V-35 Volunteer (II)

So the first thing you should do when dealing with the Fairest is leave your sanity at the door. Don't just leave it at the door, actually. Smash your sanity in the head and bury it because the fae don't make any sense, at least not any kind of human sense. They don't follow the standard rules, which standard rules you might ask, all of them. They don't have consistent levels. They jump Tiers all the time depending on if they had a cup of tea, if it's morning, evening, or afternoon. Or maybe just that they feel like it.

They're capricious. Unpredictable, but they aren't made out of nonsense. No, they're more bound to the system's laws and the rules of the narrative than we are. You see, the fae are a bit like characters from the story. And if they deviate too much from the rules of their story, they suffer for it. They lose power and in the worst cases they can be unmade all together. I've seen fae suddenly wink out of existence after destroying a team of Master-Tier Pathbearers just because someone complimented their dress sense, and they smiled instead of simply glaring hatefully. I've also seen fae go from being pitifully weak to absolutely unbeatable Within their specific domains.

Oh, yeah, they have domains too, like gods. We had a fae called Treemocker join us for a while. She was absolutely useless, complained about everything. Refused to ever clean up after herself, made some of the worst foods You would ever have the displeasure of tasting, but none of that mattered because it turned out Treemocker was a princess from the court of summer. Now that might not mean much to you, but it does to her and Functionally if anyone harms any bit of vegetation in her presence She goes Legendary for about 10 seconds. For 10 seconds, She is nature incarnate. For 10 seconds the earth roars the forest rises to obey her every whim, the heavens fall, and you are absolutely felling doomed.

After those 10 seconds are over. She's simply a large-eyed child who complains about being hungry and wanting a new dress.

Yeah, I miss that annoying brat. Hope she's still having fun wherever she is. but that's the point. the fey, you want to figure out their individual rules and understand them to be the characters from the story and If you think that you're going to be able to out fight them casually, well, I got bad news for you.

Most fey don't work like people. You can't kill them by beheading them. You can't kill them just by beating them up. There are narrative rules. You better figure them out. And for the love of the Ascendants, don't eat anything the fairies offer you. Even their food is alive, and they can do pretty horrible things through this person's digestive tract If they wake up inside you. Hells, they’ll do worse than that…

-Memoirs of a Master-Tier War Mage

V-35

Volunteer (II)

Despite Shiv's Psycho-Cartography begging him to run, he didn't. He stayed in place. Even though this felt like a fever dream, he was also captured by morbid fascination. Just thinking about awakened bread seizing a kitchen from a group sounded like a bad joke to Shiv. Yet, it was happening here, and the one who told him that was a lizard-man that Shiv didn't even know the race of. 

The Deathless's curiosity prevailed over his rationality, and so he stayed, if only to see how this whole thing would end.

"How high is your stealth skill?" the Velly asked. His lizard eyes dilated, and at their center they glimmered with Pyromancy. The rest of his clothes were in tatters. Patches of soot ran along the white linen, and there was also a faint stench of burning charcoal. And then there was the head chef's tail. It was partially artificial. The tip resembled an eggbeater, and more than that, it pulsated with a faint glint of dimensionality, sparkles of static leaking off its contours. Twin spatulas, coated in grease and pulsating with waves of Pyromancy, drew Shiv's attention next. They hung from the head chef's hip, and they whispered to the Deathless, begging him to take them.

They glowed with The Chef Unwavering, and they moaned for his touch. “We should belong to a proper chef…”

Psycho-Cartography: Stop looking at them. That’s an enchantment. A social enchantment for a pair of spatulas. What is up with this guy.

Shiv shook his head, trying to pull away from his greed. Before Shiv could fully master himself, however, the head chef held up a clawed hand. "No! Stop! Don't say anything!"

Before Shiv could ask what was going on, Velly spun. One of his spatulas came free of his hip and settled in his grasp. He swung down, and a clash of mana swelled through the air. A burst sent Shiv stumbling back. It was a powerful blast. It was a blast that included hues of fire magic and a strange boiling orange glow that he'd never seen before.

"Back!" Velly cried aloud. "Back to the Faebread that spawned you!"

