Dinner parties. Couldn’t say I’d hosted too many before. That would have involved, well, knowing how to cook. Nothing like a new life on a new planet to make up for lost time, though.

After thinking through some possible menus, I scheduled the party for the following week and invited Emin and Alara. Seeing as I’d never really hung out with Verin at the same time as the others, I debated whether to invite her as well, especially considering the fact that she shied away from Alara. On top of that, I wasn’t exactly sure anything I cooked would be up to snuff for the high noble. In the end, though, I went ahead with it. It was my dinner party, after all, and I wanted my friends to be there.

All in all, I envisioned it as a very casual affair. A few light dishes to show off, a little relaxing over some wine. Maybe we’d head out to a bar afterwards if everyone had time.

Unfortunately, I was mistaken.

The first snag came from Alara, a few days after I’d invited her. She’d caught me on the tail end of The Art of Dueling, slapping me on the shoulder with a wide grin.

“PPG! I am to inform you that Uncle Ty wishes to make the journey to your home with me. He said it has been too long since he’s seen your grandfather outside of work, and that he would enjoy stealing a bite of your cooking if he is allowed to do so!”

Despite Alara’s “Uncle Ty” being a full-on chamber head, that in and of itself wasn’t a big deal. The nice thing about cooking for a group was that preparing one extra portion of something was essentially no extra work. If the two old chamber heads wanted to catch up, that was none of my business in any case.

Just to make sure Suds wasn’t blindsided, though, that night I caught him in his office and told him about my dinner party plans, simultaneously letting him know that Tyrin’Aren had asked to drop in to say hi.

The wide smile he displayed made me think he was excited to catch up with someone I assumed he was on good terms with. As that smile widened further into an almost cheshire-like grin, on the other hand, I almost expected Detect Trap to go off and let me know I’d done something wrong.

“Sounds lovely!” He threw his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair, using his feet and the desk to balance himself. Raising his voice into a full-on shout, he called out: “Markus! We’re over in the study!”

The clack of footsteps coming up the stairs announced the impending arrival of the majordomo. Looking somewhat alarmed at the unexpected summons, he eyed both of us warily. “You called?”

Suds motioned to me and waved his hand in a “go ahead” sort of gesture. “Why don’t you just tell Markus what you told me, hmm?”

Despite feeling a bit flustered, I did as requested.

“Um. I’m inviting some friends over for a little dinner party? Just Emin, Alara, and Verin. Apparently Alara’s uncle wants to stop and say hi too.” I supposed it was good to keep Markus in the loop, although the whole point of throwing a dinner party by myself was that I expressly didn’t want any help. The whole “look at what I did!” factor would have been somewhat diminished if I leaned too heavily on outsider help.

“I… see,” he returned. “You’ve invited the Lady Verin over… and one of the other chamber heads.” Markus opened and closed his mouth a few times before settling on his next words. “How lovely. Might I ask, what date will they be arriving?”

In a decidedly Emin-like fashion, I rubbed at the back of my head, sensing that I may have done something wrong. “Uh. Like, three days from now?”

Markus seemed to visibly age before me, letting out a bone-dry sigh. “How… delightful. Unrelatedly, Suds, you wouldn’t happen to be training the young one to follow in your footsteps, would you? She seems to be — how do I put this — taking some of your more interesting qualities on.”

Suds’ shit-eating grin rapidly morphed into a mask of innocence. “Me? Haven’t the foggiest idea of what you could possibly mean. Isn’t that nice, though? Now you get to deal with two of me!”

Even decades of service and a Rare majordomo class wasn’t enough for Markus to keep a straight face at that. He looked to both of us with an instant of exasperated dread, though ever so barely, I detected a gentle upwards quirk to his lips.

It was then that he turned to fully face me, his tense posture somehow setting off my danger sense.

“Very well then, Lady Tess. Let us talk about what preparations need to be made in the span of three days. Ah! And what a perfect opportunity to continue our talks on politics. This time around, let’s discuss the ramifications of exclusive private events between members of differing political factions, shall we? While we’re at it, I imagine you will be delighted to receive a few more etiquette lessons pertaining to dinner parties.”

He stared me down with saccharine as I groaned. Who would have thought cooking for my friends would have resulted in my least favorite activity?

Etiquette lessons.

Etiquette has reached level 7!

“All right, that’s enough of that for now. Let’s see, then.” Temporarily pausing from torturing me with etiquette lessons as I cooked, Markus ladeled a small taste’s worth of bright green sauce up to his mouth, taking a sip. Despite still being a bit peeved with me, his face lit up. “Oh, that’s quite nice, really!”

