morning, people started buzzing under our window and we heard the musicians doing soundchecks on stage. Some people on the other side of the wall were making a lot of noise. What exactly they were doing I could not say, but I had my guesses.

  Rita got up first. Trying not to make noise, she left my room and went to hers.

  Alone for the first time in a day, I cleaned myself up a bit and started getting ready to go back home. I was contractually obligated by Snowstorm to spend lots of time in Dis, so I couldn’t really afford to stay. Plus, I wanted to visit the guys and compete in the cooking tournament. I didn’t think I could take home a win, but I also didn’t want to leave Arno hanging. And of course, I was interested in spending some time outside the sandbox.

  As badly as Rita and Karina wanted me to stay until evening, I was gone by lunchtime. And I went home on autopilot, sleeping the whole way.

  I called up Tissa. Her voice sounded almost normal and definitely much livelier than yesterday. Her fever was gone, her temperature back to normal and she clearly felt better.

  “They still haven’t found anything,” she said. “They said they’re gonna observe me until morning and, if everything is fine, they’ll discharge me. I’ll call you as soon as it happens. How was the festival? Party hard?”

  “It was a good time, but I didn’t cross any lines, so don’t worry.”

  “Alex! Come on!” Tissa objected, but her voice sounded happy. So I wasn’t surprised when she added: “Alright, I believe you. What are your plans?”

  I told her about the cooking tournament and Tissa said I would have to be sure and join the guild, because there were special recipes only members could buy. We talked a bit longer about little things and said goodbye.

  I ate lunch with my parents, told them all about Glastonbury then reluctantly crawled into my pod. I was still too tired, but I had to make up for the time I missed yesterday.

  But as soon as I found myself in the midst of the majestic Nameless Mountains near the Olton Quarries, I was reenergized. A brisk breeze was wafting down from the snowcapped peaks, carrying the aroma of mountain herbs and fir trees. And that invigorated me, so I no longer felt sleepy.

  With a big breath in, I stretched my arms. I wanted to take in all this incredible beauty. Even the shadows were so realistic I had no doubt that this place was real.

  The tournament was starting in less than ten minutes. I opened the invitation letter, chuckled again as I smelled the roast meat, and activated the portal sticker.

  The world flickered momentarily.

  * * *

  “Ah, here’s Scyth!” I heard. “Hey, Bob, tell the chef our last competitor has arrived.”

  A thickset bearded old man walked up to me and gave me a firm handshake. His huge shovel of a hand engulfed mine completely, then I realized he was a dwarf! I’d seen other dwarves in Tristad, but never spoken to one. It was a human city and other Commonwealth races were generally only passing through.

  “Welcome Scyth!” he addressed me. “I am Master Romm, I assist Madame Bloomfie in hosting the cooking tournament. How was the trip here?”

  “Faster than the blink of an eye...”

  “Yeah?” Romm frowned. “You didn’t even taste anything?”

  “No. I activated the portal in the invitation and was transported here instantly. What of it?”

  “Bob!” the Dwarf barked, turning. “What the crap is this? Why didn’t the kid get any effects? Why was he transported instantly? Are their brains really that soaked in ale?” He turned back to me: “Sorry, Scyth. We paid a bunch of money to provide our guests with luxury transport! The idea was for the teleportation process to last around three seconds, during which time you would taste one of our greatest culinary masterpieces. I don’t know exactly what you missed; it was supposed to be different every time. You sure you didn’t taste anything? Yeah? Alright. Follow me.”

  He led me into a small assembly room where the others were already waiting. They were all high-level players without exception. I saw nobody below level one hundred, and I also didn’t see Arno who was probably handling his affairs with the guild.

  Romm set me in a vacant chair on the edge, patted me on the shoulder and walked away.

  “So then, all contestants are accounted for!” declared the tall elven woman on the low stage.

  Would it be too corny to mention that her beauty had me smitten? Well, it did. Even her voice sounded melodic and youthful. I couldn’t get enough.

  “Let me introduce myself for those who don’t know me. My name is Unifelda, deputy head of the chefs’ guild. Our organization has existed ever since the first intelligent creatures learned to use fire and we’ve been holding this tournament just about as long. For the last one hundred and four years, all cooking matches have been broadcast via magivision, which we’re confident will continue at least another two hundred. Recently, we signed a contract with the magivisors’ guild extending our contract for exactly that term. Our tournaments enjoy great popularity!”

  All the players clapped in approval. Seemingly, all of them lived by their trade and were personally invested in the guild’s success. I felt like a mere upstart, an odd man out.

  “Even our fast-paced weekly tournaments have a huge number of devotees,” Unifelda continued. “So for that reason, you won’t all be taking part in today’s tournament. It would simply take too long. So now we’re going to do a quick selection round, a test of your expertise. I’ll ask some questions and the first to give a correct answer will be awarded one point. After the quiz, we’ll tally up the results and announce our participants.”

