Racing past the rocky stones of the mountain, Wesley ran in his blackened wolf form deep into the tunnels of the Zujiuchu Mountains. He steered clear of any merchants or travelers, not wanting to frighten them with his monstrous wolf form. Wesley dipped into their shadows whenever he came past them and jumped out on the other side, continuing his race to the Baltil city. When he finally arrived at the massive dwarven city, he transformed back into his humanoid form, the collar around his neck morphing back into his clothes and backpack. Excitement glittered in his eyes as he practically skipped into the newfound city. Half of his thrill came from the new location, but more so from his recent success in the culinary arts.

After endless days of trial and error, of burnt screaming goldfish and the taste of failure, he had finally made recipes out of the abnormal monstrous goldfish plant! Grabbing a map from some tourist stall, he searched around with a jump in his step for this Aldebrandt clan. He had to ask around after getting a bit lost but the dwarven people were friendly and directed him to a small building carved into the cavern walls with a symbol above the door. The symbol was a crossed torch with a flaming sword, the same that Myouga had described. He walked up to the door and awkwardly knocked on it, silently hoping that somebody was inside.

“Hello? Is anybody there? I’m looking for someone named Idris.” He said, realizing he couldn’t remember if Myouga had told him if this person was a dwarf or human.

All he knew, was this man dressed with pizazz. Whatever that meant. Wesley had the recipes prepared in his bag, along with bringing some of the extra goldfish plants with him to demonstrate to Myouga on how to cook it. Though, he was careful to gag the fish before he left. Unfortunately keeping it alive and fresh before cooking was necessary. But it was hidden away in his bag and wouldn't be revealed until he was ready to demonstrate its preparation. 

Unlike the preconceived notions of dwarves, the Aldebrandt clan were neither smiths, masons, or warriors. Instead they fulfilled a much more mundane role: performing routine safety inspections for the mines and mapping out the winding underground caverns. The clan was known for producing generations of excellent guides and adventurers which reflected their clan's symbol. Their keen understanding of their surroundings and practical knowledge made them invaluable for spotting danger and preventing accidents. When Wesley knocked, the door opened not long after by a stout middle-aged dwarf wearing goggles and his beard separated into two braided twists. "Oh hello there! You're looking for Idris, are you? I'm afraid he isn't in at the moment–he sent word that he should be arriving sometime today. And who might you be?"

He seemed unfazed by Wesley's presence, so it made sense that Idris probably knew a lot of non-dwarves. "Come inside and have a seat. Today's a slow day and I've just about finished up." Inside was an office with a few benches near the door and a small stove off to the side used to boil water or warm up some drinks on cold nights. There was a large desk with many official looking papers and tools before a plush armchair that had been pushed back likely when the dwarf had gone to answer the door. Some jars of rocks and soil were also by the tools on the desk with numbers on labels. Now back inside, the dwarf removed his goggles and organized the clutter on his desk before checking a grandfather clock in the corner. 

Fortunately for Wesley, he didn't need to wait long as after some small talk the door swung open forcefully and a tall man with pale hair and an ebony complexion strode in. Long silver-white hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail over a tailored longcoat detailed in embroidery as heeled boots clicked against the polished floor. When the dwarf and the stranger's eyes met, the latter threw his arms out wide with a smile. "UNCLE!" The middle-aged dwarf did the same, grinning so hard his beard seemed to split. "NEPHEW!" The two then ran to embrace each other, with the dwarf jumping and tackling his nephew to the ground causing him to let out a yelp. "Ah where've you been?! Feels like ages since you've been back from that school down south! This here lad's looking for you." 

Idris got to his feet then turned to give Wesley a bow with a flourish. "Idris Aldebrandt, at your service. So you've heard of me? To whom do I owe the pleasure for the referral?" His uncle meanwhile was trying to stifle a laugh at his nephew's antics, disguising it as a sudden bout of coughing. 

To his luck, Idris seemed to be visiting that day. Perhaps the goddess of fortune was smiling down on him? What surprised Wesley was the fact that Idris was neither a dwarf nor short. He knew that there was a chance the stranger would be a regular man… but not a tall dark elf! The reuniting between nephew and uncle was sweet, with an adorable embrace that came straight out of a fairytale. A small smile appeared on his face as he watched the two. The nephew suddenly shifted in behavior once he realized they weren’t alone and quickly gave a polite bow to Wesley.

