I stood dumbfounded outside the fisherman’s cabin and thought about what I had just heard or what I thought I just heard. Solicitors probably existed in every world - but specifically branded towels I did not think would have. Between that and the surfboard in an otherwise medieval-looking village, I assumed Gerald the Pelikvern’s owner had something going on with them.

With a gesture to my monsters, I signaled to a silent order to ‘stay’. Then I stepped closer to the small seafoam green-colored building.

“Hey, you heard me! I’m here on official business - Gerald stole a whole basket of bread, and it isn’t the first time he’s done it!”

“Ugh, fine. But I’m not buying anyth-!” came from the voice - or started to, with the ‘thing’ in anything simply dropping into silence and being soon followed by a wheeze.

I then took a step closer, followed by another, and stopped at the front door, giving it a rap of my knuckles.

“I am coming in. Don’t attack me, got it?” I waited for a minute after saying it, and knocking and then stepped over the threshold.

The inside of the fisherman’s cabin was well kept aside from the cooking area and the area immediately around the bed within the main room. Along the dividing line of the kitchen and the main room was a small round hardwood table with a hand-crafted-looking pair of chairs. Around the fireplace and hearth, a sizable number of cookware and dishes were stacked and not with the dexterity I’d expect for a human.

Around the bed itself, there were several buckets and Gerald the Pelikvern, who was insistently putting bread on the person lying in the bed and rolling it up, as if trying to urge him to eat it.

The guy lying in the bed did not look well; I wasn’t sure what he had from the looks of it but I didn’t come closer either. I thought to myself it was a shame I couldn’t figure out more from afar, and then realized the thing I was forgetting.

I could analyze people, too. Maybe that would work? I stared at the bedridden man as he coughed violently and focused on the word and mental command; ‘analyze’. It took directly staring at him for a moment, but I was soon rewarded with a prompt.

“Captain Jose Porter – Class: Fisherman.”

That was underwhelming, I almost complained - before realizing that there was a red bar under the name and title hovering over his body. It only took intuition to realize that it was health. He was sick, but it was not something that would kill me.

“So, explain yourself. Why is Gerald acting like he is?”

“Because he’s a worry-filled duck in the shape of a Pelikvern. He’s one of my long-time partners..” he hacked for a bit before continuing. “And didn’t listen when I said just leave me be, the sink works and I can get fresh water from it. Just gotta stay hydrated.”

It was then I noticed the basket of bread on the floor near the bed. Most of it was still there.

“He’s tried feeding me raw fish, hard candies, and so so much bread. He doesn’t realize I won’t automatically feel better from what he enjoys eating. Wouldn’t even let any other people get near me either and I couldn’t reach his reliquary; so couldn’t get anyone to make me any soup. Not that they can make it right anyway. Cultural differences.”

I was silent, still not sure if I should bring down some sort of wrath on the leathery bird before deciding against it. It was just trying to take care of its master, and it would probably continue committing crimes until he was better.

He was a good bird, I decided and let out a nod while thanking the fact I hadn’t ended up attacking Gerald at the Tipsy Tauracean complex and ended up following him instead. This guy needed help. I looked back outside, and after evaluating the ingredients that made up the contents of the wheelbarrow, I blinked.

“You try some chicken noodle soup?” I asked, having noticed the orange carrots, the celery stalks, wrapped chicken, and dried pasta which looked like long macaroni. There were potatoes too, and in my head I had a solution whirring.

“You say it like you know, kid.”

“I have never got a complaint. Everyone knows homemade beats store brand.” I countered, I was proud of my chicken noodle soup! While those macaroni worthy of being Yankee Doodle’s feathers were not anything like egg noodles I didn’t plan to use them either. Besides, if picky toddlers had given it five stars, a picky fisherman might as well. I had been a short order cook and prep cook in a diner for several years before dating my wife; so I had basics some others didn’t have.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

So I got to work, gathering cookware and beginning to clean them to the melody of Jose’s protestations and Pelikvern’s calls. Before the overgrown pelican pretending to be a pterodactyl could get close though, I let out a mental command, “Come here, Baloo, Bagheera.”

The Cerbearus and the Ossicarn both charged in and circled, practically challenging the Pelikvern to make a move.

