The following morning, Beth woke up a little earlier than usual, thanks to a stabbing pain in her chest. She was experiencing the onset of a heart attack, but this wasn't the first time; in fact, it wasn't even the first time this month. The thing with Beth was despite her rough and tough exterior, she's gotten pretty good at hiding away her weaknesses over the years. While there aren't many, when it comes to what hinders someone, any number more than zero is less than ideal. One of her few vulnerabilities lies behind the amulet she wears around her neck, and one of the others comes in the form of the mild to moderate heart attacks she suffers if she doesn't consume a rare consumable called Vitality on a regular basis. Regarding the scarce product, there is no real science behind it, and she had easily gone a few days without taking it (four being the max), and during that time, she didn't experience even the slightest discomfort in her chest. She elected to take small doses of it, and she tried to do it daily just to ensure that she remembered; otherwise, she ran the risk of dropping dead when she was out and about, alone on one of her runs.
The thing about Vitality is the aforementioned rarity of the necessary concoction. There's only one shop in the world that sells it, and it's in Endover, quite the trek from Beth's hometown, spawning at least three days on horseback with minimal resting; five days if traveled at an average pace. Endover is nothing spectacular, just a small town with a few unique artisan shops. It's been quite the go-to place for those who like nature-based things such as flowers, candles, crystals, and other witchy-type items. For Beth, however, it's where she goes to get Vitality. There is an old man named Dr. Bragg who runs a small shop that sells faux medicines, snake oils, and mostly novelty potions that travelers just love to buy up and take home to their families as souvenirs. But before Cornelious Bragg opened Dr. Bragg's Anomalies and Oddment Emporium, he was just a simple traveling doctor. He would go from town to town, curing simple things like the typical headache or common stomach bug. Bragg was good at what he did, and it was rewarding work, but at the same time, it was also simple and boring. The older he got, the harder it was for him to travel the countryside via his horse-drawn carriage, so with the money he had saved up, he bought a home in Endover and opened Dr. Bragg's Anomalies and Oddment Emporium. As mentioned, most of his concoctions are harmless mixtures like rosewater and ginseng leaves. Still, among these misleading medicines, he has one potion that is worth its weight in gold, especially to Beth, Vitality.
Acquiring it on either end of the counter is no easy feat as for the person procuring it, a somewhat archaic technique is used, which converts the mixture into the form of a consumable liquid. Luckily for Beth, she did Dr. Bragg a favor way back in year one of her life, and in return, he saved her life, time and time again.
Soon after emerging from the cave, she woke up in on day one, she came across a much younger Cornelius Bragg and his traveling medical wagon. The terrain in that area was anything but forgiving, and Bragg had only made it so far in before one of the wheels on his escort shattered. When the wagon hit the ground, it frightened his horse which in turn ran off. Beth witnessed all this, and despite not knowing the man or having any reason to help him, she felt obligated to. After a few hours of searching the nearby surroundings, she was able to locate the good doctor's steed and lead it back to the scene of the accident. While she was out searching for the horse, Cornelious prepared a meal at a campfire. It was some river hog steaks, sauteed green onions, and butter-boiled potatoes. Beth thoroughly enjoyed her first meal and even capped it off with a redberry pocket pie, one of the doctor's favorite sweet treats.
After the delicious food, the newly acquainted duo shifted their attention toward the wagon repair. Not having much knowledge of anything, Beth, who was nameless at the time, didn't know what to do about the wheel, but fortunately, Bragg had a spare. Despite having appointments, he wasn't in the biggest hurry to leave as he felt intrigued by the strange-looking woman's friendly presence. Once the repairs were made and the traveling medicine man was ready to get back on the road, Beth felt a sharp pain growing in her chest, which radiated into her arm and even down her leg. The stabbing sensation in her ribs was so intense she couldn't even cry out for help. She collapsed to the ground in excruciating pain, and luckily for her, she did it before the doctor left.
Bragg quickly rushed to her side and tried various techniques to help her, but nothing was working. Finally, running out of ideas, something in the back of his mind told him to inject her with an untested solution he had been experimenting with. It was the prototype of the compound that would later be perfected and rebranded as Vitality. He injected it straight into her chest via a syringe and waited. It didn't take her long to stabilize, but she remained unconscious. Noticing that his prototype appeared to work, he left her a note on how to administer it, along with a case containing all that he had. Inside the case was a map of his route for when she needed to find him in the future to re-up. He wanted to stay by her side, but he had appointments to make, appointments that could mean life or death for dozens of other patients he was scheduled to visit in the coming days.