“Oh um, hi. I’m Wesley.” He said quickly, giving an awkward bow back. “Myouga told me I could contact you to meet up with her. You see I’ve been working on a recipe for her using this…”

With a dramatic pause, Wesley reached into his bag and pulled out a living goldfish plant. It had a large bundle of cloth shoved into its mouth to shut it up but like most of her monstrous plants, it was eternally screaming. The plant thing was still in its pot and clearly cared for carefully so it wouldn’t die. He needed fresh ingredients if he was to show Myouga his work properly.

“I made some new ways to cook it and wanted to share it with her so she’d be able to sell the…. Plants… better.” He explained further as if the truth wasn’t horrifying enough on its own. 

Idris' smile faltered the moment Wesley pulled out that thing. A look of abject horror came over the half-elf and his dwarven uncle as a giant goldfish the size of a melon wobbled about on a thick vibrant green stem. Their expressions deepened even further when Wesley explained that he intended to cook the thing. Although seeing fish heads didn't make him queasy, Idris wasn't sure he'd be able to stomach eating anything made from it now that he knew what it was like 'raw'. There was no way out now. Since he admitted his identity, it was too late to make a break for it. Trying his best to recover his earlier bravado, Idris dared to pop the question. "Haha…so what kind of recipes did you come up with?" He immediately regretted this, at this point he was just digging himself deeper. Meanwhile his uncle was peering at the monstrous creature sprouting from the pot.

If it weren't for the goggles over his eyes, it'd be clear the dwarf was eyeing it like some horrifying cave crawler. Neither the uncle or nephew had any faith that the 'plant' would sell as is. "Well uh, the stove's all yours." The middle-aged dwarf replied, still positioning himself a step behind his half-elf nephew. The small stove in the office was clean and unlit with an empty steel kettle sitting on the top. Below was a place to light a fire and insert coal or firewood, protected by a sturdy latched metal grate. It wasn't big enough to heat the whole office but it was handy for reheating food and making coffee during long hours of work. 

"All sorts." Wesley calmly explained, "I've been exploring unique ingredients and challenging myself to see if I can cook them."

When offered the stove, he walked up to it and began preparations. The stove was a bit small and there wasn't much in the way of tools. Luckily, he brought his own, much to the misfortune of the dwarf and Idris. 

"Why don't I just show you?" Wesley offered, oblivious to their terrified expressions. 

He pulled out the necessary cooking tools from his bag and placed the fish on his cutting board. He began by chopping off the stalk of the goldfish, finally freeing the poor creature from being melded to the flower. After a muffled screech from the suffering creature, Wesley carefully sliced open the stalk and with a spoon, began removing the inner part of the plant. He ground it up in a bowl for later then began cooking the fish. He sliced open the fish, finally killing it, and used the crushed stalk powder along with other spices as a way to help him cook it on the stove. Afterward, he used the remains of the stalk as a plate decoration to go along with the fish. The room smelled of fish, basil and parsley. Wesley proudly placed the plate on the table.

"Honestly it wasn't that hard," Wesley explained with a proud little smirk. "The fish part is the easy section. The difficult one was figuring out how to use the stalk, but I think it came together." 

He had a feeling Myouga would have many more fish for him to demonstrate his abilities. It was more important to get these two on his side for this, if he ever had hopes of getting them sold in the first place. He handed both of them a fork and smiled gently to them. 

"I know the ingredients are unique but I hope you'll be willing to try them?" 

His voice was as sweet as summer rain and his eyes were wide like a begging puppy's. It was an old strategy he used for his girlfriend and he silently prayed it would get them to try out the meal. Just one bite was all he needed…

Having seen the whole process from start to finish, it was impossible for him to unsee it. Idris stared at what looked deceptively like ordinary seasoned fish on a plate, images of it still wobbling on a stem flashing by. The back of his neck went cold as this moment reminded him of one time he crashed at a Vilpamolan dive bar and one of the patrons sitting next to him had a martini with an unusually colored olive that resembled an eyeball. As he was experiencing flashbacks, his uncle had begun gradually moving behind him step by step, gradually inching closer to the office door. With no way out, the half elf let out a nervous chuckle. "Hahaha…can't look a gift horse in the mouth, can I?" At the end it was difficult to tell if he was crying or laughing at his fate. Idris pulled out a bottle of ale to brace himself and poured himself a glass, downing it in one gulp. He then picked up the fork and reluctantly put a piece of fish into his mouth. 