He struck out again, and this time Shiv did see what he was attacking. They were crumbs. The deathless eyes widened as his Farsight narrowed in, zooming closer and closer to the faint particulates swaying in the air. They were just little bits of debris, each one a pale speck. But he knew that texture, more importantly, he could smell the scent in the air. The simmering orange manna radiated out from each of the specks, but with another surge of Pyromancy, the grains of bread were completely dissolved.

Farsight 83 > 84

"Back!" Velly cried one final time, then there were but blackened embers and nothing at all.

Shiv looked on as Velly swept his head about. He was trying to see if there were any other food grains in the air, but the Deathless found his own skill more useful. The Chef Unwavering activated, and there were a few scintillating dots in the corner of the chamber. He leaned in closer to the head chef, and he quickly pointed at the crumbs he discovered.

"What? What are you-" And suddenly, Velly understood what Shiv was doing. "Ah, good eye, Commis. You have good potential."

Then there came even more crumbs, and Shiv followed them to an open vent lining the upper portion of the ceiling. The air filtration system, they were passing the crumbs out from that.

"Damnation!" the lizard-man hissed. "We must move, we cannot stay here any longer. I'd hoped that we would have more time to prepare, but it seems that the Faebread are making their next play. We cannot reveal our intentions in the open. Come. We move!"

And suddenly Velly was sprinting, and Shiv followed along a second later. They moved away from the door, and as they proceeded toward the restaurant proper, Shiv saw around 50 vitality signatures spread out before him. A frosted set of doors with coiling serpents greeted Shiv, and it was shoved open as Velly rushed through.

On the other side, Shiv beheld the inner section of the monster mystery meat for the first time. It didn't resemble any kind of restaurant he'd ever been in before. Instead, it reminded him of a dragon's hoard; the kind one would see in a story. The space was vast and uneven, and with the mana crashing against Shiv's shapeless tides, he knew a dimensionality spell had to be active, making this place larger on the inside than it was on the outside.

Despite the crisis unfolding, the guests at Monster Mystery Meat remained seated, and they even seemed quite placid. Most of them were well-dressed, others were clad in dense plates of armor, and some wore long flowing robes that belied their riches, but they couldn't hide just how powerful their magical skills were. That was probably why most of the Pathbearers here remained indifferent. They were powerful, and more importantly, this entire thing seemed like entertainment to them, much as it did for Shiv.

Almost immediately, the deathless took in the clientele. His instincts howled for him to be careful. Battle-scarred vanguards, mighty mages, and subtle shadows sat at the stained table chatting away and drinking sips from glasses filled with brilliant crimson fluid. Also placed before them were an assortment of varied meals. Shiv saw the fried remains of some manner of spider, larger than most people's heads, but with a brown layer of crisp fried skin. Other tables were gifted with some kind of hog/insect hybrid. People reached out and ripped pieces of chitin away from the strange creature, and they ate it as if finger food, crunching the pieces within their mouths.

There was even a table that had people eating what looked like a dismembered, flash-fried orc. The cooked gray-skinned brute lay upon the table with an apple in his mouth, and smoke rose from his body, filling the air with a foul, gamey stench.

Okay, Shiv stared. Not sure if that’s healthy or tasty, but they’re really digging into those arms and legs.

Shiv swept his surroundings using his Biomancy field. He moved all of his Mana Hydras in tandem, trying to see if there was anything hidden from him. As he did that, the myriad meals flared across his Biomancy, filling his Aegis of Assimilation with new microspells—Microspells he couldn't comprehend. Organic compounds and structures he'd never encountered before. 

They weren't kidding about the mystery meat, Shiv thought to himself.

At the same time, he realized the tables were carved from bone. Not just any bone, but it seemed that they were made from monster bones. A few were stolen directly from dragons. Shiv had faced the winged behemoths more times than he could count by this point, and he knew what their bones felt like—especially when they broke. Some of the other tables glinted and were covered in flowing scales. Scales harvested from a hydra. Those tables were still technically alive, constantly regenerating. More, they were connected to something underground that constantly fed them nutrition, allowing them to sustain their existence.

