The next two days went by in a blur. Mel and I spent most of it meeting various people around town and schmoozing. Rubbing elbows. Hobnobbing. Fraternizing. Whatever you want to call it, we sucked up and laughed at terrible jokes and told stories we'd carefully constructed to sound really great.

Take it from me, kids: lying is only useful if you can keep the various bits straight.

All in all, I'd say it went well.

Karina, of the Spice Rack, was like many apothecaries I knew from Kinon. She was old, sorta creepy (especially since she was boss-eyed), and hobbled over by the hump on her back as if it had been a feature with years of extended history. Shockingly, she was also the sweetest thing.

As with most of those who dealt with the forests, she could spot Mel's true self in an instant. Without hesitation, the old woman practically prostrated herself before the pixie, praising her for any number of things.

I was largely ignored, which was fine by me.

After a rousing discussion where Mel had to refuse the offering of hot tea three times before finally (and graciously) accepting, we all gathered in Karina's kitchen to drink said tea, eat a handful of freshly-baked pastries that were just divine, and discuss the matters at hand.

As it turned out (shockingly) Karina was the only apothecary and spice monger in town. She was also incredibly lax with her prices, favoring repeated customers over those who would turn to cheaper, out of town labor. When presented with the list of items we required (including the staples of salt, sugar, and that lovely adobe seasoning Lizbeth had mentioned), she was more than happy to supply, and even offered a few other items.

Since I wasn't yet able to craft my own menu, I wasn't sure of the various bits and bobs we'd even need. But Karina was patient, asking about the nature of the eatery and then what type of buff food I was looking to make. Most recipes required a certain number of herbs or spices to up the deliciousness, and thus the quality.

It made me think about what I was even doing.

From my time as an adventurer, I knew there were three types of buff foods - offensive, defensive, and miscellaneous, which included the elusive experience point increasing food. Most were pure stats (increasing either one or more stats by a certain amount) but there were some that gave increases to generic system-based stuff, like attack, defense, various crafts, and more. There was a wide range, and if I wanted to be efficient, I would fucking pick something and stick to it.

Overall, attack was more useful. With a good enough defense, you could outlast any monster, but the numbers required for that were astronomical. No one was going to pump only defense like some sort of madman. Or woman. Well, I shouldn't say no one. There was one tank who tried (their name is eluding me, but it was some sort of plant), but they ended up being little more than a decorative statue in combat because they couldn't fucking move fast enough.

Dipping into the miscellaneous category would really be for one-offs. I wanted a menu option that would boost crafting experience for myself, but it would take a lot of trial and error to figure it out.

When I told Karina my answer, and my reasoning, she was well on board. And she produced a small list of herbs and spices she had available that would be useful for the dishes.

Most were things for savory dishes. Dried leaves and ground spices that would be welcome in any bowl of comforting soup. I decided to get a small amount of various things, just to keep on hand. As soon as I knew what dishes I was going to make on the regular, I'd option for larger qualities.

We left Karina's after a few hours of talking. I found out many things (like that she had an insanely cute grand daughter who worked for her, who went by the name of Jane) and that Karina's husband was the one who collected the majority of the herbs she used. He was a druid, which really impressed Mel, but meant nothing to me. Apparently they were trained from birth to live in the forests and rarely ever left, and them marrying townsfolk was nearly impossible.

I wondered if Karina had once looked as good as her granddaughter. I'd have left home for that, too.

Eventually, however, we headed out, and as soon as we were out the door, Mel gave me shit for flirting with Jane. Of course. But I didn't take it too much to heart. Jane might have had a nice smile and gorgeous, uh, teeth, but my heart was in the eatery. There was no time for romance, especially not with a girl who would deserve the finest things to keep her by my side.

Next on our list was Antonio, a grocer who specialized in fresh produce. He ran a stall at the permanent open-air market in town, which I'd seen a few times. A little wooden sandwich board claimed his stand was called Corner Produce, even though there wasn't a corner anywhere in the vicinity of his location.

