The Slime Farmer - 110 Lowpool Autumn

Defi didn’t show his wince as the mistress of the house tried to urge a cloth-wrapped bundle into his possession.

It was one and a half months after the blessing feast before Defi could gain a day that there was no one dropping by the homestead.

The blessing feast had, to the people of the town, acted like a formal introduction, after which seemingly half the town that peripherally knew him decided to get acquainted.

In return to their visits to the homestead, Defi spent a lot of time taking meals in other houses, giving away small return gifts, and getting to know the people better.

Added to the many things he already had to do now that his contract with Bluzand specified five barrels per type of vinegar a month instead of just samples, his free time for the last month and a half was limited.

Defi didn’t mind. He was used to social obligation and understood the importance of having a good reputation.

This place was after all, his first home in this world.

Sometimes, he was confused, however.

This day, after feeding the slimes, he came to pay a return visit to one of the men who helped set up the canopy-tents during the blessing feast.

He’d already stopped by their house with return gifts, as was custom for Ascharon; which was only the polite thing to do for those who visited to welcome him. According to Aire, that would be enough to end the obligatory ritual.

So, why were they giving him things again?

And after he’d made a request too.

Shouldn’t he be the one doing the gifting this time?

Defi really hoped this would not turn into the complicated dance of never-ceasing reciprocal gifting that Ontrea practiced. He wouldn’t be able to afford it.

“You are greatly generous, madame,” he tried to retreat without backing away from the determined wife of the household. “A lowly newcomer like me, how could I be worth the honor?”

“Oh, come, come, they are only things we have lying around.” Madame Mery pressed the package into his hands. “Take them without reserve.”

Defi glanced helplessly at the husband, hoping the man would stop his wife, or at least give him a cue on how to act. Was it polite to simply accept, or just refuse again?

But he’d especially brought spices from Bluzand to this household in addition to the return gifts, as he needed an introduction letter from the man.

The man was Toyne, an officer in the fisher’s guild. Defi did not want to offend the man or his wife as good relations with the guild meant that his pick of the sporadic sable crab catch could be assured. He only needed one crab every two months anyway.

He knew that in Zeretoyna, the country bordering one of Ontrea’s neighbors, the act of refusing gifts was more polite than accepting. But Aire had only told him about the return gifts and the books he read were too general to be helpful here.

Toyne had already given him a letter of introduction to a mestre Erel at the fisher’s guild, the man in charge of sales. Accepting anything else from them would be difficult for Defi.

But Toyne only nodded. “Winter is already at the door. You are living alone in that house, aren’t you? My dear wife won’t be at ease if you didn’t have enough for the season.”

“So far from town, too,” his wife Mery fretted. “If the road is cut off and the riverbank freezes over, you won’t be able to buy food or clothes.”

Defi let the Current wash over him for a moment, then could only smile gently at the couple. There was no malicious sense to the two’s actions. It appeared that they were only worrying about someone living by himself in a house so far from immediate assistance.

Ascharonian hospitality was so warm, he marveled.

Perhaps because their usual clime was colder than Ontrea?

He relented, not refusing anymore. In the face of such sincerity, common sense then said that the polite thing was to accept in order to avoid troubling the hosts. After all, politeness and mannerly behavior was invented so that people can interact peacefully.

How can things be peaceful if he didn’t accept here?

Not accepting freely-given sincerity would definitely leave both parties uncomfortable and would negatively impact future meetings.

Defi could only decide to take the path with the most logic. He would just send a bottle of wine to this household after he visited the fisher’s guild and acquired a spot for a steady sable crab supply. Thanking them after a venture they helped with was successful was an appropriate gifting opportunity, right?

He grimaced inwardly.

He had never been good at the subtleties of reciprocal gifting.

But the two before him at least were not plotting anything against him.

“Please be at ease, mestre, madame, I am well prepared for the winter. But if it is madame and mestre’s wish, then I can only accept. I am grateful for the consideration.”

“Oh, don’t be so polite, young man.” The madame smiled in appreciation just the same, then sighed wistfully. “Husband, you’ve never been so polite to me.”

“My wife,” Toyne turned a particular burning gaze toward the madame. “What meaning is in your words? I must be polite?”

Defi, arms full, stepped back. “Thank you again. I will be on my way.”

The master of the house nodded absently at him. “Blessings on you today.”

Defi returned the farewell and left the house quickly, pretending not to hear the giggling that the man started to coax from his wife.

Outside, he paused under the sheltered recess of the porch to adjust his scarf and put on his hat. The thick coat acquired in Echtys, embroidered with subtle patterns to hide the warming Emblems stitched onto it, was exceedingly welcome in these times.

It was the tail end of autumn and the skies had been moody about it.

