SSD 5.11 - Food is More Than Fuel

The title of this chapter, while a bit trite, does reflect one of my core beliefs. That life is meant to be lived, and that the experiences we go through are there to be experienced. My life is challenging at the moment, but there is still much joy that is there whenever I am willing to have it, to let it in.

Ahem, regardless, enjoy the chapter.

And so, freed, the battles over, and their lives their own, the slaves did what they had desired so greatly, from the beginning; they began to live.

-From, A History of the Slave Rebellion, written anonymously.

==Zidaun==

Relations among my party had been slightly strained, lately. Not that I could blame any of them… except perhaps Gurek, and he had been the most upset of us all.

Inda and Firi, they understood the world, and had been exposed to that harshness early. Inda’s parents, being adventurers, had made she understood the nature of the world, and she had watched beginning adventurers failing to return well before she had become one herself. Firi, as an orphan, had learned that lesson from the beginning, even if he had ended up in one of the church orphanages, eventually.

No, Gurek, was the most sheltered of us, and so the cascade of death that would have come, if Caden wasn’t so different…

Human enough to care, on our small scale.

It had strained the last few days, and Gurek had cried often, avoiding my gaze whenever I entered. Still, I had been grateful that I wouldn’t need to kill him, even if I had to leave the others to offer comfort. Nothing I said would help. With no public actions, and with me as the person in power… well, I didn’t want him to die. It wasn’t like he had another artifact he could give away.

Why didn’t I want to kill him? Surely I should have wanted that? To avenge my god, to punish him for his temerity?

Not that it matters, anymore…

Caden had thoroughly shown himself to be something different, helped along by Exsan.

Perhaps something in my soul then, some feeling from him, a desire to show mercy where possible?

All of these thoughts had swirled in my head, well before I talked with Caden again, but now my thoughts were on Firi.

A smile bloomed across my face, and I grinned as I walked through the door Caden had left for me. In its usual way, the gradual transfer between places was seamless, leaving me no idea where one had ended, and the other began, save that I started in one place and ended in another.

Which was especially impressive, since this portal hadn’t exited at the usual entrance. Instead, as I walked, the walls started to fall away, sound started to murmur, the light dimmed, and faint hazes of motion trailed across my vision gradually growing more discrete. I could see my destination, a street, slowly growing in clarity, and then between one moment and the next, it shifted from an impression to reality. No one seemed to notice my sudden appearance, either.

That might not be too remarkable, for the busy street of a city, but this was inside a dungeon, surrounded by active adventurers. I had seen weapons drawn in a flash when newbies, with more power than sense, had teleported into the guild hall. They had each gotten a strong tongue lashing by a guild attendant about not startling stronger adventurers with a hair trigger.

It would be remarkable if none of the adventurers passing by had extra senses, if nothing else, and my sudden appearance should have at least triggered that. And yet, my appearance here was unremarked, but not unnoticed, because a few of the passersby gave me glances… mostly of irritation.

Right, clogging the path. Clogging the path and no one noticed that I wasn’t here before…

I shook my head.

I watched the adventurers flow by for a moment, the two streams obvious, as the fresh and bright adventurers in armor of the same, were obviously those entering, and contrasted against the stained, tired, and dirty ones that returned. The armored figures were a familiar sight, the polished metal smooth or loricated on the heavier armored. Others had on only scale or chain, and the lightest armored wore no more than sections of treated leather, sections of leather darker and creased where motion had worn like stretch marks.

I stepped into the flow, matching it, and walked down the central road of the grotto, toward home, beneath the eternal sky.

The darkness of that sky, and the closeness of the walls, made it feel more like a tunnel than a street open to the air. The sound of creaking leather, clacks of armors and weapons jangling, blended with the multitudinous cacophony of humanity that streamed down through like two opposing rivers, one clean and bright and the other clogged with dirt and islands of slower adventurers bearing wounds or just tired and worn down past the mortal flesh to reach the bone.

Looked like that myself, enough times.

The slow river diverged into a hundred tributaries as we reached the end of the enclosing walls. Hundreds of tents were pitched on the solid stone, forming makeshift streets. Larger tents, or clusters of tents, showed where merchants had set up to ply their own wares. The clang of a smith, the alcoholic wafts from a makeshift tavern, the sizzle of street food, all made their way to me. The sour smell of tannin and oil, from a thousand re-oiled pieces of leather, practically shimmered through the air on its own fumes, the storms of the Meadow requiring constant reapplication.

It was as if the area around an adventurer’s guild had been condensed and refined, then worn down to only the essentials, the true embodiment of adventuring.

With its own copy of the guild too…

And the guildmaster does almost seem the embodiment of a high level adventurer. An idealized one, anyway… slightly crazy, but overall friendly and good, with no care for any that have no practical use.

I breathed it all in for a moment, vaguely tempted by the street food… almost turning away, then decided I would.

Supposed to enjoy myself… to be happy.

