Private Tales Soup, Skull and Spatulas

[Pim]

It was just past noon in the bustling port of Alliria. White sails fluttered like flocks of seagulls on the azure ocean, where ships of all sizes were coming and going from the great city of commerce. Sweaty sailors shouted and cursed as they hauled goods across the highway of boardwalks and prepared docked ships for their return to the sea. Pickpockets were on the lookout for an easy mark. Shifty-eyed merchants watched them from the corners of their eyes as they bartered passage for their goods. Beggars slept in shaded alleys to escape the midday heat.

A halfling woman in plain travelling clothes sat on a barrel looking out at the docks, her hopelessly messy straw-gold hair catching the breeze despite her frequent attempts to tame it under a straw hat. Eventually she gave up and turned her attention to something far more important: her lunch.

A crumb tumbled down the halfling's chin and through a crack in the boardwalk below. Her gaze fell to where it had disappeared with a hint of sorrow, as if she'd lost an entire sandwich to the cruelty of gravity. She sighed and took another bite of the hearty beef pie she'd packed in case of emergency. A late lunch should qualify, by her reasoning.

Pim had been waiting an awfully long time for the rest of her party to show up. The owner of the catering company she worked for, a highly strung man at the best of times, had a long-standing grudge against lateness. But breakfast had long gone, and now lunch was coming to a close with no sign of any of the other employees. She was supposed to meet them here before boarding the ship they'd hired for portage to... well, she couldn't remember where, but did it really matter? Gone were the days of the company having exciting costumers. Not since the boss had decided that catering to wealthy aristocrats was more profitable and carried less liability than haunted vampire castles out in the middle of nowhere.

Perhaps it was time for her to consider a new career. Something where her specialized baking skills would be better appreciated. Something that promised a new culinary adventure!

"Hey!" she exclaimed helplessly as a werewolf - no, on further inspection it was just a hairy man with crooked teeth and arm muscles the size of melons - yanked her seat out from under her.

"Sod off, pipsqueak!" he growled, only to backtrack when a cast-iron stove jumped at him from the cluster of boxes and barrels. Its slightly rounded shape was covered all over with patchworked metal. Despite the strange metalwork and quirky decorations reminescent of some cross between a bulldog and a hedgehog, it somehow managed to appear menacing. Hot sparks flared from a snapping grate that silently promised a lack of teeth would not prevent it from gnawing his foot off. The sailor blanched at the sight of a possessed oven and dropped the barrel on his foot in his haste to escape, howling like a tone-deaf opera singer gargling syrup.

The oven hopped over to the halfling on its four stubby legs. Pim dusted herself off and patted the oven's side reassuringly. The metal was surprisingly cool to the touch despite the embers burning inside its firebox.

"I'm okay, Smokey. You know, I'm pretty tired of being here too. What do you say we wait onboard the ship?"

A soft metallic whine was the oven's only response. Placing her hand on her forehead to block the blinding sunlight, Pim scrutinized the ships moored along the wharf, trying to recall the name of the transport ship her boss had hired. The Cutting Remark? The Junebug?

"I think that's it," she said and pointed to a ship that looked a bit different than the surrounding merchant vessels. Yes, that was definitely it. Probably.

Captain Kelly Wells

 

[Captain Kelly Wells]

What little did Pim know was that she had stumbled upon a carrack that had docked along the port of Alliria. It was easy for someone to think of it as a regular ship, capable of moving people and things across the seas, and it was disguised as such. But the captain and crew of this ship know her as The Saunders. A fine vessel afloat. This was no regular ship of course, for the captain and the crew are the infamous Pirates of Saunders. They travel around the seas plundering merchant ships and towns and villages who do not agree to pay a token fee for their safety. They are the most feared pirates around that most local authorities agree to pay to ensure their own safety.

They make landfall in their home of Alliria, handing out their treasure to the poor and downtrotten. This gang is formally a group of urchins and street rats, they would be sympathetic to those in desperation. They also had to resupply their ship. Captain Kelly Wells stands strong on the bow of her ship. Oban born, but raised on the high seas after being abandoned by her supposedly rich family when she was a lass.

"Ma'am!" her second mate shouted, "We have completed our restock. We should be ready to set off".

"Then sets off we shall! We needed this short break. Feeding starving orphans is not an easy task don't ya knows".

"Wish its the same for us, that cook that you brought aboard made some of these dried meats palletable".

"That wise guy got what was coming to 'em. Overboard the moment he began pillfering our own supplies. But a good point, we shall see if we can press-gang someone into our crew. Preferably female". They clear the gangplank, unfurled the sails, lifted anchors, and slowly sail out of the port. No one knew that two stowaways made their way onto the ship, but they'll soon find out eventually.

Pim

 

[Pim]

Pim hadn't waited around for the rest of her company to show up. Instead she'd cheerfully given herself a self-guided tour of what she considered to be the important parts of the ship. Naturally, that meant she'd ended up in the kitchen. Galley, she seemed to recall was its technical term. It was empty at the moment - empty, lonely and decidedly lacking in all of the coziness that a kitchen deserved.