As Shiv looked up, he saw the sprawling body of a long-dead hydra serve as the lighting for the first-floor of the restaurant. And it was a magnificently massive hydra that 12 heads stretched across 500 meters of space, and each one was pointed down. Flames burned within their sockets, casting a brilliant glow upon the space below. It also added a warm but not overwhelmingly sweltering atmosphere. This place was somewhere Shiv could easily enjoy a nap in. And that filled him with ease.

"Esteemed guests," Velly cried aloud, holding his hands high. "We will see the Faebread brought low! Behold, our new commis, sent from Phoneix Academy as aid. It seems that there is still a spirit of bravery and boldness amongst the young!”

“COMMIS”! The customers cheered.

“Holy fuck, there is someone stupid enough to come,” a broad-shouldered goblin woman laughed. She made a snorting noise and pulled her bonnet from her head. Across the table, an automaton sighed and cucked a few mithril coins her way. “Yeah! Won the bet! Give it to mama!”

The lizard man gestured, introducing Shiv, and all the guests began to clap. Some cheering was half-hearted, and the deathless heard a few warriors exchanging bets, asking how long this one might last, and if there was going to be anything left of him to bury.

"I apologize for the long wait," Velly continued, "But it is hunger that deepens the palate, and it is denial and struggle that makes the ingredients ever more savory. We will prevail. We will feast. And today, we will know what living bread, dreaming bread, bread of the Fairwilds will feel like when they melt upon the tips of our tongues."

And a chorus of triumph and jubilation went up amongst the guests.

"You're the best, Velly," a tall, muscular elf called. This one wasn't even wearing armor. In fact, he wasn't wearing much of anything at all. His torso was bare and a map of scar tissue. However, each of his scars glowed with pulsing waves of Dynamancy, and the crystalline bands running along his arm looked expensive.

A seat away, a raven-haired woman wearing a long, pointed cap smiled appreciatively at the lizard chef. Shiv guessed she was a mage, but staring at her filled his gut with strange churning emotions.

Psycho-Cartography: That's another charm skill, probably something related to seduction. Look away before you have a problem. We need to get better at resisting social skills—I need to evolve. It’s one of the few remaining things we’re entirely weak to.

A mechanical groan followed, and the sound of a hammer striking the wooden tiles of the floor came thereafter. A huge automaton resembling a cobbled mass of scrap metal shaped into the general likeness of a person and sporting a fist for the head called out to Velly. "Are you sure you do not need my aid, Hero-Chef. I am willing. I will serve.”

Velly turned and held up a fist of his own, saluting the automaton. "Your good intentions are received, Thagar, but you are a customer, and customers should not burden themselves in a kitchen. That is my duty, mine, and my staff's."

As Velly continued exchanging words with the customers, Shiv looked up and a faint, pale sparkle caught his attention. More crumbs were gliding through the air. The Chef Unwavering, revealed their position, and the Deathless frowned. He sped up, approaching the head chef from behind.

"They're in here too," Shiv whispered. He pointed, and Velly followed his index finger, detecting the crumbs as well.

The head chef clenched his serrated teeth together. Teeth meant to rend and tear subtle flesh. "Damnation. They will likely make a move on the customers soon. That will not be acceptable. Come, Commis, let me show you your colleagues, the ones that remain uncaptured."

The head chef led Shiv down a massive tunnel, wide enough for a dragon to squeeze itself along. As they walked here, their footsteps echoed, and soon they found themselves going up a slope.

"How much does it cost to run a place like this?" Shiv asked. "Because the amount of dimensionality to expand the space inside, that must be a fortune."

"Fortunes are relative, but flavors delight in memories. That is the true wealth. Bad is what people will remember," Velly declared.

Psycho-Cartography: He's playing up a sense of bravado. He's trying to perform for us. Listen carefully to his words. It's all reflex, rote.

Shiv noticed that he wondered what the hell Velly even was. Before today, he hadn't seen any lizard men before, and now at monster mystery meet, he saw two on the outside, but they sported wings and wore bronze harnesses. Velly seemed lizard-like too, but he was of a different kind altogether. He had clawed talons, bent legs, and his face had more of a bird-like look to it. He even sported a beak and feathers along certain sections of his body instead of pure scales.