  Nobody was surprised. This must have been what happened every Sunday. I arrived at a clear understanding that I had zero chance. The guys’ mysterious illness, my trip to the rock festival and staying up all night with the girls had taken their toll. Without a single thought in my head, I had forgotten to even take ingredients with me. I was planning to grab a stack from Bomber, but my slots were full, then he was hospitalized.

  “Nether!” I thought. “I could have farmed up resources in the Mire, unloading the quest items and Respawn Stone into my personal chest.”

  “What is the key ingredient in Osceola Spicy Soup?” while I berated myself, Unifelda asked the first question.

  “Dried Bison Meat!” a voice quickly called out from the first row.

  I got up and saw the forehead of a halfling. Woah, a real live hobbit!

  “Correct! One point to Jenkins. Next question: how much Burning Pepper is used to make Snails in Garlic Sauce?”

  “None!” a couple quipped out. “That dish uses blue pepper, not burning pepper!”

  “One point to Bari!” The shouts of outrage didn’t bother the elven lady. “He answered first. Next question...”

  I lost count of the questions. They were getting harder and correct answers were starting to be worth more points. The magic scoreboard hovering behind Unifelda showed that Jenkins the hobbit and Bari the fat gnome had distinguished themselves many times. And there was a gray-haired man named Oliver nipping at their heels. Everyone else was hopelessly behind. At the end of the list were a few names, including mine, with zero points.

  I suddenly heard a familiar combination of words:

  “... filet of swamp bighead with onion and herbs?”

  I didn’t hear the whole question but I figured it out based on the guesses.

  “Resistance to poison?”

  “Increased endurance?”

  “Poisoning?”

  “Swamp aura?”

  The guesses kept coming, but were growing more tentative. Two wrong answers in a row earned a docked point. They must have been talking about
the effects of the dish. I raised my hand and said distinctly:

  “Marinated filet of swamp bighead with onion and herbs gives the following bonus: plus ten to highest main attribute for three hours.”

  “Excellent!” Unifelda was delighted. “In depth and flawlessly accurate! Five points to Scyth!”

  “Who?” “Where’d that noob come from?” “What even is that dish?” “Who’s got the recipe?” questions rained down from the contestants. Everyone in the room was staring at me and, not knowing what to do, I started counting the letters and numbers on the scoreboard. Arno came out of nowhere and saved the situation.

  He trumpeted like an injured elephant and started shaking me by the shoulders. They hushed him and Arno fell silent. I looked around. The audience was crowding up at the assembly room doors. And there, chest puffed out in pride, stood the chef of the Bubbling Flagon.

  “And at that, the selection round is complete!” Unifelda declared. “So then, the following contestants will make it through to the main Sunday tournament: Jenkins, Bari, Oliver...”

  Arno was rooting for me more than I was: he had his big fists clenched, his teeth were chattering and he was holding his breath. And so, when my name was said last, he was unable to hold back.

  “Not so fast, Mr. Arno.” I squirmed out of his embrace. “As luck would have it, I didn’t bring any ingredients. I have nothing to cook!”

  Mr. Arno looked crushed. A wrinkle ran across his forehead. Then his face beamed with an ear to ear smile.

  “No biggie, Scyth!” he exclaimed. “The very fact you made it to the tournament is enough to get you into the guild! You would like to join the guild, right?”

  “Absolutely.” I smiled. “But what to cook? I mean, I can’t...”

  “You can think something up. Just by coincidence,” he winked, “I brought some supplies from the kitchen. Fish, meat, vegetables, fruit. And I won’t even mention the spices and seasonings. I’ve always got them on me. With your imagination, I bet you can think something up, right...?”

  * * *

  The main tournament was held in a huge kitchen with a few dozen ovens, stoves and tables. And the organizers provided a ton of ingredients. Just in the wild game section I counted thirty different types of meat. But they were all widespread and well-known, so it seemed impossible to invent a new dish.

  The magivisors had placed Eyes of Egeria over each contestant, magic balls that transmitted everything they saw to a central magic tower, which then broadcasted that to the owners of enchanted Balls of Egeria.

  Basically, recognizing the societal importance and influence of mass media, Snowstorm had made their own versions of various technological methods of data transmission. Instead of comms, there were signal amulets. Instead of radios, there were divine notifications. And in the same way, instead of huge televisions, there were Balls of Egeria. They were relatively cheap, but not permitted in sandboxes.

  We were randomly split into groups of two, from which the jury would choose one to go up against all the other winners.

  Every contestant had to prepare a dish of their own invention. The jury then would judge them based on a few categories: “flavor,” “beneficial effects,” “uniqueness,” and “sophistication.” And though the first three criteria were all easy enough to understand, the last one threw me for a loop. What could they have meant by that? Obviously, I knew the word, but how did the game mechanics convey sophistication?

