Nom was going to accompany Nay to the mists of Maer Scathan to hunt down this Aule. If Nay didn’t get the moon cake recipe, the Green Moon Festival would be a disaster. At least that’s how Quincy framed it. At the very least it would be a major downer.

She hadn’t told him what was going on, that ‘Ol Pat never wrote down the recipe so she was now on this wild goose chase to acquire it for the townsfolk of Lucerna’s End. As far as Quincy was concerned, Nay was still acquiring enough ingredients and was prepping to mass produce the cakes.

Aule had approved of ‘Ol Pat but the old cook let the recipe fade away with her. Now, Nay was having to stand in her place for the town and earn the good graces of this Friend of Man. And Nom would be coming as her backup. Just in case things got dicey. And, let’s be honest, things for Nay always had a way of getting dicey.

So, naturally, the first matter of business was consuming more of the Marrow of the Mewlipped Tode.

/////////

Nay had defrosted one of the remaining filets of the tode Marrow, and it was salted and sitting on a rack while she prepared the ale batter. She poured some Icemarrow Ale into a bowl of flour and gave it a good mix until it was the droopy consistency of a melted milkshake. If the batter was too thick, it had a way of trapping more steam while it fried, making the fish become a soppy mess once it was in the sandwich. So a light batter with a light touch was the play for her.

Nom was next to her, preparing his version of tartar sauce. He had made the mayonnaise himself too, and for a delusional few minutes they wondered if they had introduced mayo to this world.

“Probably not,” Nay said. “I’m sure the Culinary Guild has stuff that we’ve never heard of or even conceived. So, I’m sure they figured out how to make mayo a long time ago.”

Nom strained lemon juice over the mayo. Next he added in chopped pickles, snow shallots and cured capers. His special ingredient was crumbling these packaged crackers he had found in the pantry. He had developed an affinity for them in Nay’s absence.

They came in a red and gold cardboard sleeve. The material looked it came from playing cards of some kind. They were labeled, “Duke Umberto’s Digestive Biscuits.” Nay had tried one and it seemed to be a cross between a Ritz cracker and a Saltine cracker.

“They do miracles for my digestion,” Nom had said.

“I didn’t realize you had issues.”

“My esophagus sphincters can always use a little attention. Skyr and these crackers have me running like a well-lubed machine.”

“TMI, Nom. TMI.”

“TMI?”

“Too Much Information.”

He finished the tartar sauce off with a generous dose of dill.

“You can’t forget the dill,” Nom said. “Tartar sauce just isn’t tartar sauce without it.”

Nay wiped the excess moisture of the Marrow filet and then dredged it in flour. Putting a layer of starch on the meat would give the batter something to bond to. She dipped it in the beer batter and then slowly set it into the pan of oil. Easing it in prevented the battered fish from sticking to the bottom of the pan.

“What kind of Marrow Ability do you think it’s going to be?” Nom said. “I think it would be interesting if it gave you that deadly tongue the creature had. I saw it rip off a man’s head from at least three fauglir carriages away like it was grabbing a cluster of grapes off a vine.”

Nay was struck with the image of the Mewlipped Tode ripping off a night watchman’s head. She shook her head, wishing she could forever forget that memory and have it never be revived again.

“Sounds useful,” Nay said as she watched the Marrow fry. Gold and green motes of light floated out of the oil. “Maybe if I never regained my sense of taste.”

She shuddered at the thought of having a frog tongue as a weapon that could rip pieces off people, and not only that, actually having to taste everything while it was happening. Leave it to Nom to conjure disgusting images full of too many sensory details.

After a couple of minutes, the Marrow was done frying. She scooped it out and shook off the excess oil, letting it dry. The filet now had a glassy and golden layer of beer batter locking in its flavor. She found herself salivating as she prepared a bun.

“You didn’t happen to save any of that Crab Marrow for me, did you?” Nom said. “I’d really like another ability.”

Nay froze. “Oh my god, Nom! I’m such an idiot. How could I have forgotten?”

