[At Sea] Cooking for The Star (Solo)

[Nathan Longstride]

7th day of Fall, 511 AV Since The Star of Denval left port in Zeltiva, Nathan had been working minor tasks, not really handling the major sailing. He had become too used to the bilge for his liking, and took a chance to chat with the passangers whenever he could. But at the moment, Nathan was in his usual resting spot under the stairs to where the captain steered the ship, resting after working all morning. His cloaks were packed away, along with his robes. In fact, he only wore a white linen shirt and black breeches; his boots were anchored between his backpack and rucksack. Slipping once on the slick deck left Nathan with a bruise on his temple and the knowledge that barefeet was safer than his new boots. The stairs provided some shade from the sun overhead, but when his relief doubled, Nathan knew it wasn't natural. Looking up, Nathan stared up at the round, chubby face of Sagathanus Tolly, the head cook on the ship. A white apron was covered his round stomach, which sagged over the belt he wore. His breeches were rolled up, and he too was barefoot, revealing disgusting feet that seemed to not be washed often. Because of his pig resemblence, he was usually in the cooking area. And he never spoke to Nathan unless he wanted him to help cook. Letting it slip once that he had cooked since moving into his own cottage landed him part-time work cooking the crew's meals. "You're going to cook the crew's meal while I cook for the passengers." Sag, as he was called by all on the ship, enjoyed to put his time into cooking the passengers's meals, as they were more important in his eyes. Plus whenever I messed up, he could just say it was all my fault, and he was spending his time tending the paying customers. Which Nathan never had much to do anyway; salted beef, dried peas, and sailor biscuits didn't require much cooking. "Will the passengers be getting broiled lamb or grilled salmon this evening?" Nathan asked in return, standing to face the cook. "And should I save the scraps off their plates for our dessert?" Chuckling at the scowl Sag gave him, Nathan stepped passed him, and through the door where the cooking was done.

[Nathan Longstride]

It didn't take long to walk through the interior of the ship to get to where Sag did his work. Two fire boxes sat underheath portholes, the smoke drifting out of it outside. About a few feet behind the fire boxes were two tables, nailed to the floor, with crates of different rations for the crew. Nathan could name their contents without looking. The sack was full of sailor's biscuits, the hardest chunk of bread Nathan was ever dumb enough to bite into. One crate held salted beef, while other crates had dried peas, carrots, and potatoes, which could last their long trip to Denval. Looking at Sag' table, Nathan noticed that it was empty. "Where's the meals for the upper class?" As usual when Nathan jested about his care for the passengers, he turned his fat head way, ignoring him. As if turning away erased what had already been said. Instead he spoke in his suprising high voice on such a large body. "Their food will be brought shortly. I'll be speaking with the captain, so you'll be alone with the food. Try not to screw up." Sag finished speaking, his fat lips curling into what looked like a smirk, before heading back the way he came. Nathan could barely turn around and wash his hands in a water basin before Freed Landare stepped into the area, a basket of fish in his arms. The bass seemed to be almost overflowing onto the floor, but the experienced sailor kept them all clean as he set them down. Going on thirty, Freed worked as a fisherman in Zeltiva, using this as a chance to furfill his dream of catching all the fish throughout the world. Blond hair drawn back in a ponytail, he always smiled, and with good reason when he spoke. "The fish were jumping into our nets today. Caught more than ole Sag can cook. Where is that fat hog anyway?" Even when he insulted someone, the smile never ceased. "Talking to the Captain. If I'm thrown overboard, its because Sag requested it." Freed's smile widened more as he turned to leave. A final wave, and then he was gone. Looking at the dead fish, he rubbed his chin. I wonder if I could use some of those? Walking over to a peg on the wall, Nathan threw an apron over him, tying it around him so it wouldn't fling around with every movement. Then, clearing space for some extra ingredients, Nathan picked out a dozen plump sea bass, piling them up. Finally, the teenager pulled out of a plain dagger, which was half-stuck into his pants, with only the hilt sticking out. He was ready to begin. Picking one fish up, he quickly sliced the head off, dropping the head into a seperate pile, which would be bait for tomorrow. The scales came off next, bloodying both Nathan's apron, hands, and his dagger. Organs and bones were also taken out, as Nathan only wanted the meat. All unused items were in one pile, and the edible items were in a second, smaller pile. But with eleven more fish to dissect in the same manner, both piles grew, one with white meat, and the other with bones and fish heads. Moving the fish from the table to the fire box took several trips, but it only took a few minutes for the fish to begin frying over the fire pit, similar to a "grill". While the fish sizzled, Nathan pulled out a metal pot, setting it down beside the fire box, and a large, wooden spoon to scoop the fish out into the pot when they were done. The scent of frying fish was a sweet smell to Nathan, and it would be unless Sag walked in and found him cooking the fish meant for his passengers. With a few dozen left to work with, Sag would still rage, making Nathan sure to remember that all the fish were meant for the passengers. About two minutes after setting the fish down to fry, he scooped them up little by little with his spoon, dumping the meat into the pot, which only filled a quarter of the way up. Wiping his bloody dagger across his-- Sag's apron, he turned back to the other ingredients. What was next?

