The routine at The Good Troll was not bad, Erion thought.

It was his sixth month of work in the tavern/restaurant, a meeting spot for all kinds of adventurers, specially the shadiest ones, who happened to be at the once glamorous town of Hurd, one of the biggest in the Southlands.

Like Ciaran said, Wagil, owner of The Good Troll, was a connoisseur of the strangest foods and dishes made by man. The tavern’s menu mostly consisted of stuff that its patrons never heard of, not leaving much doubt for why booze was by far the most popular product on sale.

However, even though cooking strange animals, plants and vegetables was encouraged by Wagil, monsters were still an untouchable area. For the untrained eye, it might not seem that monsters and strange animals are different things, but any adventurer can feel the aura of Evil emitting from the flesh of a beast. One might think that Wagil had already tried to cook one in his past experiments; a false assumption as he very well knew about the frontier he would have to cross.

In the days of Erion, it is almost impossible to find it but there once was a book. Its name was Recordings of The Farthest Lands, a travel journal of a Swordsman who, with his guild, once went to the lands untouched by the civilized man. An interesting chapter describes a tribe living in a remote valley with their way of life adapted to their amount of monsters around them. They were a society of hunters, trained since childhood to deal with constant and indescribable horrors. But pure they were not, as with no food available they had to resort to eating their nightmares.

They were corrupted, people with dark hearts. Slowly, they were becoming just another race of them, with disfigured shapes and an unrecognizable language.

Wagil didn’t need to read for much longer. After the night he finished the book, the thought of cooking a dish out of an Evil creature not even once passed through his mind.

No surprise that convincing him to taste the Slime soup was a hard task.

He gave up when he, as Ciaran did before him, felt something different in the usual aura of darkness involving the goo. Instead of evil, there was passion and taste.

Obviously, the uniqueness and feeling weren’t enough to serve it to other people, but Erion got a job as an assistant chef, although his job wasn’t always to cook.

One particular day, a peculiar party went through the entrance. Four people leaded by a huge women with a burned skin covered in pelts and a tribal hair separated in thick braids. Right behind was a tall man clad in dark iron armor, although he looked shorter near the Barbarian. Side-by-side were a girl with her mouth covered by cloths and several scars through her body and another man, with his face hidden by the shadow of his black wizard hat.

The bartender shrugged and shouted to the kitchen.

“Wagil! The spider is here!”

At the moment, he was with Erion showing him how to properly season the tentacle of a colossal squid. With the summoning, he ordered the boy to accompany him to help pick up the delivery.

“Wow, a spider? Is it tasty?”

“It tastes like shrimp. Or like chicken, if you want to be cliche.”

When they exited the smoky room, the group was waiting for them at the counter while their leader carrying a huge leather bag. She smiled.

“I was almost thinking you weren’t here. No point in delivering if we can’t taste the dish.”

“Hahaha, I understand – fortunately, I’m here.”

The woman handed Wagil the huge bag.

“Careful, it’s heavy.”

Wagil grabbed the bag carelessly, thinking he still had the strength of his youth. When his back almost cracked at the weight, he slowly whispered.

“Erion… Lend me a hand here.”

“Uh, sure, Mr. Wagil.”

In less than a minute, the two were dumping the giant spider in a crate.

“Hey, Mr. Wagil, who exactly are those people?”

“They’re the people I call when I need something that’s not on the market. I’ve known them since they were green adventurers drinking booze in my tavern. I think they’re somewhat high level now and even joined a big guild, but they still do some work for me. Why the interest?”

“It’s… well… I came here because I wanted to do my own thing, you know? And your exotic food is great and all, but it’s yours. Sometimes I feel like I should be out there in the world, finding the truly unique tastes.”

“Ah, so you’ve finally decided it. I was waiting for this day. To me, it was always clear that you didn’t belong in someone’s else restaurant. I just gave you some time to discover it yourself.”

“Well… do you think that they need a cook? You know, for the long journeys?”

“Why don’t you go ask them? Tell them that I’m making the spider dish.”

“Ok, ok.”

By himself, Erion left the kitchen. The four were sitting in a table at a corner, being served drinks by one of the waitresses. Timidly, the young chef approached them.

“Ahem, excuse me… Mr. Wagil is making the dish right now… It shouldn’t take too long.”

“I hope so, boy.” The man with the wizard hat said. “We ate nothing but rations in the way so we could appreciate our nice hunt. Tell him to be quick or we’ll order appetizers!”

“Shut up, Harry. You’re annoying.” The armored man said right after.

Interrupting the imminent discussion, their leader talked to Erion.

“Thank you. Is there anything else?”

“Um, kind of… yes… I wanted to ask you something.”

“Go on.” She calmly responded.

“I learned that you guys go on long trips… And from the sound of it, you mostly rely on eating rations, etc. I was wondering if you wanted a cook to make your travels… better?”

Everybody on table traded some looks. Suddenly, the wizard started laughing.

“Haha, come on. Your determination is alright, but are you sure you shouldn’t be looking for a lower level group? I mean, we’re clearly way more experienced than you.”

This time, the quiet, shady woman shut him off with a slap on the arm.

“Ow, you didn’t need to do that, I was just telling him the truth.”

The huge woman then said.

“Look, I understand what you want. Unfortunately, Harry is kind of right, our missions would probably be too hard for you.”

“I-I’m not that weak! Maybe I won’t help a lot in combat, but it’s not like I’m a fragile victim.”

The barbarian seemed ready to give him another negative response then, suddenly, the man clad in armor intervened.

“Hey, you guys are judging too much without ever having seen him in action! We could use our next hunt to test him.”

Their leader opened her mouth to say something, but hesitated, falling in deep thought. After some seconds of considerations, she sighed.

“Ok, if you want it so much, you can come with us to our next mission. It shouldn’t be too hard as it’s just one of Wagil’s request, but it should be enough to judge if you’re worthy. Anyways, it would be nice to have someone cooking for us while we’re on the road.”

Happy, Erion extended his hand.

“Thank you a lot! I won’t disappoint you… And my name’s Erion, nice to meet you!”

“I’m Rasla, The Barbarian. The asshole is Harry, The Warlock. The guy covered in steel is Max, The Cavalier. Finally, the quiet girl is Anda, The Assassin.”

The apprentice chef greeted everyone, thinking about how none of them was a healer.