It's just fish. It's just fish! Yes, totally normal fish! Don't think about it, don't think about it!

The half-elf's eyes were starting to glaze over as he swallowed the mouthful and a small tear formed in the corner of his eye. He washed it down with another glass of ale, and shoved in another mouthful. He could still see the wobbling fish-on-a-stalk despite all his efforts. "It's good. It's…really good!" Idris sniffled. He took the bottle of ale and began pouring it onto the fish before taking another bite. At this point it no one knew if it was tears of sorrow or tears of joy. "Now, now Idris–you can't just drown everything in ale." The old dwarf had mustered up some courage after seeing his nephew marinate the dish post-completion. Carefully taking a piece that had escaped the alcoholic baptism, he pushed up his goggles and furrowed his brows as he chewed in contemplation. In spite of its resemblance to fish, the cooked goldfish plant was milder than river trout, emphasizing the herb seasoning. With a texture like this it could absorb any kind of sauce or spice well. "Hm, not bad. A bit on the lighter side for me, a spoon of butter or gravy would make it an in-between snack."  

Wesley watched the both of them with sparkling excited eyes. He had his little notebook and quill out, prepared to take down immediate notes and record their reactions. Everything else in the world faded away. The only thing that mattered at that moment was their reactions. After watching them consume very bit, he listened intently to their words. He wrote down the suggestion of butter or gravy to add as an afternoon snack.

"Thanks for taste-testing it for me," Wesley said with a smile. "Besides myself, nobody else but you guys have had any. I appreciate all the advice you can give." 

Setting down his notebook, he reached into his bag and brought out little wrapped honey sticks and offered one to each. Mostly as a reward for consuming the terrifying meal he'd given to them. 

"I don't plan on stopping with the goldfish plants either." He explained with an excited grin, "Just think! So many foods exist out there that people are too afraid to eat. You could come up with entirely new exotic meals. Like roasted scorpions or grilled kelpie or boiled mimics! People already hunt down these creatures anyways so why should we let these materials just be tossed aside?" 

Enthusiasm sparkled in his eyes as he spoke. It was almost a shame to ruin his little fantasy.

"That's why I wanted to start with the goldfish plant. If I can make a tasty meal from that, then anything is possible!"

Both Idris and his uncle eagerly accepted the honey sticks to put the bizarre dish behind them, the half-elf practically wringing his down to the very last drop. The middle-aged dwarf savored it one small mouthful at a time as he listened to Wesley ramble on enthusiastically, giving supportive nods every now and then. He was no stranger to the situation as his half-elf nephew did the same decades ago when he brought home some extra samples of his graduation alchemy project–chewable gummy sweets with a drop of chilled liquor perfectly preserved inside each one of them. Idris' attention had drifted elsewhere halfway, picking up something about cooking kelpie, scorpions, and mimics. Licking his lips of the last bit of honey, he replied: "Scorpions are a bit on the daring side, but seaweed sounds like a good side dish!" He couldn't picture how anyone could eat a mimic though. In his mind it would be like eating a wooden box.

Looking up at him his uncle blinked a few times before correcting him. "Aren't kelpies like horses but in bodies of water?" Aquatic creatures weren't exactly common in Baltil, but he had seen and heard enough from published records from adventuring expeditions to know what they were. "So like sea horses?" He asked. His uncle slowly shook his head. "No…" A desperate need for a bestiary refresher aside, neither of them were opposed to Wesley's unconventional ideas. "Hmm, seems like I can pass on the good news to Professor Ryou. I'm sure she'll be absolutely delighted with the results! It'll be a few days until I head over to Nisshoki; I've got a dozen relatives to meet and twice as many souvenirs to hand out. Oh, if you're staying, I suggest trying the spiced mead at the Old Forge Tavern. It's a classic and a must for every new tourist to Baltil. There's plenty of smaller inns with their own seasonal brews, but there's no such thing as a bad drink in these stone halls!"