She summoned the claw of the Caraxian Crab from her inventory. She dropped the huge appendage before it fully materialized into her hands. It appeared next to them, its girth and sudden presence shoving aside the nearby tables and shelves and knocking a bunch of pots and pans from their hooks.

“I’m sorry, I was thinking about myself this whole time,” Nay said.

Nom, startled, approached the massive crab claw.

“For the love of all that is precious,” Nom said. “Why did you take the entire claw? Do we plan on trying to sell all the Marrow?”

“Are you crazy?” Nay said. “We’re not Marrow Dealers! Besides, in order to be successful at that enterprise, we’d probably have to be on the Peninsula, where we would be hunted like chemistry teachers turned meth dealers or the charming but scummy lawyers helping them.”

“Huh?”

“Nevermind,” Nay said. “I took the whole claw because I was in a hurry. An ice troll was trying to kill me. So I just shoved it in my inventory. Any other questions?”

“Yeah, where’s the Old Bay at?”

Turned out she was hogging most of that delicious Northeastern seasoning in her inventory. She retrieved a shaker of it for him and went back to assembling her fried Marrow of the Mewlipped Tode sandwich.

While she put down a nice leaf of icethaw lettuce on a homemade brioche bun, and scooped multiple dollops of the tartar sauce on the other half, Nom had gotten a huge pot of water boiling and was in the process of breaking off part of the Caraxian claw.

Nay placed the golden, crispy filet onto the bed of tartar sauce and then topped it with the other bun with the lettuce, completing the Marrow sandwich. Light motes floated out of the center of the sandwich.

Nay grabbed the work of art with both hands. “Down the hatch!”

She shoved as much of the sandwich as she could into her mouth and bit down. The beer batter was the perfect crunchy touch to the sandwich. She envisioned herself biting into edible gold glass. That was the effect. It was followed by the juiciness of the Marrow and it was probably the best faux fish filet sandwich she had ever had. The creaminess and tang of the tartar sauce, coupled with the fresh dill, really brought the bite to another level.

Bursts of light and magical text soon followed.

---

[Marrow Consumed!]

[Frog Leg Marrow of the Mewlipped Tode]

[Frog Leg Marrow of the Mewlipped Tode has already been used for Tongue of the Hierophant]

[Would you like to unlock Marrow Ability for Bladegland off Icescythe Y/N?]

[Delicacy: Bladegland of Icescythe]

[Opening Delicacy Tree]

[Marrow Abilities 1/12]

---

She mentally clicked on the ‘Y’.

Opening Ability Tree for the Delicacy: Bladegland of Icescythe.

The diorama of the human digestive system spread across her HUD, rotating. All the organs surrounded in a white aura with cubes rotating next to them, indicating open ability slots.

One was already filled, which represented her Decapitate Ability.

You have eleven open slots in this Ability Tree. You have consumed Frog Leg Marrow of The Mewlipped Tode. It has syncretized into the Salvo of Knives ability. Would you like to use a slot for Salvo of Knives? [Y/N?]

She accessed the description for the ability.

Salvo of Knives. Instantly throw both your weapons at target. A successful hit with dagger amplifies weapon damage. All other successful hits with other weapons stay at base weapon damage.

The ranged attack is also accompanied by a cluster of spirit knives that causes area of effect damage. Weapons return back to hands after a hit or miss. Cooldown is 30 seconds.

“Nice,” Nay said. “An AOE attack.”

Nom, upending almost the whole shaker of Old Bay into the pot with the crab Marrow, said, “That’s something when dealing with multiple opponents…or monsters.”

“I know that,” Nay said. “I don’t need your mansplaining.”

“Tentacle-splaining.”

“I’m not a virgin when it comes to video games.”

She chose ‘Y’ and as the Salvo of Knives ability became a part of her, she went and laid down on the floor underneath the table and got ready for the three-hundred and sixty degree vision effect to run its course. Every time she ate a Marrow, she got that glimpse of being connected to some presence that was greater than her. That sensation of being tethered to something sentient and significant.

It was here again, and she tried to perceive its nature. She drifted into her Spirit Song breathing technique to cycle vigor and she tried to see this presence with her True Eye. She got a glimpse of gold light but then it disappeared. Her vision returned back to normal.