The tunnel curved, and soon Shiv found himself walking past a set of colossal doors. The doors were carved in the shape of a dragon's roaring face, and on the other side, he saw two life force signatures glimmering in wait. They were far along the path, but Shiv smelled cooking oil lingering in the air. Billowing waves of coldness struck him, and the Deathless realized he was in some kind of freezer. As they passed through into the next room, he looked to his left and right and saw vaults running up along the walls, slotted in place along massive belts that seemed capable of movement. Massive vaults with specific ingredients listed inside.

Holy shit, how much money do these people? This place is some kind of… Food dungeon.

"Cryogenically frozen incubi?" Shiv muttered.

"It is the best way to preserve and contain an incubus," Velly declared. "For even sedated, an incubus can dream, and a dreaming incubus is a dangerous adversary."

Right next to that vault was one listed for cave biters. It looked large enough to fit a full cave biter. But even then, Shiv wondered how they managed to shove a massive beast like that into a place like this. "These vaults come out of the walls?" Shiv looked up. He counted five vaults going vertical and approximately 15 horizontal.

The head chef replied, "More the dimensional, they require proper preservative measures. No two things are stored the same, and the more exotic the meat, the more stringent the demands."

As the Deathless looked about, his smile grew wider and wider.

"What even is this place?" Adam said. "I heard that Monster Mystery Meats was absurd, but well I just assumed those were rumors."

Shiv replied. "Yeah, well seems like some rumors don't live up to the truth."

Finally his eyes fell on a specific vault, and as he read what it contained, his smile vanished altogether. “Weaveress eggs…” Shiv muttered to himself.

"Is that?" Adam gasped.

And just then, Shiv felt the faintest presence of the Composer draw near in the back of his mind, crawling out from the Blessing she left within him. "No, how? How could her..." Lady Arachnae struggled with a few emotions and finally settled on anger. She said, "Cherished Hero of Weave, I have a demand. I know it might present you with difficulties, but I must see an injustice righted. That cannot be. That vault must be removed from this place. My children, my weavers and Weaveresses, are not to be food—not for the Bloodspawn, and not for the degenerate flavor-seekers on the surface.

Shiv kept his gaze locked to the weaver's egg vault. “See what I can do,” he replied.

To Shiv's surprise, what followed the Weaveress egg vault were whole orc corpses. The Deathless' eyes widened, and the Challenger simply laughed.

"You guys eat orc meat?" Shiv said, unsure how to process that. “I saw… back in the restaurant—”

"Certain customers have developed a preference for the grayskins. Customers that come from the South and harbor a special animosity toward the bestial creatures. Though an orc's flesh is lean and gamey, there is also a faint acidic scent that you can't quite find anywhere else. It is unique. It is sublime.”

"Huh," Shiv replied. "Never had orc before. I should try it sometime."

And there came nervous energy from Helix. "Insul, I must advise against that. We orcs, we're not exactly—"

"It's just curiosity," Shiv said. "And also—well, I have plenty of orcs, don't I? I—"

Helix gave a nervous groan.

"Don't worry, Helix, I don't need to eat all of you. Just take a chunk away. It could be good for my Biomancy lessons as well. I eat some of you, and I try to grow it back using my Biomancy. That’s pretty smart, isn’t it?"

“I—but…”

"No, you're probably the best," Shiv insisted. "After all, you're the one that can heal himself. And if I accidentally give you cancer, well, you know, you’re good for that too. Don't worry, Helix. It's a great honor. If I want fried orc, it’s you.”

The orc Biomancers stammered hopelessly, and Adam's mirth spilled over in a series of laughs. "Don't giggle at me, Gate Lord. He's planning to eat me. He's planning to eat me after seeing these demented savages use my people as ingredients. Why, you are outraged that the spider folk were getting eaten. Why not me?"

"Because you're orcs," Adam said flatly. "Because your kind probably cooks and eats humans all the time for whatever cruel delights you so desire.”

"That's different," Helix shut back. "We do it because it's cruel and vicious, and it psychologically damages you."