The days recently were chilly and wet.

But the colors of Ascharon’s autumn were stunning, deep golds and reds painting the near mountains, cradling the town in a cacophony of earthy shades.

Beautifully vivid, was the Lowpool now.

Defi looked up at the roiling grey skies as he stepped out into the light drizzle, not a bit of blue seen through the clouds.

The world appeared to need turmoil to be able to produce such art on the face of the land.

As he walked through the town that seemed to be blooming in deeper and darker shades than spring, he felt the sudden itch in his fingers to paint Ascharon’s autumn.

He was no artist, certainly nothing like even the least of the painters that Ontrea had to offer, but he had learned something of the skill just the same.

It had been one way to get to know his sisters.

Defi tucked the sudden desire to paint away, knowing that his effort would only insult the scenery, feeling a faint sense of regret that his skills could only reach so high.

It didn’t matter that he was a mediocre painter, in any case. These days, the painting skills he’d learned in another world were poured into making Emblems, with great success.

He didn’t have to worry about food preservation again, now that he could reliably inscribe the preservation Emblems onto various types of container and packaging himself. In addition, Jast had finally allowed him to purchase No.2 glypher’s supplies last week.

The Emblems in the slime warehouse also alleviated his worry about preserving slime food for the winter. At the moment, all he had to do was stock up enough to last until spring.

It was a problem that he was dealing with slowly.

Because of the five barrel requirement, Defi now had fifteen slimes producing vinegar: five producing Jar’s heavy vinegar, five producing a less heavy version of Jasper’s vinegar, and five producing Malachite’s light vinegar. The production of those slimes had been paid already until spring, an advance payment.

Apart from the vinegar producing slimes, there were the three slimes producing Larimar’s lotion.

Defi didn’t increase the lotion production because Vesia wrote that further samples only needed to be sent in after winter because negotiations with a company named Telomberne were currently proceeding in a less than satisfactory direction.

Then there was Zavanas that produced savras extract, Moldavite that produced what he only recorded as zaziphos extract, and Flourspar that was split from Turquoise because of the hybrid Herbs.

The last two he could only feed with pure zaziphos.

Twenty-one slimes in all, excluding Turq, each needing ten kilogar of feed a day. In one month of 28 days, wouldn’t that be 5880 kilogar of feed all together?

The month of Snowfall, which was already the next month, was true to its name. Defi was told that the land was expected to be covered in snow for three months until the month of First Spring. Being closer to the cold north and with the place’s high elevation, the winter snow in the Lowpool was longer than the winter in the south but not as miserable as the blizzard-strewn hills of far northern Ascharon.

Three months of winter needed over 17 thousand kilogar of slime feed stored.

By weight, that was enough food to feed ten adult humans well for over two years.

Defi definitely wasn’t going to expand production beyond the current operation anytime soon. He wouldn’t be able to handle it alone, even with the easier feeding system in the slime warehouse.

If he had not the luck to pick much of the feed from Sarel’s orchard, he would have been eaten out of house and home. Even then, while zaziphos fruited in the winter, Sarel mentioned the taste was bitter.

Good for ale, but not for vinegar.

He could only use the rest of the autumn season to stock up on the sweeter zaziphos before the snow fell.

The starcherry seller he’d met two months ago had told everyone that he was paying for the fruit and the town’s children had been coming by the house to sell their pickings. Defi had to pay the dockworker Jerac to collect and pay the pickers at the docks, feeling guilty for making children walk the three hour road journey to the homestead from town.

It was still unexpectedly fortunate, and his storage of starcherry had already reached sufficient levels. He still needed a bit more zaziphos, and the savras sellers had already made their last trip to the Lowpool town this week – he wouldn’t see them again until spring.

That was fine. Even if the supply got cut off, he wasn’t selling savras extract yet. He had a few ideas for its use, but had to talk to Vesia and whoever was in charge of the collaboration project first.

The most immediate problem now needed to be solved.

The sable crab supply.

It was fine last month when he bought a single sable crab from the fisher’s guild to expand the heavy vinegar production line, but when he enquired about a steady supply, he was informed that such a regular purchase needed certain paperwork and a ready deposit.

Because sable crab was a mystic animal, the profit and supply needed to be documented properly and certain authorizations needed to be given.

Less complicatedly, Defi was able to acquire a regular purchase agreement for carp bones and crab shells at the fisher’s guild. The action was recommended by the elderly sisters Marte and Grenia since with the colder weather, they would not be able to easily work at the docks.

Too bad he had to pay for it now, when the old sisters used to give him the carp bones and crab shells for free.

He patted the chest of his coat, the introduction letter from Toyne folded carefully in an inner pocket, and headed for the fisher’s guild in the soft drizzle of rain-mist.