[Nathan Longstride]

Lifting the pot filled with fried fish, Nathan walked back over to the preparation table, pondering on what to do next. Finally deciding to use the usual rations, Nathan started pulling out the salted beef, dried peas, and potatoes. There were twenty three crew members including himself, and they all got the same amount of food, except for fat Sag and Captain Augus. But Nathan didn't care, his teenage rebellion kicking in, as he tossed handfuls of what he thought was the rations into the pot. Dried Peas went in without pause, but Nathan stopped when he came to the salted meat. Pulling the chunks out, he layed them on the table, dicing the chunks into smaller pieces. Being a novice, the chunks were uneven, some large, and some that couldn't cover his finger nail on his thumb. But he didn't care, knowing with the added fish, those eating his special surprise. Scooping the meat up with his hands, it went into the pot along with the fish and peas. Pulling two dozen potatoes; Sag always snuck another one at supper, Nathan began to peel the potatoe with the help of his dagger. Skins slowly came off into a pile, with only small pieces left on the naked potatoes, which he set in the corner. Next came cutting the potatoes up one by one, going down the long side on the vegetable, followed by a second go around on the already chopped up chunks. These too were uneven, but if everything was precise, Nathan would get bored. Plus he figured he'd get better as time went along. With the potatoes in the pot, Nathan figured he would be making a stew. But he just realized that the water on the ship was for drinking, not to be used a broth for stew. The cask of wine in the corner drew Nathan's eye. There was Kelp Beer too, already dusty after hardly being touched, but The Star of Denval had a left over cask from Mura. Looking over his shoulder to make sure Sag didn't walk in on him, Nathan took his half-full pot over there, grabbing a clean glass from Sag's table. Nathan had to wash any dishes he used, but if they were Sag's, he had to wash them. Dipping the cup into the cask, Nathan began to dump cup full after cup full into the pot. He didn't have what you called the steadiest hand, and some of it sloshed onto the floor. So the rats would get drunk that night. When most of the food was floating in Konti wine, Nathan took the pot to the fire box, setting it on top. The flames licked at the bottom of the pot, slowly boiling his stew. Turning around, Nathan began to scan the area for the most important object when cooking stew. Bowls.

[Nathan Longstride]

A quick search found only about a dozen bowls, and they were stashed away with Sag's other items for the passengers. Leaning against Sag's desk, Nathan begins to think over the rest of their things. He was positive that he wouldn't want to share one bowl with any of the crew, even the captain. And what if Sag made stew too. The quick image of the passengers having to use their hands as bowls led to some unmanly giggles that Nathan put down quickly. He really needed to grow up, even if there was on one around him. And besides, the passengers would just use the freshly baked bread to slop it up. . . Nathan snaps his fingers, and walks back over to his table. Underneath the bolted tables were sacks filled with Nathan's nemesis, sailor's bread. A post-Valterrian creation, the bread was shaped like a round rock, and it was harder than stone. But it lasted a long time on seas, which was what counted, and it got soft eventually. Yet, Nathan wanted it to stay hard for the moment. These were going to be his bowls. Pulling out twenty three biscuits, Nathan layed them in four rows of six, picking up the first one. With his dagger, he began to slowly carve off the top layer, hoping to leave what resembled a bowl. He had a steady hand, something needed when you fought with daggers, and it only took a few moments to have the very top cut off. When that was down, he began to cut the insides out too. Instead of being precise, he cut the entire chunk out, leaving only some of the softer area inside to act as the inner layer, and the crust, which felt like steel in his hands. Twenty two biscuits were done the same, none perfect, but all sturdy and able to do what their duty was. Pushing his "bowls" aside, Nathan than began to cut up the bread with his dagger, make uneven chunks. The pile steadily grew as he worked with the twenty three chuncks of bread, but it was finally done, and carried over to be thrown in the pot. These men were going to know what soft bread was, even if it was soaked in wine with a fishy flavor.

[Nathan Longstride]

Nathan didn't have to wait long for the stew to cook, a strange but sweet aroma rose from the pot. Picking up a wooden spoon, he blew on the soup in it, and dumped it in his mouth. Besides from burning his tongue, it had a nice taste, and something new. Nathan like new things, and this was a good example. Using the spoon, Nathan dumped spoonful after spoonful into his "bowls" Some spilt on the floor, but Nathan payed it little mind. So what if the rats had a meal along with the wine he spilt earlier? It only took a few minutes, and then there was twenty-three bowls of steaming fish stew ready for consumption. Nathan untied the apron, tossing it back on the peg, and headed up to the surface. He couldn't wait to see Sag's face when he saw the meal he cooked up. He just hoped the others thought it was good too. The End

[Tabarnac]

XP Award! Nathan XP Award: Sailing +1; Cooking +5 Additional Notes: Sorry for the delay! Feel free to PM me if you have any questions or concerns. Keep writing!