"And we can't do the same to you otherwise?" Adam shut back. "Do you want to eat an orc?"

The gate lord hesitated, and Shiv knew Adam had no interest in tasting an orc. But if it meant making Helix uncomfortable—

"There's a first time for everything, and there's a reason to try everything," Adam said resolutely.

Helix scoffed. "You're both just abusing me now. Ridiculous…"

“There’s just something about you when you whine, Helix,” Shiv said, trying to hide his grin.

"Chef," a low grumbling voice called out from ahead.

Shiv looked past Velly and saw a short, stocky figure standing before him. Behind him, a dimly lit room enwreathed in waves of pluming dust pilled into the ingredient chamber. The Deathless did a double-take as he realized the short, stocky figure was also entirely nude, covered in cooking oil, grease, and what appeared to be bits of bread speckled across his body.

“The fuck,” Shiv muttered, trying not to look down.

"Bowden," Velly greeted in return, utterly indifferent to the naked man. "How goes our attempt to breach the kitchen through the Wine Vault?"

"Not good, chef," Bowden said. "Not good at all. They fermented the walls. We can't get through, even with the drill. We managed to dig through the outer layer of wall, but now the drill itself has been disassembled, and we were forced to seal part of the wine vault to stop the bread from overrunning us."

Shiv snorted. It was just such a stupid thing to hear someone say; being overrun by bread was simply ridiculous.

The short, stocky human folded his arms and narrowed his eyes at Shiv, regarding him for the first time. His dense beard swayed in the air as he sneered at the new commis. "So, you are a volunteer, then? You don't look like much. You don't look like much at all. You barely look like you can pick up a weapon. Where are your muscles, boy? Where is your strength, your mana field?” He grimaced. “Chef. We have contract with that fool, Matlock and he sends us this—what good is this.”

Shiv was about to say something, and then the head of a skeletal mouse popped itself out from Bowden's dense beard. It wasn't just a skeletal mouse, however. It was infused with necromantic energy and gave a squeak. A second later, another mouse appeared, and then another. The Deathless's mind whirled. “Is… are those undead rats in your beard.” 

He gestured at Bowden's beard, but the short man seemed utterly indifferent. "Is this one simple as well?" Bowden complained. "No. There are no rats in my beard.” The rats kept glaring at Shiv, their Necromantic eyes glinting green in the light. “we need some people with mettle. We cannot just accept anyone that lout Matlock sends our way."

"The boy has potential and a keen eye. He saw some crumbs in the air in the lobby and in the restaurant itself… The bread have taken the filtration system and will compromise our air mana spells soon."

Bowden breathed, "This is... we don't have long then?"

"Yes," Velly replied, "not long at all, Grillmaster. We must prepare."

A piercing scream interrupted their conversation, and Shiv flinched. He looked past Bowden's body as a female elf emerged from the narrow passage behind him. She, too, was undressed and whorls of bright green mana decorated the expanse of her grease and cheese covered flesh. Her blue hair dripped with cooking oil, and she had a chain of baguettes hanging from her neck. Her eyes were like piercing emeralds, and though she regarded Shiv once, she looked away from him as if he was of no consequence. She held up a severed tongue in her left hand, and a dark expression lingered behind her eyes.

"They cut off Dylan's tongue and threw it through the gap. Our attempts at disguising ourselves as bread didn’t work.”

“Dylan!” Bowden whispered. “No… How… We need to go save him! I won’t leave my brother in that place, with those monsters! I won’t!”

Something inside Shiv’s mind popped as he nearly recoiled from her words. Disguise…  as bread…

Just then, another wail of agony came from the wine vault. The elf closed her eyes and the short, rat-bearded grillmaster couldn’t take anymore.

"No! Dylan!" Bowden wailed. He tried to throw himself at the passage, but Velly reached out, grabbing the short man from behind. At the same time, the mice in his beard leapt down and began pulling at his legs as well. Shiv stared on, and Bowden cried out roars of ragged rage. "Dylan! I’ll come for you! You Faebread pieces of shit! You let our people go.”