Over the first few years, Beth injected the Vitality straight into her chest, a necessary habit she quickly grew to hate. Thankfully, after kicking the last vial in her supply, Dr. Bragg had good news for her when she finally sought him out. He had perfected the brew, and it was now a semi-tasty drink. Beth thought it tasted like blood and strawberries, but it was a thousand times better than jamming a needle into her ribs all the time. Since it was her condition that inspired Bragg to finalize the concoction, he always gave her the best deal that he could on the product, even though if she showed up on his doorstep dying, he would save her in a heartbeat and send her packing with another free case. Beth knew that Vitality wasn't easy to procure and didn't want to take it for free, especially from an elderly man—she was more than happy to pay what he asked. Thankfully, today, Bragg has an adult son and young grandson who help make Vitality, as the process is tricky. Long ago, before Beth, Cornelious created a mechanical device called a bleeder, which looked like a light bulb with a series of hypodermic needles at the base. The bleeder can be placed on the head of an animal; the larger, the better, and it extracts a chemical that the brain produces when it is overstimulated. To simulate this, the animals are either chased, scared, or sometimes mildly shocked, which in turn forces their brains to secrete a biochemical called vigor, which is the main ingredient in Vitality. It's archaic and borderline animal abuse, but unlike poachers, the Bragg family constantly feeds the donor well and lets the animal return to the wild after the procedure. Once the vigor is extracted, the bulb fills up, and the bleeder is removed, the animal will be one hundred percent fine within a matter of a few hours. That was it—that was how Beth learned she needed this stuff to keep her ticker—ticking.
With the cardiac arrest scare out of the way, Beth went on her way to check in on her new acquaintance. Before heading up the stairs of the inn, she stopped by Nestor, the innkeeper, to see how the night went. "I hope he didn't cause any problems; I haven't really been able to break through and communicate with him yet," she explained.
The following morning, Beth woke up extra early to check on her new acquaintance. Before heading up the stairs of the inn, she stopped by Nestor, the innkeeper, to see how the night went. "I hope he didn't cause any problems; I haven't really been able to break through and communicate with him yet," she explained.
"No problem at all; in fact, I nearly forgot he was here."
When she left him yesterday, he was staring at himself in a tall, ornate mirror in the corner of the room she rented out for her guest. She knocked on the door twice, waited a moment, and then left herself in, finding the mysterious traveler in the same exact place he was yesterday. "Did you even get any sleep last night?" she asked. He didn't respond, but he turned to acknowledge her arrival. "Do you even sleep at all?"
Still not getting too far on the communicative front, Beth led the enigmatic wanderer back to her personal little slice of paradise, the White Moon Café. Her ragtag batch of employees were just starting to take care of breakfast preparations when they walked in the back door. The five-member staff would traditionally meet out back in a small fenced-in patio area to grab a morning bite before opening the doors to the public. Arvid, a short, burly man with a fiery temper as hot as his red hair and beard, fired up the grill in the kitchen.
Meanwhile, the host and Beth's right-hand woman, Harper, poured glasses of pom juice for her coworkers. Poms natively grew around Crest Town, and while they weren't the tastiest of fruits, Beth figured out a way to turn them into a delicious drink a few years ago; she oftentimes credits her success starting after the now-local-favorite beverage hit the menu. As for Harper, she stood out from the other residents quite considerably. Not only was she tall for a woman, she was tall for anyone. Standing a towering seven foot three inches, her thin yet complimented frame still resembled that of a model. Her hair was long, straight, and as vibrant as the golden marigolds that grew in the valley. Like Beth, her skin was also different than others, but not in the same way as her employer and best friend. Instead, Harper's skin was a very pale blue but would change to a pale red when frightened or ill. On a few occasions, like her birthday last year, a pleasant surprise caused her hue to take on a brighter yellow tone, almost matching her hair, even if it was only for a few seconds. Some residents even started calling her 'Mood Ring' due to her unique talent.
After Beth, Arvid, and Harper, there was Justice, a young teen girl who generally kept to herself and just so happened to be quite a wizard when it came to baked goods. She's ordinarily recognized by the brown cloak worn on a daily basis and her short, dark purple hair. And finally, there was Pax, a grotesque little hog-like man known for being lazy but possessing a rather kind heart. Fittingly, he was responsible for washing dishes and taking out the trash, jobs that seemed to fit perfectly with his piggish demeanor. It didn't bother him none, as he was happiest at his dirtiest.
Once the daily employee breakfast concluded, Justice fired up the old bean grinders and prepared the coffee while Harper opened the doors, letting the day's first few customers stagger in.
"Good morning," she said with a glowing smile, addressing each one as they passed her. The smell of the roasting coffee permeated the air, a scent that all the White Moon workers enjoyed. To most, coffee was just coffee, but for Beth, any regular cup of joe wouldn't cut it. This led to her saddling up her horse and wagon and visiting Mainzer Hill once every two months, high up in the mountains, just to purchase the most exemplary coffee beans she had ever come across. Her connection was a solitary monk named Jobe. Turns out Jobe is the last of his kind and continues to grow the legendary beans that his order had perfected centuries ago. Beth did him a favor a few years back and instead of payment, she asked if he would agree to supply her some of his prized crop. Initially reluctant, he would eventually grant her request and make her the first and only person that the Kalcutta Order of Monks ever let leave Mainzer Hill with the fabled seeds.
However, while the staff and customers reveled in the robust aroma of the "Kalcutta" coffee, the mystery man didn't seem to share in their jubilation for the foreign smell. His disdain for the breakfast aromatics is eventually quelled, but Beth did notice him rear back ever-so-slightly once the scent of the freshly roasted beverage hit the air. Regardless, after a few moments, he seemed to all but forget the smell, or he just became more passive over his dislike of it; either way, he appeared enthralled with the unfolding café service before him.
