Aratoth, a fairly quiet provincial city overall on the eastern coast of Eremea. Named after the founder, Arais Toth, and an incredibly long line of sons and daughters with that esteemed family name have ruled for the somewhat over two centuries since that day of founding. From humble beginnings as a fishing village on thr coast of the Yaren Sea, growing and growing into the prominent point of sea trade and a fish marketing magnate that it was to the day.
They had grown well enough to the point they had found fertile land for good crops and pasture for Livestock on the western end of town. Every city needed some variety of food, Aratoth especially so that the good folk did not sicken of fish, fish and more fish despite the vast array of sea-stock at their disposal.
In this city of thousands, of humble and hard workers pushing every day for a good wage, we focus more on a single establishment. The World's Oyster - When booze and seafood go well hand in hand, when one knows what to pair, then you make a seafood bar. Crotchety old owner Caliben Barassus, worked his employees long hours, through hard shifts and ran a tight ship. He liked his kitchen spotless, dining room as well, and the food perfect.
It was in the same fashion that he ordered his Stand-In Captain to run his fishing vessel, The Yardarm. Swabbed, equipment in place and in order, and to never come back to shore without a solid haul for skinning, cleaning and serving to make himself more coin! For all of it, the old, seasoned salt paid well enough for the trouble he put both of his crews through for the sake of the perfection he strove for.
The World's Oyster was not exactly upscale, but neither was it some dive that looked like it should be some barnacle encrusted hole for drunkards to drown themselves in. It was a well-maintained, well-priced establishment that did fair business compared to other fish-serving eateries. It did better in some cases, with Captain Barassus being the ever knowledgeable sea-fairer that knew when and where to find delectable catches.
It was a humble business in a humble city, ran by a blue-collar crew, many working for their hourly wage before they would return home, to their moderately modest livings earned through sweat from their brows and the work of their hands.
In the kitchen of the World's Oyster, one of their cooks of a handful of three years worked diligently with the raw fish - Cudaren, Red Roller, Sambish and the like that could be prepared and eaten raw without harm. Young Mister, Lucarth Two-Cloud, going threw his motions on a regular day of business where customers steadily streamed into their restaurant. The heat of the fires under iron cooking slabs at his back, the clatter of knives on cutting boards in his ears, the higher up chefs were barking orders and making sure everything was going smoothly - A normal day.
(Roll a Performance check, D.rex. Let's see how well you're doing in the kitchen today.)
One would have been hard pressed to have lived in this town without having worked with fish at least once in their life. Lucarth was no exception. Admittedly it was not glorious work, but it was a honest wage, and plenty of jobs out there that were worse.
At this point, handling fish was about as natural as it could. He had his various knives and implements laid out beside him, each one of different size and shape. Each with its own specific purpose. Each one well taken care of.
In his hand now was a filled knife, in which he has now deboning and slicing up an already gutted Red Roller. Keeping up with various orders relayed to him while trying to cut the fish to the cooks specifications.
Ignore second roll if "Harvest the water" background feat does not apply.
Time spent at sea on the Yardarm taught him the lifestyle. It was often that on the rocking waves that caused the Yardarm to list and sway, workers were still diligently de-scaling, skinning, de-boning where they could to lessen work for the kitchen. It was working conditions like that that had taught Lucarth how to handle a knife, and on steady ground? Why, Sebastian, the notoriously rougher of the two higher-up chefs could have been spitting profanities and smashing metal pots next to Lucarth's ear and the young man would have been fine.
Every filet, every strip, every roll - Prepped, plated and served with perfection.
Sebastian even congratulated the young man with a clap on the back as he passed during rounds, "Damn fine job!" Words of praise with a smile!? Was a layer of the Hells freezing over?
Lucarth's shift ended only a couple hours later, the lunch crowd have sufficiently died down enough for the crew to start cleaning for night crew to meander in. He and his fellow cooks could share in drinks and cheers before the shift change, sharing a few congrats and job-well-done's for another day done.
Tobias, a sturdier built dwarf that worked one of their slabs preparing the cook portions of fish and scallops and the like, tipped his tankard back in true Dwarven fashion and drained it Ecery time, and it never failed to illicit a few applause and some laughs.
"Aahh~" He sighed, "Oi, Luca, good job there showin' up e'ry otha bloke 'ere!" He laughed, raising his empty tankard to their newest kitchen hand with a grin on his thickly-bearded face.
"Kept ol' Seb off our tails, even!" Dremor, an Elven man with long red locks held back by a bandana and built a bit stronger than most of his lithe kin, raised his water to that as well.
This turned into a much better day than he had expected. His cuts were keen and he had really gotten into the flow. It was kind of funny how you sometimes had days like this. It made the whole job worth it.
So once his knives were clean, he was more than happy to toast to a good days work with peers.
"It was just beginners luck, mate." He said with modestly smug grin, and he too lifted his stout drink to meet vessels if the others. He pulled it back to his lips and did his best impression of a dwarf in trying to drain the whole thing. Didn't quite make it.
Pulling back with a cough, he patted his chest,"Tobi, Drem. Another day, another few coins in the pocket. I better not be showing you all up tomorrow or ill be thinking that yall are slipping. And I can't afford a raise because you'd be expecting me to buy all the drinks." He said in lighthearted jest.