As she recovered from the spiritual experience, Nom pulled the Crab Claw Marrow of the Caraxian Crab out of the boiling water. Motes of red light were buzzing around the claw and the kitchen was filled with the aroma of Old Bay seasoning.

While the Marrow had been boiling, Nom had made a huge bowl of clarified butter. The clear, yellow liquid would create the perfect dip for the crab meat.

He didn’t even wait for the claw to cool. He cracked open the shell with a mallet and then shoved the entire top of his head into the cracked shell. He bit off some tender white meat and then dunked his beak into the bowl of clarified butter. He let out a little gasp at what was surely an intense flavor of crab meat and butter. His entire body flared with a red lava light glow.

The tentacle dove back into the claw, head-first, ripping at the flesh and then dunking the meat. Clarified butter splashed everywhere.

“Jesus, Nom,” Nay said. “I was gonna say we need to get you a bib, but it looks like we should have covered the floor in a plastic sheet.”

Between bites he said, “I haven’t seen plastic in this world, yet.”

After a few minutes, he lied on the floor next to Nay and swathes of gold were rippling through him.

Nay waited a minute and then said, “So, what ability did you just get?”

He sat up and closed his Cyclopean eye for a minute. He waved two of his green protuberant fins and a bar top table materialized out of thin air. A sign hung in mid-air over the table. In ostentatious tavern scrawl, it said ‘Nom’s Salty Bevs & Brews’. On one side was what looked like a medieval homebrewing kit. Alchemical with tubes and different sized glass jars and containers. And there were beer and ale bottles with different labels.

Nay sat up and examined it all in awe.

One of the ale bottles was labeled, ‘Voidbringer Lambic.’ And there was a Hounds of Tindalos brewer logo. It was an illustration of Nom holding a mug of frothy beer, protuberances outspread in a welcoming gesture. On the other side there was a frosty mug of what looked like a slushie. It was green and there was a slice of pineapple perched on the rim. There was a label, ‘Restorative Smoothie.’

“Holy shit dude!” Nay said. “You can summon a table full of your own brewed beer and cocktails!”

“It’s not a cool combat skill like you’ve been getting,” Nom said, “but it’s still a quality of life ability when it comes making food.”

“Are you kidding me?! This is cool as shit! You’re like an instant bartender now!”

“I mean, it’s okay.”

“Are you jealous I have a combat skill tree?”

“Yes, I am jealous! The next Delicacy that unlocks a combat skill tree is mine!”

“I’m okay with that.”

At that moment, Quincy came through the kitchen doors and stopped in his tracks. His eyes went from the oversized crab Marrow just sitting there in the middle of the kitchen to Nay and Nom lying underneath the table in all their post-Marrow consumption hangover.

It was akin to wandering into one’s kitchen at midnight and seeing a couple of stoners with the munchies raiding the fridge. It was just undignified.

“Nether hells,” Quincy said. “Put that stuff away. We’re gonna get raided.”

“Relax,” Nom said. “There’s no DMA agents in Lucerna’s End.”

“Still!” Quincy said. “It makes me nervous having a Marrow the size of a fauglir just lying in the middle of the kitchen and leftover Marrow in the pans!”

“Do you want some?” Nay said. “I’m sorry, I’ve been so selfish. I didn’t consider that you might want some.”

“My skill trees are full,” Quincy said. “I’d have to reset if I wanted to consume any more Delicacies or Marrow.”

“Reset?” Nay said. “Is that possible?”

“At Bronze rank it is. But it’s also extremely expensive and can set a Marrow Eater back not just in finances, but in time and power. It’s wiping the slate clean and returning to zero skill trees.”

“Damn,” Nom said. “Seems like resetting could leave one pretty vulnerable.”

“Exactly,” Quincy said. “Those with the resources and need to reset make sure they have their feasts prepared and ready. And even then, they’re still in a weakened state for a number of days.”

Quincy, irritated, waved his hands at the mess. “Now clean this up before Gracie gets back from the market!”

He exited the kitchen, leaving the doors swinging on their hinges.