Once the influx of morning patrons made their way to the café's limited seating, Harper and Beth noticed an even longer line of customers waiting to come in and get served. While this would be ideal for any business, White Moon Café wasn't known for having the best grill service, making busy pops like the one they were facing create a rather taxing challenge for the staff.
Arvid manned the grill, frying dozens of eggs, hashed potatoes, slabs of pork belly, mountains of julienned onion bulbs, and river rat scrapple. The scrapple wasn't a top seller, but it was a favorite among many of Crest Town's elderly demographic.
Over half a century ago, a great plague fell upon the village crops, and the townsfolk adopted budget-friendly meals to survive. While most of the recipes had faded into forgotten obscurity, one that stuck around was River Rat Scrapple. Justice did her best to keep up pancakes, toasted bread, and griddle patties down the line from where Arvid was working. Pax slowly, yet steadily, would bust the empty tables, occasionally sneaking mouthfuls of scraps left over from the customers before sending their dirty plates into the sink for washing. Harper maintained a steady pace, seating and greeting everyone who came in, while Beth bounced back and forth to the kitchen and dining room, doing everything she could to make this rush run as seamlessly as possible.
Nearly two hours into the day, Arvid began to struggle to keep up on the grill, as he often did when there were more than three or four orders to make. The truth of the matter was Arvid was more of a handyman than a chef, but the lack of someone to fill the position forced him to wield the spatula. Justice struggled to help her stout red-headed coworker, but her inexperience and age showed, and she ended up angering the sweaty little man instead.
Amidst all the quickly evolving chaos, the stranger remained calm, calculating, and observing everything going on around him. Being ever perceptive, his focus seemed to keep fluttering back to Arvid and the hodgepodge of partially and overcooked ingredients haphazardly sprawled across the grill.
"For shit's sake, will someone grab me more eggs!" the angered balding cook bellowed.
"On it," Justice brushed her charcoal-colored shoulder-length hair out of her face and sprinted to the storage room.
"Ramekins! I need ramekins, goddammit!" Arvid dumped the remaining bit of hashed potatoes onto the sizzling flat top. "Pax! Did you hear me? Ramekins!
With the café filled to capacity, new customers were requesting their food to go. That's when it dawned on Beth that today was the Art Festival in Haven, the next town over. If you were traveling from any of the mainlines, the easiest way to get to Haven was right through Crest Town. The rush was likely due to everyone taking advantage of her localized pricing, which would allow the art-goers to avoid paying for food with inflated festival prices.
"That's it! I can't take it! I need a smoke, or I will literally choke someone!" Arvid tossed the spatula into the air, tore off his apron, and stormed out back. While he was always a bit of a grump, walking off the line was rare for him. Panicked, Beth hurried to grill and tried to make sense of the pandemonium her ill-experienced cook had created on the flattop.
From the corner of the kitchen, the hooded figure watched as Beth began reading all of her and Harper's handwritten tickets containing the orders. "Oh geez," the worry was evident in her tone, "half of this stuff isn't even on the grill. Or, it's burnt to a crisp."
Frozen like a deer in a floodlight, Beth had no idea where to start as she was certain Arvid had gotten lost among the tickets so long ago that there was no rhyme or reason to what he was doing prior to storming off out back to smoke his harkweed. Harkweed was nothing crazy, just a robust coffee-like taste in the form of a smokeable cured and dried leaf. It wasn't for everyone, but it had its connoisseurs. Suddenly, Beth felt the presence of the wanderer beside her. Staring ominously at the handwritten slips of paper, he slowly began to shift them around. While doing this with one hand, he reached out to her with the other, seemingly asking for the spatula. Not sure what to make of his actions, she obliged his request and took a step back. After a few moments, the newcomer had organized the orders and the ingredients on the grill in a rather impressive manner. Once he had restored control, he turned back to Beth, who was at a loss for words.
"That is fantastic."
He didn't move.
"Do you think you could handle cooking for the day?" she asked, praying that he wouldn't say no.
Without hesitation, he turned back to the sizzling flattop and did as she asked. He wasn't perfect, but he was perfect enough. And a colossal upgrade to Arvid, who could now apply his skills to making repairs and helping out with other things a man of his strength and stature would be more suitable for. By the end of the day, the rookie cook did great. Harper and Beth even made enough tips that everyone, including the robed-one, received a bonus of coin after close.
"Thank you again for bailing us out," Beth said, lightly tapping the newcomer on the shoulder, to which he did not respond.
"Yeah, for a weirdo, you seem alright," Arvid added, "Ah hell, who I'm kidding? For getting me off that forsaken cook's line, I'd be your best friend if you wanted me to."
"So, what do you say? Same time tomorrow?" Beth asks with a hopeful grin and crossed fingers, not expecting a response. The figure lowered his head slightly and let out a rising guttural sigh. Nobody knew what it meant, but it seemed that their novice chef was happy to be part of the team, at least in his own melancholy way.