“Gerald, just get out and let him do what he’s doing. Wait by your pile of fish,” ordered Jose as he saw the fact my monsters would fight his own. He was silent after that, aside from coughing.

When I was done cleaning pots, a bowl, and utensils I began using the small countertop that Jose’s cottage had to hold its cutting board. In between preparing the vegetables with chopping and peeling, I gathered a pot full of water and firewood. After setting up the firewood I gave Bagheera a command to light the fire and it sat there pawing at the wood until it ignited.

“Good to know. Your paws are literally flammable.” I commented before installing the pot over the fire and its stove and putting the whole chicken into the water with what my brain equated to a frying basket - probably for fish. I let it sit there until the chicken looked mostly cooked and then pulled it out to remove the bones and put them back in the basket to make better broth. The meat I chopped into bite-sized pieces alongside the vegetables, and after letting the broth cook for an hour in silence I removed the basket and added in all the chopped ingredients. With seasonings chosen from Jose’s small assortment, I finished the prep and waited, only breaking my solemn silence to add another log to the fire for temperature control and to stir it to prevent sticking to the pot.

Over the course of my cooking, Bagheera the ossicarn circled me, and Baloo the Cerbearus stood on its haunches in its best impersonation of a bouncer. Several times, he let out a little growl as Gerald the Pelikvern popped its huge head in to investigate.

When it thickened and thoroughly cooked, I used one of Jose’s ladles and dug out a serving-sized amount in a bowl.

Immediately I was prompted with an information prompt, and it was enough to almost make me jump in surprise.

“You have successfully created a ‘Chicken Potato Soup’. You have gained one skill point in cooking. Five experience points for your first successful creation of a new recipe: Chicken Potato Soup.”

One skill point? I was offended! But I stopped myself from getting worked up, instead heading over to Jose to offer the man the bowl of soup and a spoon. I knew when I unlocked the ability to meditate I would be able to actually try to convey my old-world skills in some way into skills in Hekatondrona.

Either way, this time Jose didn’t complain. He was silent as he took in the soup, and to my surprise kept up the silence over the course of the next half hour, while he ate two more bowls of soup.

He seemed immediately better in some ways, and by the time the third bowl was finished, and he was moving out of bed I had another prompt appear.

It read:

“You have successfully healed Captain Jose Porter of his illness. Congratulations! Non-violent, healing path rewards granted!

Rewards: Forty Experience Points

Items: One uncommon reliquary (scrimshaw), and one random technique manual.

Recipe: Chicken Potato Soup.

Skills: One skill point in short blades. One skill point in cooking.

Traits: Porter & Pelikvern’s Pal – While in the Tidewarren and Highwater regions, you may utilize a special whistle to summon Gerald the Pelikvern to provide messenger and delivery services from yourself to others.

Tipsy Tauracean Tavern Cheer – You are now a favored customer of Tipsy Tauracean Tavern and receive a discount and other services and aid from the Tipsy Tauracean Tavern and its subsidiaries. “

As soon as I closed the prompt I found my backpack getting heavier and also saw another prompt appear.

“Achievement: ‘Fisher, Butcher, Baker, Candle-stick maker’ partially unlocked. You have assisted the bakers and fishers of Strongbridge. Assist the Butchers and Candle-stick Makers to complete the achievement.”

This was getting out of control. “So, Jose, you feeling better or is the system just playing pranks?”

“Yeah, I do. Thanks, kid.” Then he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “You Charlie’s new Outworlder kid, he sent you here to check in on me?”

“I am the new outworlder, yeah, but he didn’t send me. I came on my own. Got a quest.”

“Ah.” he only got more awkward about it. “Okay. Well, if you’re done and not on official business, get out. I’ve got stuff to get ready so I can go start making amends to the town over Gerald’s shenanigans.”

I went over to the basket of bread and hoisted it, turning to go but didn’t leave without looking at him. “You’re an outworlder too?”

“Ayup. Sure am, and have known Charlie a long time - but I don’t like talking about it more than that. But it’s crazy you ask, did you think that anyone born here would just have a surfboard?”

I shrugged and left. After returning the basket and wheelbarrow, maybe it was time to head back up the hill and ask Charlie about this other fellow in town who was an outworlder.