The spice racks were almost bare but for a few mysterious bottles lacking labels. The majority of the cooking utensils were made up of some nicked old knives and a couple pokers that looked like they were originally for fireplace use. The pantry, at least, was well stocked, if lacking in inventive ingredients. It smelled heavily of salted fish.

Her stomach rumbled as she silently categorized the pantry's contents. Well, she couldn't be the only one who was hungry, right? The rest of the catering company would be here soon enough and likely stepping all over her toes with their own recipes. Better to get a head start before then.

Pim brought out her luggage (which was comprised of a change of clothes, some sleepwear, and her mobile kitchen), set out her cooking tools, and got to work. She didn't notice the change in the rocking motion of the deck below her feet as the ship went out to sea. She merely hummed a tune as she peeled potatoes and carrots.

"Ahoy there. You the new cook then?" a crew mate asked with a hint of skepticism on her face. Pim was busily trying to set a pot of water to boil on Smokey's top. Smokey was having a harder time than the light halfling steadying itself against the constant swaying.

"A-hoy!" Pim replied with a grin. "Well, I'm a cook. I'm - no, stay still Smokey you're spilling the pot!" The crew mate shrugged and went back to her own business of ensuring nearby barrels of fresh water were properly secured.

"Hey, whatcha makin' anyway?"

Pim beamed. "Vegetable pie with herbed gravy!"

The halfling received a cautiously optimistic nod before the seawise woman disappeared back up the stairs to the main deck. And then her attention wandered back to her strange oven and a serenade about potatoes.

Captain Kelly Wells

 

[Captain Kelly Wells]

It was the high seas now. The smell of the salty air filled the nose of Captain Kelly. She was home. She was where she and her crew belonged. Being on land for a while was fun and necessary, but ever since she was an orphan, she found the seas liberating from the klaxon of life on the streets. Her crew can attest to it.

"Captain!" One of her crewmates, her quartermaster exclaims. "It looks like it's smooth sailing from here. Not a single sign of storms in sight".

"Wonderful! I want full sails from here on" She looks through her spyglass, stolen from a merchant mariner. "I'll keep me eyes out for scallywags lookin' fer a fight. Those landlubbers won't have any idea what would hit them!". She takes a bite out of an apple she had in her pocket. Fresher than what she and her crew would be used to. "We have a short supply of fresh fruits, so we should be wise on how we use them".

"Of course, captain".

"Can't fight on the seven seas with an empty stomach, especially with the smell of fresh food wafting in the air". She salivates over the smell of something savory in the air.

"Check down in the galley to see what's cookin', and check our stores as well".

"Aye-aye, captain". The quartermaster leaves the captain to salivate while she goe she goes into the galley to find someone in there cooking away.

"Ahoy! Smells good! What are ye cookin'?".

Pim

 

[Pim]

"Poh-tay-toe, oh poh-tay-toe! Growing in the greeeen fields-" Pim sang to herself until another woman called out that quirky greeting known by sailors all over the ocean. She looked up from the pile of dough she was rolling out and wiped a hand across her face, leaving a smudge of flour on her cheek.

"Ahoy!" she called back. "I'm making some savory pies with vegetables. Mostly potatoes and onions, since that's what's in the pantry. And this funny-looking tuber I found in there!" She gestured to a pile of pinkish cubes among other vegetables on the cutting board.

She paused with a frown, her intuition trying to politely suggest that there was probably something else needing an explanation, but she couldn't quite place what that was. Here she was in this strange kitchen that wasn't hers making food, and there was a sailor she had never met asking about it.

Nope, everything is in good order here, Pim's infallible logic explained.

Pim's mind wandered in vacant silence for a moment before a high metallic squeak brought her back to reality.

"Oop! The first pie is done!" she said. She donned a pair of oversized mitts and didn't so much remove the pie as catch the pie when the oven door opened.

"Mmmmm..." She set the steaming pastry on the end of the preparation table between her and the quartermaster. An an expression of utter victory occupied the flour-marked baker's face.

The mitts were off. With a whistled signal, a knife flew up from the table and into Pim's outstretched hand, pointing toward the quartermaster as if in challenge. Then it cut cleanly into the pie.

"Care for a slice?" she asked her new friend, who she hadn't thought to ask the name of. Such social expectations tended to occupy Pim's mental library several light-years away from the book on baking ingredients.

Captain Kelly Wells

 

[Captain Kelly Wells]

"Well... okay". The quartermaster took a slice and took a bite, blowing air after biting from how hot it was. Chewing on the piece she took, her face was that of surprise, in a good way like she had died and gone to heaven. Leagues better than the rations that the crew had to subsist on for a while.

"You said you made this with the vegetables we have? I must say, this is really good. When did you find time to cook?"

Pim

 

[Pim]

Pim politely finished her first bite before answering, although considering all of the flavor calculations she was making, that took a few minutes.

"Well, my party was a little late for the boarding, so I decided I might as well do something fun while I was waiting. Usually Sir de Gaufres is such a stickler for being on time, too! Anyway, I found this kitch- erm, galley, and decided I might as well have some fun while I was waiting. Speaking of which, you haven't seen a tall, thin, angry-looking man, a halfling lad and a scary-looking kivren around, have you?"

Captain Kelly Wells