After a thorough tongue lashing about the “political ramifications” of inviting Verin to a private event with two chamber heads, and a much longer fuss-session about the proper preparations we’d need to make to host them, Markus had turned into my official taste-tester. The food, after all, had to be good enough not to disgrace the chamber’s hospitality, which meant he was deeply invested in making sure it turned out right.

“Right? It turned out even better than I expected.” It was an intensely herb-y sauce, the closest I could get to a creamy pesto with the ingredients I had at my disposal.

In an unexpected turn of events, all of my recent cooking was a touch better than I was used to, and the cause was likely the gloves of flame which presently crackled over my hands. While cooking, I’d cycled through the various mana types for my Gloves of the Arcanist, rapidly rewarding me with a new prompt.

Synergy detected! You have discovered a new aspect of your gloves!

Hot Plate Hands (Fire variant)

+5 to Cooking

Gain an innate sense of temperature. This applies to any flames or cookware you may use in addition to the internal and external temperature of any food you prepare.

Prepared food will retain a perfect temperature for up to one hour after being cooked, without any spoilage or loss of moisture.

Amplifies any buffs or positive effects gained from consuming your food.

Protects hands against all burns.

I wasn’t cooking anything with buffs, nor was the pesto sauce itself anything I needed to keep warm, but the jump to my level in Cooking was certainly appreciated. Furthermore, I knew the bonuses would come in handy for other parts of the meal.

While not the fanciest, I’d decided on a pasta dish for the entrée. In keeping with Sylum’s granular-food theme, the shape was akin to orzo as opposed to something larger like spaghetti.

After boiling it, the orzo was then thrown into a pan where it cooked a bit more in the pesto, some duck-like fat, and a bit of citrus. When finished, it was topped with a local cheese that had the rich and creamy feel of a mozzarella, but with a sort of goat-cheese-like tang. As a final touch, I also used a spice mix that was a blend between standard Sylum spices and herbs I’d grabbed from Emer’Thalis on my last trip. The plants there had a certain kick to them that I hadn’t been able to recreate here.

I probably could have tried something wilder. Something that would have felt “foreign” to everyone. That would have required that I’d have been good at cooking back on Earth, though. Frankly, while I’d made a point to eat a lot of different cuisines, left to my own devices, I’d been a ramen noodles and peanut M&M’s kind of person. Instead, I kept to something more local.

And it paid off!

Cooking has reached level 8!

After giving ample offerings to the official taste tester, the meal was finally done. I served it up in two tiny bowls, placed the cheese on top, and then sprinkled a final layer of herbs atop them. Without further ado, we dug in.

“I daresay this would not be out of place in a restaurant.” Markus delicately spooned measured portions of the pasta up to his face. Perhaps he was feeling a bit guilty at all the lecturing he’d just done, as his words were definitely a bit of an exaggeration: A single semester of cooking classes did not a professional chef make. Still, he wasn’t that far off. It was good!

“Now,” he said, setting the bowl down, “onto the other dishes, yes?”

I scarfed down the last of my bowl before letting out an herby-flavored sigh. That was another feature that stuck out about Sylum’s cooking: If you were doing it “properly,” there was never just one dish for dinner.

“All right, let’s get to it, then.”

Three days later, the fated day arrived. So too did the various guests.

Of the three parties invited, it was Alara and co. that showed up first, her uncle knocking on the door with the sort of Strength one would expect a Chamber Head of Adventure to have. The sound resounded through the entire house, leaving no room for doubt as to who was at the door.

As the host of the night, I answered the door, two toothy and carefree grins greeting me in turn.

“PPG! I am excited to eat with you tonight! If your cooking skills have advanced as much as your battle prowess this semester, I am certain it will be a feast to remember!” She stepped inside, embracing me with a spine-shattering hug while her uncle followed behind.

“My niece has the right of it. I’m sure the food will be delicious. Thanks for letting me tag along with Alara. It’s been a while, and I can’t say no to a good excuse to bug that old man of yours.” Thankfully for my back, he did not choose to further fracture my bones with a hug.

After expressing the standard words of welcome, I led the two into the house’s dining room — a scarcely used, almost vestigial part of the house seeing as we didn’t do family dinners normally — and it was here that Markus’s ministrations made themselves known. A host of various drinks sat atop a tray on a bar tucked into the corner. I’d mostly planned on just standing around and talking until everyone arrived, but the majordomo had been adamant that pre-meal apéritifs would be essential.