Might cheer up Gurek, a little, and I’m sure Firi would like it. Inda can pretend all she likes, but we all know that she loves the fried sweets.

I practically jumped when Caden spoke into my mind again, letting me know he had expanded his control over the areas in front of the entrances, and he was letting people know what was going on.

Nice of him to tell me. Certainly better than finding out about it when someone came talking to me.

I stopped at a few places, collecting street food both sweet and savory, grabbing enough for both us and Tarrae’s team if they were around. Sure, the prices were ridiculous, and I had spent a few silvers in all by the time I was done, but we were far from civilization yet. I also took a moment to commision something from a baker who had just arrived, and I had only barely noticed tucked away in a slightly reclusive location. Finally, my arms piled high with twine bound and leaf wrapped food, I made my way home.

Everyone was there except for Anaath, who had been scarce the last few days. Even with Caden’s magnanimity, he hadn’t been taking the news of Tarrae’s behavior well.

Not sure if it is my place to deal with that.

No one else was in the kitchen, but Gurek popped up quickly, his nose practically vibrating. Even through his excitement, he had a faint downcast look, his eyes jerking in nervous motions.

“Wait, did you grab food, street food?” he asked. He continued, and I ignored whatever hesitance might have infected his voice, “You almost never grab street food, say it’s a waste of money.”

I smiled widely.

“I did. I was recently reminded that I should be working on enjoying life more. Appreciating the little things is part of that.” I stacked the faintly steaming pile on the table. “It’s not healthy to eat like this often, but it’s not a terrible thing to indulge occasionally, either. We certainly burn through food well enough in the dungeon. Plus, I thought it might cheer you up.”

Gurek, in between staring avariciously at the loaded table, managed to look touched and some of his reticence fell away.

“Well… maybe,” he said, trying to be gruff, but I could see a smile peaking through and a gleam in his eyes. Then they became serious again. “You know… I-I,” he paused for a moment, “I never meant for… any of this.”

I waited for a moment, to see if he would continue, but whatever impetus had prompted the statement seemed to have run dry. It wasn’t Gurek’s first apology, nor was it likely to be his last. I looked at his face, fully, and his eyes had a faint wetness.

I nodded, and offered him a faint sad smile. “I know. It wasn’t easy, all of this, for any of us. I’m sorry too… for what would have happened. For what I have made happen…” I trailed off, then continued. “I suppose this isn’t really about what either of would have wanted, or what we meant to have happen, simply about what is. If I hadn’t done something… it would have been the other Adar. They might not have been as restrained.”

It was the truth, even if it was incomplete. My duty meant that I had no choice. I had to act, to at least preserve the image of Adar authority. Honestly, I had been a bit surprised at how much leeway my duty had allowed. Perhaps it helped that I always planned to tell Caden and Exsan, in the end, and they would have had the final say.

Caden’s intervention had changed things, but it hadn’t actually gone against our authority. Everyone knew we worshiped dungeons; for us to change our actions at their words was no different than having a god come down and dictate terms. You nodded politely and did exactly what they asked. Not that it happens often. At least in public. This is actually the first, for us.

The new difference was that the public knew at least some of the dungeons were more than they had seemed, but that secret was already out.

I had heard people talking about Caden and Exsan, both adventurers and Adar. Most of the Adar were, in private, looking for what the dungeon got out of it. And there was, at the end of the day, quite a bit to be gained. A reputation as a merciful dungeon, the only merciful dungeon, would be an enormous draw. I had seen some full of pride that their dungeon was obviously ancient, and understood humanity better than any other.

If they only knew.

“It’s past though,” I said. “Have to move forward, as best we can.”

Apparently the waiting had stretched the patience of Gurek’s stomach, as it grumbled. He flushed, then grinned, looking over at the food again.

“So, can I just pick something out to start?”

I just laughed, shaking my head, letting the somberness fall away..

“Go grab the others, Tarrae’s team included,” I said, waving him off.

He disappeared through the doorway so fast that he practically teleported, running and shouting about food for everyone.

I smiled again, getting out plates, skewers, and knives.

We could eat the street food right off the leaves, but I had gotten a wide variety. Besides, some of them, like the whole roasted mauti leg, should be enough to fill four people on its own. Should be just enough to feed one Gurek, then. Sometimes I swore his class let him spread out getting full. I knew it wasn’t supposed to work like that, but classes and abilities did adapt to the people that used them. So with Gurek, who knew?

Maybe he managed to convince the class that slower absorption of the food would help prevent poisoning or something.

For a moment I imagined it. Gurek suddenly exploding in a fountain of food as meals that had been delayed years all suddenly filled him simultaneously.

Probably how he would want to go…

I just snickered and shook my head. I undid the rough twine, still green in a few places, did they make that from some grass in the dungeon?, and opened up the leaves, the comparitively more intense scents rushing out to fill the kitchen and spread outward. Even if Gurek weren’t fetching the others, there was a good chance this would have brought them around.

By the time the others started to arrive, the tables was set, with plates and food ready.

It was time to eat.