  Arno helped me with a recipe, laying out a pile of fish and game, vegetables, fruit and herbs from Tristad market on my cutting table. He placed the jars of seasonings separately. The host of the cooking show was the very same Unifelda. After an opening speech for the audience, she emphasized that the dishes had to be new or at least original. After that, she introduced the contestants and finally announced:

  “You will face off in groups of two, determined completely at random! Grandmaster Jenkins versus Artisan Fleas, Master Bari versus Master Silka, Grandmaster Nobu versus Master Kima...” It took her some time to get through the list. “And finally, Grandmaster Oliver versus Expert Scyth,” she said with a chuckle, followed by many others. “Begin!”

  Someone banged a gong. I quickly looked around: everyone started cooking immediately, again giving me the impression I didn’t belong there. They all had their ingredients ready to go and were confidently executing a plan. Only I was standing around looking like an oblivious dumbass.

  Oliver was sitting at a table opposite me. He winked and smiled with his mustache, nodding at my ingredients. They didn’t look quite as luxuriant as the ones my opponent was neatly unpacking. Tidy bunches of herbs, appetizing pieces of meat including a very expensive glossy filet of Cimmerian Boar, pristine little chives, vials of seasonings, jars of grain... And when he took out his epic knife and cookware set, made of enchanted blue steel, even Arno gasped in envy:

  “Unbelievable! That guy must really know what he’s doing!”

  Melancholically sorting through fish, I tossed a gaze over Oliver’s equipment. Everything, from his chef’s hat and apron to the pots and pans, gave bonuses to trade level. And his cookware sped up cooking time and reduced the risk of messing up a dish.

  Among the fish, I saw many Stone Grabbers, which gave off a strong odor of fresh cucumbers. Their big grinning mouths and lean bony bodies seemed impossible to make into anything tasty, so I started with them. No harm in trying.

  I put the default pot from the organizers on the stove to heat up then grabbed my Deb’s Universal Knife. The description said that it was good for practically any task involving fish, and cleaning them with it improved the chance of the dish giving extra bonuses. It and a few other chef’s tools, not quite as good as Oliver’s, were handed out to everyone.

  “Experiment, apprentice!” shouted Arno, standing along the wall with the audience.

  So I started to experiment. We were given one hour and, in that time, I managed to screw up almost every ingredient. I fried and grilled meat, tried to make some kind of soup or stew from the fish, added vegetables, marinated in vinegar, combined the incompatible... But it was all in vain. Everything I made was either a known dish or inedible garbage. As for the Stone Grabbers, without a recipe, I couldn’t turn them into anything worth eating.

  Honestly, I did accidentally invent one nonsensical dish by the name of Miner’s Fish Soup when, in desperation, I threw a shot of elven brandy into a bubbling pot of roast grabber and lentils. +1 strength, -1 strength. How such a thing was even possible I had no idea but, by the looks of things, the system generated a dish’s properties by blindly taking one parameter from each ingredient. I set the Miner’s Fish Soup aside, deciding to put it up only if I couldn’t make anything better.

  Then I stopped flailing, cleaned the spoiled food out of my cookware and took a minute to think. I had a breakthrough.

  Oliver had already finished his dish and was having a lively discussion with Jenkins. The two pros were looking at me and laughing.

  I waved at them. They both looked surprised. The halfling said something and they burst into laughter.

  “Yeah, to the nether with both of them,” I thought. “I wasn’t planning to win, but I refuse to lose this badly!” My only regret was that I didn’t have any Swamp Bighead. It may have been thin gruel, but it was a unique dish!

  Calmer, my logic and subconscious memory flipped on. I had often seen people cooking in street carts and my mom could work real magic at the stove on occasion. Following my intuition, I put some flour in a bowl, mixed in some salt and pepper, then cleaned my last couple grabbers, removing only the guts. I left on the thin skin and scales. Next I filled the fish with chopped herbs, covered them in seasonings, dipped them in the flour mix and tossed them into some bubbling oil. I waited a couple seconds and turned them over.

  It worked!

  Attempt to create a new dish!

  Success! You have created a new cooking recipe: Fried Spicy Stone Grabber, Stuffed with Herbs!

  Experience poi
nts received for new cooking recipe: +100.

  You have prepared Fried Spicy Stone Grabber, Stuffed with Herbs.

  Fried spicy stone grabber, stuffed with herbs (1) cannot be added to your inventory!

  Not enough room in bag!

  Fried Spicy Stone Grabber, Stuffed with Herbs

  Epic recipe

  Ingredients: cleaned stone grabber, flour, vegetable oil, salt, black pepper, marjoram, dill, parsley, rosemary, caraway.

  The predatory carnivorous stone grabber is found in fast-moving mountain rivers with exceptionally clean water. That gives its tender meat strong magical properties when properly prepared. Scyth, the inventor of this dish, came up with it during a Commonwealth Chefs’ Guild tournament.