To his credit, things did feel much more natural with a glass in hand. I fielded a few innocuous questions from Tyrin’Aren until Suds noisily descended the stairs and locked eyes with his fellow chamber head.

“Tyrin! I was going to have a nice, quiet night in until I heard I’d have to keep an eye on you tonight,” he grumbled. “Now I’m going to have to stand around while you yammer on to the kids about monsters you fought decades ago, aren’t I?” He strode towards the chamber head of adventure with menace.

“Eh? I don’t take complaints from a glorified washing machine. Who’s supposed to fill their heads with tales of adventure, in any case? All you’re good for is telling them the best ways to remove different stains.” He raised himself up, seeming to relish the couple of inches he had on Suds.

When at last they met, the two squared off for a second. It was easy to forget with how much time I’d spent in the presence of Suds and the other heads, but as the air filled with palpable tension, I was reminded that both of them could wipe me off the map without a second thought.

For a brief moment, it seemed like the two would come to blows, the setting notwithstanding. They blurred towards one another, both shooting their arms out towards the other until-

“Good to see you, you crotchety bastard! Been a while, outside of work, at least.” Tyrin embraced Suds and vice versa, and it was a testament to the Washer Wizard’s level that he wasn’t snapped in two, as something told me Tyrin’s hug was a bit harder than Alara’s.

“That’s because you’re too busy stabbing things to remember to say hi without your favorite niece giving you a nudge, battle maniac. But it’s good to have you, even if I’m not tonight’s host.”

The two pulled away, and the last remnants of tension dissipated, conversation returning to normal until the next guest arrived.

As it happened, Emin and Verin appeared to have rolled in right at the same time. The first seemed nervous to even be standing next to the second, though the feeling only went one way.

“Lady Astorius. A pleasure to visit. It is good to see your Mana Shifted companion making an appearance as well.” She nodded towards Emin who seemed shocked to be acknowledged. “It will be enjoyable to compare experiences.”

His tongue seemingly lost, Emin looked back and forth between us as if looking for me to save him somehow. Instead, I chuckled as I invited the two in. “I’m sure Emin will talk your ear off about it if you can get him started.”

On bringing the two into the dining room, we were immediately hit with a shout. “Dark Plant Man! And Ic- Lady Verin! Welcome!” Alara downed a flute of whatever she’d been drinking and came over to pull Emin into a hug before bowing stiffly to Verin. Apparently she hadn’t forgotten Verin’s “no touching” rule.

“Lady Valis. Your restraint is appreciated. I look forward to dining with you tonight.” Verin eyed the woman skeptically as if she might pounce on her at any moment, but her words didn’t feel like a lie either.

I played host for a bit longer, making sure everyone was thoroughly engrossed in conversation before slipping away to the kitchen. My Gloves of the Arcanist came in handy here, as all the food I’d pre-prepared was in perfect condition. With everyone appropriately tipsy and well-acquainted, it was time to eat!

“...the concentration is really the key factor here. The modification I’m working on currently would allow the basic healing potions to be split and diluted into two or even three other potions at only a negligible loss of efficacy. Combined with the substitution of a few of the ingredients with longer growth cycles, we’d theoretically see the prices of basic potions drop by-”

Emin animatedly carried on, the reedy man somehow finding common ground with the Chamber Head of Adventure of all people. A few drinks and a question about health potions had been all it took, and Tyrin earnestly seemed enrapt. Whether he was secretly a nerd at heart, or his political status made the price of health potions extra relevant for him, I wasn’t sure.

A completely separate conversation was carried out to my side between equally unlikely partners.

“You are an artist!” Alara’s volume admittedly made it difficult for multiple conversations to be held around the table, but just barely, we managed.

“That is correct, Lady Valis. Mainly portraits and full-body sketches. Have you any interest in the visual arts? Or have you ever had yourself drawn?” Verin quirked a single brow upwards in question, and I found myself stifling a chuckle at how out of place her reserved motions looked aside Alara’s.

“I am afraid that art is a foe I have never succeeded in vanquishing, yet I appreciate it all the more for besting me! As to being sketched, I tried it only once! I did not enjoy the experience — the artist made me look soft and lacking in muscles.” Alara flexed, rendering her arm indistinguishable from solid stone. “I am not lacking in muscles.”

Verin stared at Alara’s arm for a good few seconds, likely either doing her best to be polite, or uncertain what to say from there. Eventually, she settled for a simple head nod. “I can see that, yes.”