Antonio was a busy man, since he was the only person manning the stall and there was a constant stream of customers. Our discussion was constantly interrupted by him darting out to help a patron pick the perfect peach, or directing a delivery on where they could put incoming products. Antonio explained (through broken conversation that he was somehow miraculously able to pick up perfectly mid sentence) that he was a hub for the local farmers, and while he usually had his kids to help him, he'd given them the day off to enjoy the lovely weather.

When we explained what we needed, he was quick to throw out a handful of numbers that seemed random. Every day, he'd be willing to send one of his kids over to see what we'd need for the next morning. For a barrel of vegetables, fruits, and milled grain, he'd charge a gold and two quarters. Anything we wanted could be in there. He was more worried about making sure the barrel was filled than about what went into it.

It sounded like a dream come true. It meant that I'd be able to change up dishes day-to-day, using not only whatever was available, but also whatever was most profitable.

Mel tried to sweet talk him into a better deal (she told me, once he darted away to deal with a customer, that a barrel for that much sounded high) but Antonio was firm on the price. Which was fine by me. I eventually gave him instructions on where to send his kids beginning next week, and we went on our merry way.

Last on our list was Dean, owner of a shop called Winchester Brothers. The name, obviously enough, came from the combination of Dean and his brother Samuel. Sam owned a ranch just on the outskirts of Mystic Falls, and he was sure to provide Dean with a steady flow of meats. Some were your standard fare, including pork and chicken, but there were some exotic finds as well, including rabbit and elipopede. He also had ice chests for sale, which was a thing I hadn't thought of before now, and was pretty pissed that I'd nearly fucked that up.

Dean was a down-to-earth guy, the kind of which you could see yourself meeting for a drink and spend the whole night talking about manly things. He laughed loud and often, but his face was sure to take on a stern sort of seriousness the second we started talking business.

Meat, as it turned out, was expensive.

I immediately decided I would need to use meat products sparingly if I could. I wasn't about to go headfirst into veganism because of it, but if I used a lot of meat in my dishes, I would go broke quickly.

Once again, I couldn't really establish exactly what I needed just yet, but we did end up purchasing an ice chest, and did set up something similar to Antonio's delivery plan. Dean didn't have any kids to run around town, but he was awake with the sun, and he enjoyed a stroll through town before he had to set up shop. He offered to stop by and see what we needed, and if an emergency came up, he would be back at the shop before too long.

When Mel and I finished making our rounds, we split up again. She went back to the eatery and I returned to Olde Day's Inn.

There was no argument from Lizbeth this time, and she put me straight to work.

For the rest of the afternoon, I scrubbed vegetables, chopped produce, and cooked simple meals. All with Lizbeth hovering over my shoulder. She told me she didn't trust me just yet, but as soon as I hit level five she'd actually be able to get other things done.

At the rate I was going, that would be another few days still... and while I didn't have the heart to tell her, I knew I wouldn't still be coming in for shit job duty.

I had an eatery of my own. And I was going to work there.

This arrangement with Lizbeth was nice. I got some experience (especially in knife skills - I was terrified of cutting myself for way too long) and she got some free labor, but it was temporary.

I worked well into the night, and eventually Lizbeth sent me home with two meals (one of me, and one for the 'missus') and after eating with Mel at one of our newly set up tables, I slept, woke up, and went back to work.

It wasn't until I came home that following night, worn out and in need of a bath, that I realized Mel had finished the second floor. She'd even moved our cots by herself.

We spent our first night in our tiny little closet of a shared bedroom, satisfied.

Sure, we were going broke fast, and we had a lot of potential expenses with no income. And there was always the dual threat of Mari Belle and Duncan.

I still needed to get the eatery finished, and my menu crafted.

But I had also thought of the perfect name for this place: Ambition.

Adventurers would love it.