Laughter echoed from the distance, and a voice that sounded like a rising wind replied. “No, eater! I don’t think we will! In fact, he will go in the cauldron next. You wanted to taste us? Well, now we taste you…”

With that, Bowden began sobbing as well. He collapsed to the ground on his knees, and the undead rats hugged him. Velly soothed him from behind as well, running his clawed hand down the naked man's back. He made eye contact with Shiv, who just grunted uncomfortably.

A sigh came from Adam. "Shiv, what in the hells did you get us involved in?"

"I have no idea," Shiv said, "but I can't tell if I'm really, really entertained or if I really really want to leave."

"Chef," the elf said, her tone serious, her fists clenched. "We're running out of time. And not even to protect the rest of the restaurant. They are threatening to kill the rest of the staff. To peel them away bit by bit and boil them in the cauldron of many flavors if we do not negotiate our surrender and their passage back to the Fairwoods."

"Out of the question," Velly said, "They are part of the food group today. The appetizer must be delivered. Our word is adamantine.”

"But chef!" the elf hissed. "We cannot even hold our own kitchen, they're mutilating our people! What worth is our word when we are little more than bloodied meat! Our obligation—"

"They knew what they signed on for," Velly rose. "As did you, Nornsong. I gave you the position of saucier because you were the one that completed things, that prepared the sauces, that knew how everything comes together. Right now, I need you to hold your nerve. These are trying times, but to see your dish complete, we must not waver. We must be unbending, even if it costs us our lives."

"If it costs you your pride, you mean?" she snapped back. “Because that’s what matters. The only reason we included the Faebread was because you didn’t want Stranger Delights to outdo us. To be the superior place for exotic dishes.”

The chef glared at her. His lizard eyes burned, and his pyromancy began to rise. "You overstep saucier," he growled.

"No! As you said, I am the one that keeps perspective, I am the one that finishes the meat, and right now I am telling you that we are outmatched. The bread! They are more devious than us! They know our ways! They've listened to us pretending to slumber! They attacked when we weren't ready! And now they press us, they drive us against each other. Look at us now!”

"You think I don't know that?" Velly snarled. "You think I'm unaware of how—"

For the system’s sake, Shiv cleared his throat. "You know, I could go and talk to them or something. See if I can get your people released.”

The elf fell silent, and the lizard man turned to stare at him. "You would do that, commis. Even if it has a high chance of costing you your life, even if they might capture you, sever your fingers, feed your fingers because of their hateful ways, you would do this."

"Why the hell would they feed me my fingers?" Shiv muttered.

"Because they fed most of my staff their fingers when they were taken." Velly stared off in the distance. "Our fingers. They despised them because that's what we use to touch the bread. And so they took that from my people. I had to listen to their screams earlier. Their screams..." 

He clutched his head, as if trying to hold in the trauma, and Shiv stared on, trying desperately to take the scene seriously.

"Yeah, that's really fucking messed up chef. But it sounds like they're going to start killing more of your staff soon if someone doesn't intervene. So, you know, maybe I'll see if I can get them to release some hostages or something."

And suddenly Nornsong looked upon Shiv with newfound appreciation. "You have nerve, boy, but I fear this nerve will not be enough. The Feybread despise us. They despise being captured by us, and they despise the fact that we ate one of them. We were never meant to be their tasters. They were bound and part of Princess Plum Blossom's story. For us to taste them and not her has incurred a grave travesty. And inflicted them with the pain of narrative transgression—They are barred from going home now. Not until they take a pound of flesh for what was lost. And not until their hearts are empty of rage—”

“So that Princess Plum Blossom will know only sweetness when she bites into us,” the distant echo said once more. And then, Shiv looked up, and he saw it—they were so fine and faint he missed them the first time, but the air was dense and choked with glitter. Bread particulates. It was against the ceiling, along the walls, being inhaled by Nornsong, Bowden, Velly, and—

Ah, shit, Shiv’s eyes widened as he looked down at him some. Something inside him was glittering bright as well. I sucked some of them inside me. That’s… This isn’t telepathy… They were getting inside us the whole time. That’s pretty cle—

And then Shiv felt himself burst apart from within.