All the talk about the table happened in between bites of what I hoped was a solid spread of food. Compliments abounded as each new plate was tried, and the speed at which things disappeared did well to convince me they were honest. The pasta, as it turned out, was a particular hit.

Just as the meal started to wind down, Tyrin’Aren pulled a large crate from a spatial item before slamming it down on the table. Four unmarked glass bottles sat within.

“All right kids. Us old-timers have bugged you all enough. Time for the old man and I to catch up a bit.” He removed one of the four bottles and whipped it towards Suds, causing it to hurtle across the table at beak-neck speeds.

Rather than physically catch it, the washer wizard summoned up a tendril of water which wrapped around it. Unfazed by the throw, he brought it close to his face.

“Hah! Bribing me with the good stuff, yeah? Fair enough.” He got up from the table along with Tyrin (who took another of the bottles for himself), turning my way. “Kid! Damned good meal. And if Tyrin’s leaving those other two bottles for the rest of you, let Markus know if one of you is about to die, yeah? Bad optics if one of you passes away in the house.”

With that, the two left the room, leaving the four of us staring at the remaining two bottles.

In the end, it was me who spoke up.

“If they each took a whole bottle for themselves, they can’t be that strong, can they?”

Drinking has reached level 9!

Gambling has reached level 2!

I liked dinner parties!

And winning!

Wasting no time at all, Alara had immediately procured a deck of cards before suggesting we play a few rounds. It was the game she’d been playing when we met, actually, though I had high hopes that the night wouldn’t end the same way this time around.

Instead of making monetary bets, she’d suggested we bet sips of the two bottles the chamber heads had left behind.

That may have been a mistake.

Not for me! I was doing great! I’d had a few liittttle sips here and there, but between my super high Luck and my newly level 2 Gambling skill, I’d brutally thrashed the other three. No contest.

The others had tried to team up on me, but if anything, their desire to beat me worked against them. Despite hitting their limits, they continued to play on in an effort to catch me up to them.

Eventually, however, they conceded the point that I was the gambler champion extraordinaire. Another massive win for the Chamber of the Commons.

We got to talking, and at some point Verin had pulled out her sketchbook, offering to give Alara a quick sketch. Her pencil flew across the page, but before she could finish the drawing, she paused, raising her hands up.

“I am feeling… hot.” A wave of frost radiated off of her, gently coating the four of us. “Hah. Better. And observe! Ice can dance, too.” A few larger spheres of ice formed around her head, bobbing and weaving about.

“Hah! A crown for the princess! It suits you!” Alara sat, holding her arms in a permanent flex for the sketch. Of the three of them, she seemed to be holding her liquor the best. Obviously not as well as I was, because I was definitely the best drinker, but it was close!

“I can-” Emin gently lurched forward as his body hit him with a solid hiccup. “I can do that.” Displaying a far better control over dark magic than I’d ever known he had, the researcher sent a tendril of darkness out from his hand. Motes of inky black joined in with the ice, creating a dizzying constellation.

Too dizzying, it seemed. The darkness petered out as Emin slumped back, draping himself over one of the couches.

It was at this moment that stomps came down the staircase, with Tyrin’Aren poking his head in soon thereafter. If he was shocked at all to see the frost, the floating ice, or his niece flexing at everyone, he didn’t show it.

“All right. I promised ‘Lara’s parents I’d bring her home when I left. Keep her from getting the rest of you kids into a bar fight or two.” He shot a pitying look at the prone form of Emin and amended himself. “And why don’t we take Mr. Health Potion over there to his home as well? Looks like he could use a little help.”

Emin burbled out a noise which was either an assent or a good sign that he needed to take them up on their offer regardless.

After goodbyes and goodbye hugs, the trio walked — or in Emin’s case, stumbled — out, leaving me with Verin.

“Nice friends,” she mumbled. “Good dinner.” She scooched closer and pointed a finger at the ice above her, and a few spheres tore themselves off to start revolving around my head.

Though it seemed that Verin wanted to keep the night going, her body betrayed her. Too tired to continue, she leaned against me, her eyes falling shut. The only sign that she was still awake was the ice, which was now entirely revolving around the two of us. Bit by bit, the revolutions slowed and slowed, until at last the spheres sank to the floor.

I considered moving to clean them all up before they melted, but didn’t bother. The sheer proximity to Suds meant that the whole house was essentially self cleaning, especially for something as simple as some melted ice.

Tuckered out and not wanting to disturb Verin, I quickly followed suit. With a full stomach, liver, and heart, I nodded off with one final thought.

That was a pretty good final exam, huh?